By the time we hit the stairs for our third (fourth?) descent, it is nine a.m. This time I have the baby on my back and Daniel has the heavy backpack with all our things. We hurry down the steps knowing we are cutting it close. We finish the stairs and start the 300 meter long straightaway to the train station. I swear I hear the chime that indicates trains a-coming in stations in Europe. I start to walk rapidly. Then we definitely hear the rattle of an approaching train. The station is still 200 hundred meters away. We begin to run in earnest. Me with the baby on my back and Daniel with a 50+ pound backpack. A light drizzle has started. We run as fast as possible. Amazing, we arrive at the platform as the train is opening its doors. Out of breath I grab a metal handrail and pull myself aboard. My chest is heaving as we pick a seat. It was like a scene out of a movie, running for a moving train. What Joaquin thinks, I dont know.
It is definitely the sprint at the end of the Giro.
Two trains and a few hours later we are back in Rome.

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