Member-only story
Getting Lost in Germany
A happy little run that had me stressing
I’ve never been much of a runner, even when I was in insanely good shape. I hated it. It was boring, nothing really happened, you did the same thing for a long stretch of time. No thanks. When I was visiting Germany, my friend wanted to head out for her nightly run. Thinking that I had ate too many fries and delicious treats (and thinking I was extremely fat even though I was far from it), I decided to join her.
It all started off as well as it could. We ran down the block and into a little forest, following a trail. We stopped to take in the view of a small meadow, and I felt like I could maybe get into running. If running meant only running in a forest and taking a huge amount of breaks, then yeah, it would be alright. My friend, being someone who enjoys running and does it often, was going on a long journey. I didn’t feel like I could run that far and that long, so bid her adieu, taking mental notes of where we broke off and thinking I would find my way back.
Spoiler: I didn’t.
Instead, I ended up in a suburb, but not the suburb I wanted to be in. My German, though studied at University, was paltry and I couldn’t hold full sentences. The sun was setting, I had no phone (ah, the good old times when we had to use our wit instead of just Google Maps and Uber), and I started to panic. I…
