Christmas "Rave Run"

I have realized that there are very few traditions I honour during the holidays. Indeed I have discovered, this year in particular, that I am not one to celebrate the holidays in any one "traditional" way each year, for the most part. Maybe that is a default because my life always seems to be in a constant transition ever since I got married. Whatever the reason, it turns out that it suits me quite well. Except, there is one consistent, proper "tradition" I have maintained since I was 15 years old and that is a good Christmas morning run. It has changed over the years quite a bit.

It started out as a 6am run from the H.S. with all my nerdy-great cross country pals of yore. 

Over the years and after graduating, it became more of a family affair when my brothers and my ever impressive runner-of-a-mum always were up for the event each year. We even extended the tradition into a Thanksgiving thing as well. Sometimes it meant a race and other times just a good adventure through the snowy Wasatch Front.

Now that I spend as many Christmases away from the original grounds of my tradition, I often find myself keeping the event alive without the help of anyone else. *Which I suppose this is the sign of a good tradition as it shows that it is continuing out of enjoyment rather than obligation, as so many things end up being in the end around this time of year.* That said, I think I found my Christmas "Rave Run" this year. I have been working out the shortcuts, prettiest route, not-too-many-pedestrians-to-dodge loop here in the city. Perhaps it was a "Christmas miracle", as they say, that it got sorted in time for my holiday am run. At any rate, it is truly worthy of a "rave run" if there ever was an urban one of those.

It starts as I cross from Shandwick to Princes Street and take Lothian Road down to Meadows Park. Meadows Park is something truly great. Like all good running spots, it transforms with the change of seasons. It was snowy beautiful yesterday.

Past the Meadows are a few roads and a close that take you to the breathtaking and aptly named "Holy"rood Park. I know I sing its praises often but if there was ever a place that merited such love, I submit it would be this place indeed.

No doubt you can appreciate the transformation of this place in just the two pics above. It was the snowy version yesterday, of course. And although I usually tell myself there are still miles to go before I sleep and thus I must not exert too much energy around these urban highlands, I nearly always exhaust myself before I get back to finish the loop. There is too much to explore and love about this place, I can hardly help myself. Yesterday, I followed one of the trails up to one of the many crags. It is a steep steep climb and with the slippery snow a speed walker probably could have put me to shame. No matter to me. There were great views along the way. I passed a father nonchalantly dragging his wee son in a plastic sled over some of the hills, as if it was a more efficient means of getting from place to place than a buggy or a pram. A few Springer Spaniels played about chasing snowballs their owners threw and then biting into them when they got the chance. It was the most picturesque thing you could imagine for a Christmas run.

Then would you believe that when I got panting, burning up to that precipice and looked out over this remarkable city that Cat Steven's began to sing Morning Has Broken? It was some very impressive timing on that IPod shuffle of mine - this happens sometimes on the best of runs. Still, this may go in the hall of fame for my running shuffle mixes. After catching the ol' breath and taking in the aerials of an Edinburgh Christmas, I descended down that dear Holyrood,

headed past Holyrood Palace,

then up the Royal mile,

carefully walked down The Mound (it was slippery with snow and grit yesterday),

through Princes Street Gardens and back to William Street.

Nothing kicks off an very Edinburgh holiday a good Christmas run through the city. Indeed it was about the best I remember here but I believe I think that every year when I finish. I can't imagine what that may mean for next year...