The ghost of Rome.

It's 6:30 am and my alarm goes off. The next 30 seconds consists of a debate I have with myself. Do I want to get out of bed or continue to lay here and skip todays run. There is something serene about the early mornings, making it my favorite time to go running. My better half wins and I quickly jump out of bed before convincing myself otherwise.

With the majority of the city still dreaming, I take off at a jog. The Italian summer sun already warm on my face, I round the corner almost running into a local butcher. He is carefully preparing a display case with fine Italian meats and smiles as I pass him. There are scattered people on the streets at this early hour and I weave in and out, making my way towards the San Giovanni Laterano. Passing a group of priests on their way to the church, I make a right and run down one of Rome's narrow cobblestone roads. Lined with gelaterias and pizzerias, their owners are busy setting up for the day ahead. My destination, still far in the distance, begins to come into view as I run down this normally crowded street. With Lady Gaga blasting on my Ipod, I reach the Colosseum.

So far, this is my favorite place in Rome and my new running spot. Still quiet and not yet crowded with the daily tour guides and men dressed like gladiators ready to pose for a photo, I take a minute and digest it all. I gaze at the ancient arena that stands before me. Empty holes cover the surrounding wall which at one time were embraced in marble, iron, and lead. Taken by the Popes, the stolen materials were used to build St. Peter's Basilica and Piazza Venezia, leaving a barren skeleton with a bloody past.

I can't help but imagine what a day looked like for the Colosseum back when gladiators and exotic animals battled to the death while bloodthirsty spectators sipped their goblets of wine. The opening ceremony lasted 100 days claiming the lives of 5000 animals, many imported from Africa. My mind drifts off thinking of Russel Crowe and I laugh at Hollywood's depiction of Rome. Wishing everyone back home could see what lay before me, I remembered my Ipod's video camera setting. I NEVER imagined this would come in use; I also never imagined I would be living in Rome. Pausing the country song that now played through my ear phones, I took the video below.

With a smile on my face, I make my way back towards San Giovanni. Just before it is about to disappear out of view, I turn around making sure to get one more look at the ghost of the ancient Romans.