A Little Life in the Alps

Had you told me a few months ago that I’d find myself running in not one, but two races in Switzerland during our trip, I would’ve laughed you out of the room. And yet, here we are: two weeks in, and the Lum family has somehow become a family that runs. And not just when being chased.

This time, we graduated to the big show: the Bern Grand Prix.

Granted, we ran the 1.6 km family race, along with Sabine and the girls—not the 16 km race that Sabine tackled solo later in the day—but still. Let me remind you that prior to this, I had likely run a cumulative total of 1.6 km in the last twenty years. So, as I bask in the afterglow a couple of days later, you’ll have to suffer the inevitable embellishment that comes with most of these posts.

In all honesty, I’m just happy I made it out of there without pulling a hammy or publicly humiliating myself (and my teammates). Sheila, who runs almost every day at home, was gracious enough to keep her commentary to herself as I dug out running gear that had been collecting mothballs in my closet since my last ill-advised running phase (probably sparked by trying to impress her twenty years ago).

We weren’t sure how Cedar would handle it—especially in a crowd of 30,000 people (not all in our heat, thankfully)—but when the starter pistol went off, he was locked in. Took off like an airplane. If he’d been a bit more comfortable in the crowd, he probably would’ve left both of us in the dust, burning up the Bernese cobblestones.

As I’ve mentioned before, the Swiss like to move. This whole event was just another reminder of what we love about being here—sunshine, families, picnics, and the free beer you get at the finish line.

We’d caught an early train from Montreux to Bern that morning, but the travel was so easy and seamless we hardly noticed the time. After the race, still feeling surprisingly energized with gas in the tank, we decided to walk from the stadium down into the old town.

We stopped to see the famous Bernese bears, which, honestly, aren’t my favourite site-seeing stop. I can’t help but wonder what kind of life it is for these beautiful animals to sit in a pit in the middle of the city being gawked at by tourists. But it’s part of Bern’s history—bears have been kept in the city since the 1100s—and Cedar was interested, as always, with lots of questions.

After an ice cream break, we found ourselves sitting on the steps below Einstein’s old apartment—yes, that Einstein—where he lived back in the early 1900s. Kind of surreal to think we were a few feet away from where one of the greatest thinkers of all time once sat working out the theory of relativity, while we sat tackling our melting cones.

We made an impromptu decision to stick around and cheer Sabine on in her race. Thanks to the magic of location-sharing, we tracked her and joined the crowd lining the streets—cheering, high-fiving runners, and in some cases, passing out beers.

While waiting, Sheila discovered an incredible park just a few blocks away from the race route. People were everywhere—ping pong, bocce, trampolines, music, and a solid amount folks of all ages enjoying the sun, and a few drinks. And it all just works. It’s wild to think how many hours of public hearings it took just to legalize one beer garden in a park back home. Not that beer is the point—but there’s something to be said about how peaceful and respectful it all was. Nobody was acting irresponsibly, completely opposite. It’s one of those “this is why we can’t have nice things” moments when I compare it to how similar scenes can devolve back home.

After a great afternoon at the park, we rejoined the Grand Prix crowd just in time to cheer Sabine on when she ran past. We were a small but mighty cheering section, and she beat her time from last year, which was awesome.

Famished from our cheering duties, we went off in search of food and stumbled upon a Rösti place near the train station. If you haven’t had Rösti before, imagine a good Canadian breakfast—two eggs over medium, a pile of bacon, all laid out over shredded, crispy hash browns. Delicious. Filling. Probably didn’t need to order two, but we did.

Cedar ordered something called the Winky Dinky, and I’ll leave it to your imagination what that consisted of.

The evening was winding down, and we still had a 2.5-hour train ride back to Montreux ahead of us. I figured Cedar would crash. Silly me. Instead, he spent the ride counting cows and watching the Swiss sunset roll by on yet another full, fun, and unforgettable day on this wild adventure. Love and miss you all!