Following the somewhat resigned undertones of yesterday, the motivation to get in shape is all around you in Paris. A population of slender waifs makes one feel trim just by opening one’s eyes.
Took my first jog for 3-4 years yesterday, around Montparnasse. No idea how far I went, but never has there been such a rapid transition from elysian elation ( first 3 minutes) to dogged drudgery (the remaining 32 minutes). Speaking of dogs, having to keep on the lookout for canine IEDs certainly adds to the workout.
Parisian motivation: push and pull factors