The forecast for Monday, Sept. 16, didn’t look good.1 My schedule on Tuesday, Sept. 17, was booked solid. It seemed like my guided run through Prague wasn’t going to happen.
Unless …
Would you be willing to reschedule for Tuesday morning, I asked my guide, Radim. I mean, really, really early? Early enough for me to make it to my first meeting on time?
I wasn’t sure this was something Radim wanted — I love running first thing in the morning, but lots of people don’t. I wasn’t even sure this was what I wanted because I was still adjusting to the time change, so waking up at 5:30 a.m. would be more torturous than usual.
Radim said sure.
Mother Nature, my Outlook calendar, and jet lag had conspired against me. I didn’t let them win. And, as a reward, the city of Prague treated me to an experience so memorable that I’d tempt fate a few days later to repeat it.
Run 1: Tuesday
Pre-Morning Has Broken
Radim and I met shortly before 6 a.m. outside my hotel and headed for Old Town Square. It felt like we were the only two people awake in Prague. Even the ghosts and golems were asleep.
Prague’s personality changes in the wee hours. The city feels unselfconscious and unaffected, like a host taking a sigh of relief after the last party guest gets the hint and leaves.
Radim and I had the city all to ourselves. Old Town Square and other landmarks were well-lit, but the smaller roads we weaved through were dim. I ran very carefully, trying to enjoy the city while being mindful of the cobblestones. One bad trip could take out my knee or ankle, prematurely ending my professional football career.
Radim was an excellent guide — he let me set the pace and adjusted the route on the fly so we’d skip some places I had already seen. If you’re headed to the Heart of Europe, contact him at Running Tours Prague and set something up. You won’t regret it. Tell him Dave says hi.2
Radim timed the run so we’d arrive at the Charles Bridge just as the sun began to rise.
On the Up and Up
On the other side of the Vltava, Prague Castle was beginning to glow. Radim said we’d go there next. We rounded a few corners and arrived at the historic Prague Castle Escalator, the engineering marvel built in 1347 so people attending Charles IV’s coronation as King of Bavaria wouldn’t have to schlep up the 820-foot (250-meter) hill.
Kidding.
We got to historic Prague Castle Steps, built by sadists as a form of medieval torture because the StairMaster wouldn’t be invented until 1983.3
I walked up. I didn’t run. I’m not some Czech Rocky. When we reached the top, the sky was transitioning from sunrise gold to baby blue. The clouds cycled through several hues of pink, gold, and gray.
At this point, people usually say something like, “The view from the top was worth it.” But, c’mon, the view from the top would have been just as awesome if I had been chauffeured up the hill.
That doesn’t mean it wasn’t good, though.
Down to the River to Play
What walks up must run down … because, you know, gravity. We passed the Franz Kafka Museum on the way to the riverbank.
The Vltava, surging and swollen, was waiting for us at the bottom of the hill. Radim said the river was several meters over its usual height, and the city had closed some embankments in anticipation of flooding. Boat traffic had been banned because the water was moving too fast.
Radim and I checked our watches and decided to return to my hotel. We crossed the Mánes Bridge and ran through a different part of the old town than we had that morning.
The route let us avoid Old Town Square. I was grateful for that. If we had gone, we’d see the first flocks of tourists. They’d be posing for selfies in front of the Astronomical Clock and lining up at Starbucks.
Which is fine.4
But, just a few hours earlier, that square belonged to no one but Radim, me, and the night. I wasn’t ready to share it with anyone else just yet. It was an ephemeral moment worth saving, and savoring, for as long as possible.
Run 2: Friday
I was determined to do another sunrise run before leaving Prague. But there was a problem. The only time I could do it was Friday morning. And that was the day I was leaving. Coming back late wouldn’t mean missing a meeting — it would mean missing my flight.
I did some calculations, accounting for my average pace, the distance to the Charles Bridge, when sunrise would be, wind speeds, the Coriolis force, and how long Mercury had been in retrograde.
After poring over the numbers, I remember how much I hate math and said, fuck it, I’m gonna do it.
I’m glad I did.
Did I miss my flight? Nope. I showered, changed, checked out, and shared an Uber ride to the airport with a coworker. And, despite a slow line to check in my bag, and a longer line through security, I had enough time to enjoy one last taste of Prague — a mug of real Budweiser!5
You can find the original Budweiser outside the Czech Republic. And you can see a sunrise anywhere. But, as I learned, these things seem a little more golden when you experience them in Prague.
By the Numbers
Tuesday
- Distance: 4.2 miles (6.8 km)
- Elevation gain: 860 feet (262 meters)
- Temperature: 55°F (13°C)
- Number of meetings missed: Zero
Friday
- Distance: 2.4 miles (3.9 km)
- Elevation gain: 46 feet (14 meters) — no stairs this time!
- Temperature: 48°F (9°C)
- Number of flights missed: Zero
Footnotes
- Central Europe was experiencing torrential rains and deadly flooding. In meteorological terms, this is called a “shitshow.” Prague was not as hard hit as many other places. ↩︎
- When Radim and I first discussed the weather forecast for Monday, I told him I’d like to keep the original day and time because of my meetings the following day. He said OK, told me we’d have fun no matter what, and offered to lend me his rain jacket. He’s a good sport and a great guy. I’m sure he was glad I decided to reschedule, even though it meant waking up earlier. And I’m happy I didn’t need to borrow his jacket — I’m a few sizes larger than he is! ↩︎
- To the best of my knowledge, the inventor has not been tried in The Hague for crimes against humanity. Yet. ↩︎
- I did some clock selfies on Monday, but it’s OK because I’m a very demure, very mindful tourist and should not be judged like everyone else. ↩︎
- Not to be confused with the American stuff. The fight over naming rights has been going on for about 120 years. The fight over which beer is best was won long, long ago — it has always been the Czech one. ↩︎