I’m a hard-core runner. Not in terms of distance or speed, but every-day-ness. And my need to do it every day is a special gift when I’m traveling. There’s no better way to get the lay of the land, and have the joy of watching a place come to life and start its day.This morning, my first full day in Rome, I waited until the first glimpse of light at 6 before heading out. Unlike when I’m at home in Swarthmore, I am a little apprehensive about running alone in a foreign country when it’s dark, imagining the headline, “Crazy American senior citizen murdered while jogging in the middle of the night.”But even at dawn, I had the city to myself. Except for the people already lining up for Easter mass at the Vatican, and the vendors hawking “Cheap rosaries, blessed by Pope.” And the pigeons, enjoying a hearty breakfast from the leavings of a Saturday evening in Trastevere. Not for long, though; the street cleaners were already out by 7, even on Easter Sunday.