For someone who is completely devoid of patience, I took great pride in how incredibly patient I was on my way to Scotland. While to this point I have been able to enjoy my favorite accents: Irish and English; I just could not wait to cross the border and soak in my first hit of a deep Scottish burr. I was patient on the train all the way from York. Then I was patient in the Glasgow train station as the buzz of people and movement around me made it difficult to isolate the sound I was waiting for. Just as my patience was waning, I stepped into the back of a black cab where the driver inquired after my destination in an amazingly, decadently, thick Scottish accent. I wanted to squeal in delight, and pretend like I did not hear him so he would repeat the question. Instead, I reigned it in and said with a smile (that was definitely too large and maniacal) the address of my hotel. The driver, sensing my overwhelming excitement from the back seat, smiled at me in the review mirror…and fixed my pronunciation of the street.
Seizing the opportunity the driver in no way was offering, I then proceeded to go through a list of Scottish locales and words with him to improve my pronunciation. Thankfully he indulged me, smiling kindly at me in the rearview mirror the entire trip. He also offered up some suggestions on places to visit. Already I was in love with Scotland.
I chose Glasgow as my first Scot stop because I had signed up for The Great Scottish Half Marathon (more on that in a bit). Other than being the race headquarters, I really did not know much about the city and was pleasantly suprised. The city is an eclectic mix of Victorian architecture, incredible street art, and a lively music scene. I was impressed by the street art found in Bristol, but, in my opinion, Glasgow takes the prize. Incredible works of art dominated the sides of buildings and drew viewers on the street into the piece. Glancing down an alley or turning a corner, you never knew what world you might discover.
Since I was staying near Glasgow University, I made it my first tour stop (my new BFF cab driver also suggested it). The university is perched above the city on a hill and provides stunning views. I approached from the side with stairs leading up to campus. A few students were walking a head of me, so I blindly followed. There is nothing worse than an innocent looking case of stairs that once you start climbing begins to slowly kick your ass. I like to consider myself a pretty active person (half-marathon runner and all) and I had been hiking all over Ireland and the UK for a couple of months now. For these reasons, I possess an inordinate amount of fitness pride that refuses to let me huff and puff around others. The students climbing ahead of me were not huffing so, dammit, neither was I. Of course, by the time I got to the top, my huff-puff restraint almost caused me to pass out due to lack of oxygen. Conscious or not, no one will hear a wheeze from me and my fitness pride will live on.
Once my breathing and oxygen levels returned to normal, I looked at my surroundings and realized I had freakin found Hogwarts! The university was established in 1451 and is an amazing combination of stone arches and wooden doors and turrets! A university with turrets?!? You’ve got to be kidding me! Over a few of the doorways, study topics like, “Geography,” were painted in an old-fashioned font. I completely expected to see “Defense Against the Dark Arts” over a door at any moment. The cloisters serve as the perfect backdrop for a wand battle with its columns and vaulted ceilings. Honestly, the university is gorgeous and a must-see in Glasgow.
For some Scottish Gothic architecture, I headed to Glasgow Cathedral and Necropolis. The medieval 13th century church was built on the site of St. Mungo’s chapel (the city’s patron saint) and his tomb can be found in the lower crypt of the cathedral. The cathedral is hauntingly beautiful, filled with vaulted ceilings, gorgeous stained glass, and a rich history. In the back of the cathedral is an original 15th century door leading into a small room. The sign next to it encourages you to find the bullet holes from more harrowing times. I guess that is one way to put it.
Next to the Glasgow Cathedral is the Necropolis. The Necropolis is a Victorian cemetery with winding pathways up a hill filled with monuments to Glasgow’s wealthiest families. Described as, “literally a city of the dead,” more than 3,500 elaborately carved monuments fill the skyline. It is an incredibly impressive display of wealth for those families buried there. The thought and detail put into the monuments is evident. Necropolis is a pretty interesting place to get lost in.
The rest of my time in Glasgow was spent window shopping (which there is plenty of), listening to street performers (who all sounded amazingly good…like recording contract good), and of course people watching (always an interesting past time). The day before I left Glasgow was race day. The Great Scottish Run is billed as Scotland’s biggest running event (22,000 participated in the 10k and half marathon).
Since heat is not an issue in Scotland, the weather allowed for a start time of 11.30 am. It was incredibly weird to be starting a half marathon around noon, but as a non-morning person, I loved it! Any time I can avoid a 5 am wake-up call for a race, I am 100% on-board. Strangely a few people along the route overheated. Guess my internal Texas thermometer helped because it felt like a cool Fall day to me.
I walked from my hotel to the race and made it to my corral about 30 minutes before the start. I proceeded to get in line for every runner’s fan favorite: the port-a-potties. As is the norm on race day, the line was long but as I was waiting, I noticed next to the port-a-potties were these dome-shaped plastic structures with four deep indents around the structure. I saw a man approach the done from the opposite side and immediately thought, “Wow! This is serious hand washing station.” You always know an event is at a high level when they include the hand washing station outside the port-a-pottties. Fortunately for me, I continued to pay attention to the “amazing sanitation stations” because I was incredibly mistaken. As the port-a-potty line continued, another man approached the “dome”, reached into the front of his shorts, and urinated in the sanitation station! I began whipping my head around to see if anyone was seeing what I was seeing and shocked that no one was sharing my horror at the defacement of our cleanliness means. Slowly it began to dawn on me… this was not a hand-washing station. It was an outdoor urinal where male runners could walk-up and just whip-it-out.
Now public urination is nothing new at race events. I personally have utilized a heavily wooded area before a race. The “dome” was very new to me, and following my overwhelming relief that I did not approach the dome to wash my hands, I began to wonder. why the hell was this line still so long?!?! If guys could just use the “whip it out” drive thru, I would not still be in this damn line!
Overall, the Glasgow Half Marathon was not one of my Top 10 races. Aesthetically, it was a great route. At mile markers, you could find the occasional bag-piper but entertainment was limited. Once you finished the race, you were directed to an area to pick up a bag with your t-shirt, medal, and other items. No fancy presentation of your medal to acknowledge the achievement. More importantly, no beer coupon. It was just ho-hum. That being said, I did do pretty well time-wise, considering I had not really trained. I guess this is where hiking came in handy (plus, I can freely huff and puff while running).
Glasgow is a great city with a lot to offer, but is more on the urban side. I am looking forward to going rural next in the Highlands!
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