A Race in Spain

I made a goal before I left the States that I would run a race in each country that I visit. I satisfied a third of that goal with a race in Barcelona recently. And not only did I satisfy the goal, I topped it with a 2nd place woman overall finish. I won a trophy which, not to sound ungrateful but frankly I wish I hadn’t received, as it will add to the weight of my suitcase. I also won a bottle of “Cava” – Spanish Champaign – but I know that friends will help me so that I don’t have to carry it home. I can’t say that I’ve ever won something from a race that would allow me to toast the victory.

But, the winnings were only a fraction of the excitement! Just getting to the race site was an adventure. Luckily, Núria supplied me with maps, but I think both she and Joan were a little worried I might end up lost in Barcelona and not make it to work the next day. I will explain. I woke at 5:45am that Sunday morning to catch a 6:45am train. I wanted to give myself plenty of time to get to my 12:00pm race. An hour and a half train ride later, I was in Barcelona. I navigated my way to a bus stop and caught the bus Núria told me to take. This bus, however, would only take me so far, and she told me to ask the bus driver to notify me when we’d arrived at a certain plaza. I did just that, but he didn’t know the plaza. Luckily, another passenger did, and I got off in the right place. The race, however, was not in Barcelona exactly; it was in the mountains that surround the city. So, from there, I hoofed it through the suburbs and up the mountains to Parque Collserola. As I was hiking my way up, there was a man grazing his sheep in the shrub brush. I wasn’t exactly sure how he gotten the sheep there, so I found the situation a bit humorous. Up, up and more up, I finally made it to the park an hour and 15 minutes after I’d left the train station. It was still only 9:30 when I arrived though, so I had two and a half hours to kill before the race. But, I found a way to occupy my time. Park Collserola is a popular park for hikers and mountain bikers. I decided to follow a hiker up a trail. I figured that on the other side of the mountain there would be views of the city below, and in fact, there were! Magnificent views in fact! Luckily I had my camera.

After some walking, I made my way back down to prepare for the race. The lady in charge had noticed me when I arrived, and when I returned to the starting area, she decided to check in with me to make sure I didn’t have any questions. She told me something, I said “gracias,” and she immediately followed with “Oh, you speak English.” And then she started speaking to me in English, which she spoke very well. I don’t know how she was able to assume my language from my “gracias,” but somehow, I gave myself away.

And now for the race… It was awesome – a true cross-country course! There was some unsteady, rocky footing where the trails had eroded from bikers, but it was still a great course! It started and finished with downhills, but in the middle of the 8K, there were about 2500 meters of climbing. It was tough, and my quadriceps felt the aftermath a few days later, but I managed to pass a lot of people in that section. When we came down off the mountain, we were near the starting line, so there were fans there to cheer for us. Many were surprised to see the “chica,” and the lady in charge chanted “Fuerte! Fuerte! Great job!” So, all in all, it was tough, but it was fun, and I got my race in.

I was lucky that the race was sponsored by a golf and tennis club, which was nearby, because I had a place to shower afterward. Then, I hiked my way back down the mountain and happened upon a different bus route that took me directly to the city center. I took advantage of my day in the city by touring Casa Batlló, another of Gaudí’s architectural masterpieces, built 100 years ago and recently restored. Casa Batlló is, in a word, fantastical, with tile work that resembles candy on a gingerbread house and a rooftop that resembles the back of a dragon. It is rumored that perhaps that is exactly what Gaudí intended for the roof, as St. George – who is famed for killing a dragon – is the patron saint of Barcelona. And inside, the marvels continue, as Gaudí upheld his natural theme with staircases that resemble the backbone and arches the ribcage of a sea creature, a mushroom fireplace, a ceiling which swirls like the ocean, and columns that bear semblance to bones. The typical central patio was also prudently-designed with darker tile at the top of the building, fading to lighter shades at the bottom so that sufficient light is sensed throughout the building. The rooftop is also breathtaking, with beautifully-tiled though oddly-shaped chimneys. The first floor and rooftop are the only levels of Casa Batlló that are open to the public, as the other levels are private dwellings. I can’t help but think what luck the people have to live in such a spectacular building!

That evening, I wandered the streets of the city center and Barrio Gotic, festively illuminated for the holidays. And yes, there was a sense of holiday magic in the chilly air.

Before catching the last train back to Reus, I went to mass at the church of Santa Maria del Mar, which offered a service in Spanish! I was very excited to be able to understand what was said – having only attended Catalan masses since I arrived – and took the opportunity to meditate on the season and my blessings. Every aspect of my day was richly fulfilling.

And both Joan and Núria were glad to see me at work the next day, no worse for wear after my adventurous day.

To see pictures, go to my Shutterfly website, and view the Barcelona 2 folder.