Temenos: Run, Swim, Run

On the advice of some English friends—one how to sleep better on a hot summer night—I came home from the village at midnight (an early night) and took a cold shower behind the house, under a full moon with the low hum of cicadas and the not-to-distant shrieks of foxes and the howls of jackals. Voila! I slept like a baby, a glorious six hours—the most in a single night in the past twenty days.

I felt energized by a decent night’s slumber, so I set off early for another longish run, down the mountain and into the deep, verdant valley behind Finikounda. Running has always proved the best method of exploring new places.

I hooked around the inner agricultural zone and then onto to the beach, running across the sand dunes, which are covered with purple blooming oregano—being careful not to tread where the loggerhead turtles are laying their eggs each night—and then I took a long swim. I keep misplacing my clothes because I swim parallel to the beach and lose track of where I started. I thought the yoga people were playing a trick on me. I was tempted to steal their clothes...but the I found mine.

The beach is big and empty in the early morning, except for the few people doing yoga and tai chi in the buff. We are all in own separate zones of thought and activity, or so it seems.

Then I ran home, back up the mountain. I’m running much slower than my normal training pace, owing to the terrain, the heat, and my usual poor sleep. Despite the pace, I feel as though I could run forever (or at least twenty or thirty miles at a pop). The problem is the intensity of a rising sun and a lack of sufficient water.

These pictures trace my morning run.