A Memorable Run in Granada

When we took our trip to Europe in 2018, I would blog about running in Croatia because I was the only person in our family experiencing running in a foreign country.  Now, I’m fortunate because I have Olivia to be my running buddy.  

Since we arrived in Granada, we’ve explored many of the area’s amazing trails.  We know there are so many more trails to discover and run.  Running has allowed us to explore and navigate the city without GPS and create a map within our minds.  Occasionally I get turned around and I have to pull out the phone, but more often than not, we just “figure it out”.  Before Olivia went back to school, we had a lot of time to kill, so if a run that was supposed to take 1 hour, took 2 because we were lost, it wasn’t that big of a deal.  

The hardest, but also the greatest, part about running in Granada are the hills.  We live on a giant hill and we feel like we are either going up or going down the hill.  When one of us complains about the hill (while running up it), we motivate each other by saying “just think how strong you are getting.”  To be honest, Olivia flies up most hills and waits for me at the top.  If I start walking, she encourages me to keep going.  

We have found some incredible trails and I feel fortunate, but I always know there is more to explore.  I have spoken to several expats who have lived here for many years and their advice is basically to “keep running and be okay with getting lost.”  

There is a church that has an amazing sunset view called San Miguel Alto.  You have to climb up, up, up to get there.  An expat told me that there are trails behind the church that aren’t steep.  Olivia and I went to investigate a few weeks ago and got frustrated because they didn’t seem like actual trails, more tiny single track rocky paths that no human should try to run on. 

Fast forward a few more weeks and another expat told me the same thing.  He took it a step further and said that the paths lead to a tiny town and you can go, eat at a restaurant and come back in a single day.  I had to find these “trails” that everyone keeps telling me about.

One night last week, Olivia and I decided to go up to the trails one hour before sunset.  Our plan was to walk to the top of the hill and explore.  I had no intention of finding the small town that night, but I wanted to see this long trail I’d been hearing about.

Right away, we found ourselves at a lesser known lookout point of the Alhambra.  The view was incredible and there wasn’t a big crowd there, like at the church.   The Alhambra was beautiful, quiet and peaceful and, of course, I took a picture.  

We continued past the lookout.  I started to get frustrated because the trails would tease us.  They would be wide, runnable and then quickly turn to a rocky, single track path clinging to the edge of a cliff.  Recently someone called them “goat trails” and I think that is exactly what they are even though I haven’t seen a goat up there yet.  We kept going, occasionally seeing a cave house here and there (we would avoid running down those paths, because it would feel as though we were running through their front yards.)   At one point we looked down to see that we were above the huge white wall that was created in the Sacromente area to help keep the cave houses secure.  When we turned the corner, we found ourselves lined up with the Abadia del Sacromente (the Abbey).  I was told there is a path from the back of the San Miguel Alto church to the Abbey, but we couldn’t see the path from where we were and I didn’t want to try, with the possibility we would get lost as the sun was already setting.  

At that point we decided to turn around and we found a different trail/path back towards the church.  We started heading slightly downhill when I felt a sharp pain in my heel.  I immediately knew that I stepped on something (first thought was a nail) and I knew that I couldn’t put my heel down.  I sat down on this very small, single track trail, with Olivia hovering over me to see a very large piece of glass sticking out from the heel of my shoe.  It was a broken beer bottle and it was wedged very deeply in my shoe.  I didn’t see the broken beer bottle because I was going downhill and I don’t look directly down when trail running, generally speaking I look a little bit ahead of my feet. I must have landed perfectly on the bottle for it to be wedged in my shoe like it was.   I regret not taking a picture, but as you can imagine I was very distracted at the time.  

I had no choice, I pried the piece of glass out of my shoe, cutting my thumb in the process.  My thumb immediately started bleeding as I pulled my shoe and sock off to discover that the glass had reached my heel and drawn blood.  I looked up at Olivia to see her eyes wide with shock.  Her expression was how I felt inside.  But I knew that I needed to get off the hill and home to stop the bleeding.

As I put my shoe back on and started down the path, I was surprised that my heel didn’t feel as bad as I thought it would.  At that point I wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline running through my body, or maybe the glass didn’t pierce as deeply as I thought.  My only thought was “how can I get home quickly?”.  I was wearing my favorite (and one of my only) running shirts and my thumb wouldn’t stop bleeding.  I had no choice, but to use my shirt to stop the bleeding.  

We picked up the pace, selecting trails that went down, trying to get back to Camino Del Sacromonte, the main road and a spot from which we knew the way.  

Suddenly, we found ourselves in the middle of a gypsy cave house encampment.  The caves were created along this ravine, with a very small narrow path running between the houses.  Immediately, the dogs behind the fences started barking at us.  I felt like they were saying “an intruder, an intruder”.  There were other dogs, unleashed, running towards us and it felt like we were intruders, running through people’s front yards.  I suddenly was very afraid and I didn’t know how to get out of the encampment, without going back up the hill.  I told Olivia to think about how to say “we are lost” in Spanish, in case someone asks what we are doing in their community.  

We suddenly saw two people standing in the path, talking with each other.  Olivia very bravely told them we were lost and asked how to get back to the main road.  At least, that’s what I assume she asked, since it was all in Spanish.  The man responded, with kindness in his eyes, pointing down a very small narrow path winding through the ravine.  In order to get down the path, I had to slide down on my butt because it was so rocky and steep.  However, within minutes we were back on the main road of Sacromente and on our way home.

When I got home, I cleaned up my thumb and heel.  I was surprised that my heel wasn’t bleeding as much as before, the glass must have only lightly pierced my skin.  Most importantly, I was able to run the next day.  Even though that night I was very shaken up, reflecting back, I’m glad we had that experience.  I haven’t been back up on those trails yet, but I hope to go back soon.