Yesterday was the running of the Tirana Marathon. I decided the day before to run the vrapimi masiv – the 2K massive run at the start of the event, before the marathoners went on to do the other 40K. This was an only arguably stupid decision, since while I hadn’t run in about three months, a mile and some wasn’t going to kill me, even if my shoes had no support left in them.
Some of the intrepid contestants
The poster for the marathon advertised the date of the run, but neither the time nor the place, so we had to make some inquiries there. The route was also changed last minute: the massive run shrank from 4.2K to 2 K because the organizers didn’t get permission to close the boulevard for its full length. The rest of the course was through the park, a six-lap circuit (or seven, or five – few of the runners actually knew), but it wasn’t clear who was responsible for keeping count … we were joking that Rosie Ruiz would have felt right at home.
I’m working on my portfolio for a course I’ll be taking in January. This entails a lot of printing and reprinting digital files, which can get tedious, but it’s good to actually have a collection of photos in hand, to put some of them in some order, and to finally decide which ones are actually good versus good enough. I’ll also make some prints in the darkroom. There hasn’t been much USAID or GTZ work, but that’s good insofar as the majority of projects they have for me involves conferences or press events in hotels rather than actual field visits to working projects, and I’ve done enough conferences to know that while it’s work I can do well, it’s not work I particularly enjoy. (As I’m going to be reminded this Wednesday at the Sheraton.)
We were in London and Sussex recently, visiting a friend from college. We spent lots of time on her farm, taking care of horses, seeing the countryside (including Charleston, the Bloomsbury house), and enjoying the pubs. We also saw the start of a foxhunt, which seems to be as much about drinking on horseback as it is chasing foxes. The only good thing about it is that, more often than not, the fox wins, but otherwise it seems about as sporting as sending a bunch of half-blind rugby players out to chase down a six-year-old. More on that later. Still, it’s nice to be in England.