I woke up at 5.30 and after an hour of trying to get back to sleep, I decided to go for an early run.
I don’t remember being out in this city just after dawn this time of year before – there was an autumnal mist hovering on the water by the canals and later, hanging over the field at the back of the Westerpark. I wished I’d done like Before I sleep, and taken my camera. Instead, I’ll show you a photo of Amsterdam at night.
Judging by the number of people settled in the park, Amsterdam has more of a homelessness problem than it cares to admit to, but the pair I saw might in sleeping bags have been penniless backpackers.
Today I took my shoes off and ran the last 500 metres home, about twice as far as last time. It’s quite an experience to feel the different road surfaces with my feet: some tarmac was rough and scratchy, in other places it felt soft and smooth; concrete bricks are unpleasant to run on, but Amsterdam red brick is gorgeous.
I felt like I was running slower than before, but my heart was about 10 beats higher, and my heels felt like they were absorbing a lot of force.
Just in that short distance, my feet became incredibly blackened. On the plus side, it was good to be able to step inside my flat and know I wasn’t leaving dogshit on the carpet.