The beach beckons

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The beach, Santos, Brazil - it must be obeyed

I have lived in Santos, an island in southeastern Brazil, since January 2015 when I moved from Toronto, Canada. The winter in Toronto that year was so bad even Torontonians expressed some surprise when the temperature plummeted to minus 35C. It was so cold that spending any time outside at all was just idiotic. People sing Toronto's praises and often cite its very low rate of crime. They do not mention that the reason for this low rate of crime is that everyone is off the streets for half the year, sheltering from the elements. 

Santos gets to around 35C (positive) in January and you can probably imagine that I suffered a bit before acclimatising. Perhaps because of this shocking shift in climate, I spent most of 2015 ignoring the beach that is no more than 400 meters from where I live. I've wasted lots of time in my life, and that period - which extended into 2016 - is right up there in the top ten worst examples of my time wasting. Fortunately, I saw the light as it danced off the sea and sand. 

Santos is not a beautiful city. It is in many parts among the ugliest places I have ever seen, in fact. However, the beach is just fine. It is not white and powdery like I have seen in photos of the Caribbean, but an army of workers keeps it clean and it is, in my experience, safe. Perhaps best of all from a runner's point of view, it is long and the sand near the shore is usually firm and compact, while offering enough give to reduce impact stress. 

I think I said I would stay away from the long beach runs for a week to allow for some rest. Well, it's my plan and I can change it whenever I like. I need to get back on the sand. I've enjoyed reacquainting myself with the gym but I have something akin to an actual itch in my legs that demands a long run. If my heel gives in tomorrow, I cannot be blamed - the beach must be obeyed. 


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