Hanoi is located in the Red River Delta, one of the most densely populated areas in the world. It is also poor, heavily urbanized, and seriously polluted. Perfect for running.
Liz and I both work pretty long hours, much of it involving typing on a computer while sitting at a desk. We both also like to eat – a lot. If we didn’t exercise, we’d be rather large. Actually, take out the “rather.” Therefore, we’ve got to do something. For us, it’s running. Liz has been running since college. I’m a fairly recent convert, but am trying to catch up.
Hanoi is an interesting place to run. There are no real natural running paths. You have to create your own routes. We have friends who live a bit north of the city and who often run in the fields near their development. I joined once or twice, but quickly soured on the mud-puddles, thorns and quizzical looks from farmers tending their plots and chuckling at idiotic foreigners running in the heart of the day’s heat.
Liz and I have two main running routes – in Reunification Park and along Truc Bach Lake and Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum. Running in Reunification Park (or, as it used to be called “Lenin Park”), is great on a weekend day during the winter or early in the morning before work. Located in the heart of the city, it’s the largest green space in the downtown area and can attract huge crowds. For the cost of the 4,000 dong (16 cents) entry fee, you get a birds-eye view of how Hanoi residents relax or exercise.
Running early in the morning reminded us of our runs in Lumpini Park, Bangkok’s giant urban park down the street from our old apartment. Like Lumpini, Thong Nhat is packed before 7 am with walkers, joggers (shufflers), ballroom dancers, hawkers, and flag wavers (photos here). Groups of older men sit on small plastic stools drinking tea, while older women perform slow-motion rhythmic exercises and younger women aerobicize to dance tapes. While running, we often see women exercising while walking around the lake. It’s like something from the old Monty Python skit “Ministry of Funny Walks” as women flap their arms, wag their hips, and bring their knees up to their chests while moving along. Later in the day, particularly on weekends or holidays, vendors slowly walk around selling colorful balloons to kids, while others sit and make colorful and intricate clay figurines. Photographers pose visitors for pictures, while peddlers wheel around mobile scales to weigh people. Liz and I paid 5,000 dong (30 cents) to find out that we were fat. A small children’s railway circumnavigates the park and little kids like to waive at us as they pass by. If the weather is nice, brides and grooms converge on the park in tuxes and bridal dresses to take their wedding photos. I’ve counted up to six at one time. I sometimes try to sneak in the back of the shots. Unlike Lumpini, we haven’t seen early morning karaoke. Instead, we normally see dozens of matches of badminton, pitting old and young, male and female against each other. I read an article recently which said that the company that developed the giant resort we stayed at in Nha Trang has plans to develop the park into an entertainment area, modeled on Disneyland, a ridiculous and inappropriate idea for a densely populated city that desperately needs “green lungs” and open spaces. Hopefully, it will remain as is and Liz and I will get to learn a bit more about our neighbors.
One morning on my way into Unification Park to run, I was accosted by a group of teenaged huggers. “Huggers?” you say? Yes, huggers. A group of about a dozen boys and girls wearing red bandanas were outside the entrance to the park offering passers-by cookies and a hug. They seemed to enjoy my Vietnamese, though they were looking to improve their English skills. Anyway, a biscuit or two later, after a well-photographed hug (sadly, I did not bring my camera), we were able to begin our run. I wonder what has become of that photo? Gracing high school girl’s locker, like Justin Timberlake? At the bottom of a parakeet’s cage?
The Truc Bach run is the quintessential urban run – dodging cars and scooters as we cross streets (or run in the streets), trying to avoid mysterious potholes and ankle-breaking gaps among the pavement, enjoying the smells of grilled pork, not enjoying the smells of urine. We usually run this route in the evenings after work, hopefully after traffic has died down. It can be scenic – we pass the Military Museum and the Citadel, run around Truc Bach lake and across from West Lake, and finally salute Ho Chi Minh as we jog by his tomb. We pass dozens of restaurants and beer halls, families out enjoying themselves in the relative cool of the evening, balloon sellers and fruit hawkers. On the back side of the lake, there is little motorized traffic and families and friends gather on the banks of the lake to enjoy drinks and various hotpots. As we run by, the touts sometimes try to lure us over for a snack. I guess it appears that I’d rather be eating stewed turtle than running. Though I sometimes feel like we’re running in stew due to the humidity, we’ve been able to fight off the desire for frog legs and snails long enough to finish our run.
Post-run routines vary depending on time of day. A morning run may be followed by a bowl of pho, particularly welcome in the winter cold. Vietnamese love to point to us as we walk along in shorts and t-shirts in what they believe to be Arctic conditions (read 60 degrees). Anyway, it’s a good way to rehydrate. Another way to rehydrate is by drinking beer. After an evening run with my friend Joaquin, we sometimes gravitate towards one of Hanoi’s numerous bia hoi stalls. Imported into Hanoi from the Czechs during the period of socialist solidarity, these Hanoi institutions, or beer “halls,” may be as small as a few plastic chairs in the sidewalk or may be large enough to seat a thousand boozing Hanoians. We walk in, grab a stool, and order. The beer is low alcohol lager – all the more refreshing. Goes nicely with fried tofu or sautéed morning glory. We try to avoid the roasted dog, steamed chicken ovaries, or boiled beef penis. It’s a convivial atmosphere and occasionally a group of men (it’s mostly, but not quite exclusively men that go to bia hois) will wander on over to try out their English or enjoy our conversational Vietnamese. After an hour or so (or after we’ve restored our electrolyte balance), we head home feeling good about our strenuous exercise.
