Running the World: Luxembourgish, Seriously?

Sometimes I get nostalgic for the places I have visited for marathons past. At work, I glance away from my computer screen and catch sight of the postcards on my bulletin board: Tromso, Norway; Reykjavik, Iceland; Dublin, with its rows of colorful townhouse doors. In Tromso, north of the Arctic Circle and near enough to polar bear country, I slept in a bunk bed in a wooden cabin surrounded by trees and low hills, and the window next to my bed never darkened. I forget the stress of the initial arrival in the city, the confusion of finding transport from downtown to the campground, the anxiety of waiting around for my first evening marathon and hoping the rain would stop (it did). In the end, it’s the romance that stands out: the beautiful vista as we ran along the coastline with the sun low over the water, the triumphant downhill dash from the crest of the bridge toward mile marker 13, the campground, the cabin with its rustic charm, running water, and big-screen TV. (That’s my kind of camping!)

Oh, can’t I go back? Could I recapture the magic? I went back to Dublin a year ago, as I was starting this blog, and celebrated my first international marathon with my first return to an international marathon city. I loved it. I wanted to go back this year. But I figured, how many times can you luck out with good weather on your Wild Wicklow bus tour through the countryside the day after the marathon? (I’ve had two good bus tours without rain. Surely in Ireland that’s a miracle.)

So I started searching for my next destination. It is getting harder now, because I don’t run on Sundays for religious reasons. Dublin is always a Monday run; so was the marathon in Utrecht, in the Netherlands. Tromso and Reykjavik are Saturday events. But Sunday marathons are popular, and even more popular in Europe, it seems, than in the United States. I think I could—and shall, eventually—pen a whole blog entry about why marathons should not take place on Sunday, leaving religion out of it. But I’ll save that for later.

Because in spite of the difficulty (and I am counting on the increasing popularity of marathon running to add new events to the Marathon Guide calendar every year), I found my next marathon destination. Next June, I am heading to Luxembourg.

Luxembourg? Well, it wasn’t on my radar. Here’s part of what’s exciting in searching for marathons that don’t take place on Sunday—you end up going places you hadn’t thought of visiting before. If someone asked me my top-priority European destinations, just as a tourist, I’d probably rattle off the standards that come to everyone’s mind. I’d love to go back to France, of course, and visit Germany, Austria, and Switzerland, maybe Italy, Greece when I am especially adventurous, and the United Kingdom more than once, with a good chunk of time in Scotland. So far, I haven’t run marathons in any of those countries. But I can’t imagine trading any of the destinations I have visited; every one has been life changing in its own way.

Luxembourg, then. I think my impressions of this small country stem mostly from a series of books I read as a teenager, all set in the past and involving numerous European destinations. For me the idea of Luxembourg attaches to a sense of romance and history; I envision café terraces overlooking idyllic scenery, men in World War II uniforms, women with bright lipstick and flowing dresses. But Luxembourg today, and in real life? Hmm.

I looked it up on Wikipedia. (I have a feeling my college French professor Monsieur H. would not approve.) I learned that Luxembourg is the last remaining grand duchy, it borders France, Belgium, and Germany, and the official languages are French, German, and … Luxembourgish. Seriously?

My Luxembourg run is scheduled for June 8, 2013. That gives me some time to plan—how long will I stay, what places will I visit? (Perhaps France, Belgium, and Germany?) Oh, I am getting excited already! And in the meantime, maybe I can practice my French and pick up a few words of, um, Luxembourgish.

I must have picked the right destination. The word Luxembourgish makes me smile.