A Few Beautiful Days in Paris

"Endurance is the never ending pursuit of seeing what your body is willing to give you."

Pre-Race Expo

Just three weeks after finishing the Southern States 100, I completed the Paris Marathon. Was I fully recovered from my 100 mile race? No. Was I excited to see what my body was willing to give me for this race? Yes.

Paris, New Years, 2009

Last fall a few of my friends discussed going to Paris for the marathon. Excited about the prospect, I went home and asked Amy ... and in turn she texted my friends and said I'm coming to Paris with you. They responded with "Is Scot coming too?"

New Years 2009

Amy and I first went to Paris with her sister Laura over New Years 2008-2009 where we watched the Eiffel Tower turn blue at midnight. This was in our pre-kid era where we were traveling on a shoe-string budget and staying at hostels. It's funny how 18 years ago seems like such a blur at this point, but seeing some of the same sights again (Montmartre in particular) made us feel like we were there yesterday.

Day 1 - Sleep is for the Weak

Amy's parents flew into town a few days before we left for the trip to stay with the kids. Amy, Meg, Lisa, Gwen, and I left Boston on a red eye flight and landed in Paris around 7am. Having done a number of long flights in the last few years, Amy, Gwen, and I felt pretty well conditioned to handle day 1 on next to no sleep, but Lisa and Meg needed a power nap after we arrived.

After checking into our hotel and knocking off a quick run, we wandered down to the Louvre and took in some of the sites. They say Paris is the most beautiful city in the world and it really doesn't take very long to see why. From the museums to a cafe on every corner, there is always something to see ... and often dating back hundreds of years.

We closed the day out with a simple dinner of baguette, cheese, wine and chocolate (and 11 hours of sleep).

Day 2 - A Shakeout Run, The Expo and Montmartre

On our second day, Eve came to find us and it began with a shakeout run, that we dubbed, "Gwen's Paris Running Tours" where we ran down Champs-Élysées, past Les Invalides (The Military Museum / Tomb of Napoleon), and over to the Eiffel Tower.

Gwen, who has lived in Paris and speaks fluent French, was our tour guide for the week. While almost all people that we met spoke English to some degree, it was extremely helpful (and pleasant) to have someone that spoke the native tongue.

After the run, and some pastries and cappuccino (a reoccurring theme throughout the trip), we headed over the race expo to pick up our bibs (and do some light shopping).

In general, I am not one for large races. My idea of a good time is to head off into the woods and maybe see a person every couple of miles or so. The two biggest races I have done in the past are the Boston Marathon, at roughly 33k people and the Marine Corps Marathon with about 25k. Paris was set to have nearly 60k.

After many goofy photos at the expo (really they must have had 3 separate mini Arc de Triomphe), we headed out and then worked our way up to Montmartre for the evening.

Montmartre is a bohemian hilltop district (with an incredible view of the city), celebrated for its "village" charm, winding cobblestone streets, and profound artistic history. Meg, our resident artist, was completely in her element and the rest of us watched from a distance as she took it in.

After a visit to the Sacré-Cœur Basilica, we found a restaurant where we could sit outdoors and relax with a glass of wine (or 3). Post dinner we wandered over to Moulin Rouge before taking the train back and calling it a night.

Day 3 - Notre Dame, d'Orsay, and Night Out

One of the biggest issues with international travel is the time change. When you fly red eye, you basically get the first night for free as you are "that tired." The second night is where it gets real.

After trying to go to bed at 10pm, I gave up around 11:30 and read my book for two hours. Finally around 2am, I was able to get to sleep. Shortly after 8, I got up, did my final shakeout run, had a couple of cappuccinos, and was ready for the day.

Amy I took the train over the Notre Dame and went in search of a crêperie and landed at La Charrette à Crêpes where we split a mushroom / egg and Nutella / strawberry crepes. They were so good and even wrote them a 5 star review.

Last time we were in Paris, Notre Dame was closed, so it was nice to get inside on this trip. It really is a sight to behold and is so rich with history. At one point, I stuck my head in a side room that commemorated a woman from 250 AD, with a statue from 1638, and a painting from 1835.

Following Notre Dame, we walked over to the d'Orsay where they had a special Renoir exhibit. Amy and I had visited d'Orsay back on our trip in 2008 and it was a lot of fun. It is so cool to see the paintings in person from Monet, Renoir, and van Gogh (among others).

A few hours later, Amy and I sat down to take a break in front of an exhibit known as the "Gates of Hell" by Auguste Rodin. Reading about it, I learned that, like many artists, he never believed his piece was finished having worked on it for over 10 years. The piece became much more famous after his passing. I asked Meg if all artists were tortured and she simply replied with "yes."

We ended the day with a dinner out at an Italian restaurant named Chez Angelo followed by a (somewhat) early bed time (I think I fell asleep by midnight).

Day 4 - Marathon de Paris

The Start

It was finally go time ... or at least I thought. After a quick breakfast and finding the group, we headed over to start. Four of us were in wave 2 (3:30) while Eve was in a later wave. We were supposed to start at 8:40, but they didn't even let us into the corral until then. They did mini waves of about 30 folks spread out every 2 minutes. Finally, an hour later, we got underway.

As I mentioned above, I had absolutely no idea what my body would be willing to give me. The last road marathon I ran was Newport in October of 2024 and I was still pretty banged up from Tahoe.

My goal was to start on the easier side (but not too easy), and if I felt good, push in the second half to get under 3:15, my Boston Qualifying (BQ) time.

Seeing Amy at Bastille

I started out in the upper 7:20s and tried to take in the scenery. The event was cup-less, which meant I had to carry a re-usable with me. Surprisingly the first water stop wasn't until the 10k mark, but with a temperature in the mid 40s, it really didn't bother me.

The first 10k of a marathon are always awkward. I tell the athletes I coach to always take it easy, but you also want to be careful that you don't put yourself into too much debt. I didn't feel bad, but at the same time, I didn't feel good.

Miles 7 to 13, I felt like finally found a groove and picked it up after so slightly. At mile 14, something happened to me that has never happened in a marathon before; I entered the flow state. I've run something like 25 marathons and at no point did it ever feel effortless before.

By mile 17, I was running just over 7 minutes per mile and a local Parisian looked at me and said you are flying (after I asked him to repeat it in English). Miles 14-21 were probably the best I have ever felt in a marathon.

As with any marathon, I knew the pain cave was inevitably coming. Mile 21 and 22, I started to hurt, but was still able to hold 7:07s. As with other major races, my name was on my bib and I just loved how the French pronounced it; with such a heavy emphasis on the t. "Go ScoT!

Miles 23 through 25 were a bit of a bear. I pressed, but slowed a bit (about 10 seconds per mile) and my heart rate climbed into the 170s. It was mantra time (internal monologue time).

"I doubt anyone else here ran a 100 miler 3 weeks ago."
"Don't let the hard miles win."
"I believe."

When I reached 40k, with roughly 1.2 miles to go, something clicked. It was time to drop the hammer. As the roads narrowed and crowds grew, my focus narrowed, I jumped from one side of the street to the other and pushed through any gap I could find. The pain was no longer relevant. I was about to go beneath my BQ time for the first time in 7 years.

Post Race

As I made the final turn onto Avenue Foch, with the Arc in sight, I gave it my all, reaching the finish in 3:13:15, stopped my watch, and took a deep breath.

Was it a PR? No. Was I proud of my time? Absolutely. Coming off a race that nearly killed me (and my friends) three weeks ago, I was excited to see what my body allowed me to do. Is this the first step to finding my elusive speed? I hope so.

Shortly thereafter, my friends finished as well. First Meg, then Gwen, Lisa, and finally Eve ... all with great times and another whopping PR for Eve (12 minutes this time and under 4 hours for the first time).

A couple of hours later we headed over to the Eiffel Tour with our medals in hand. From over a 1000' above Paris, you really do get to see why it is called the most beautiful city in the world.

Top of Paris

Back to Reality

After a few bottles of champagne, a bit more food, some more wine, some macaroons, and some cheese we called it a night. After three trains and a plane, we made it back home. A whirl wind trip, a great race, and a celebration to remember.

- Scot