BoumTAC

A Summer Saturday

Published on July 30, 2025

This morning, Saturday July 26th, like every weekend, I went for a run. I ran 7 km around my neighborhood, starting a little before 9 AM.

It's a summer vacation Saturday morning—perfect for going for a run and getting your day off to a good start. I was running through the recent neighborhoods north of Toulouse—the type of new "eco-district" that's rapidly developing in all metropolitan areas—with 4 to 5-story buildings.

It was a little past 9 AM, the streets were deserted, I looked at the apartment building shutters and had a realization: 80% of the shutters were closed. It's summer vacation, so part of the population has gone on holiday. But not everyone goes on vacation during the two summer months. What are they doing? Why isn't anyone up yet after 9 AM?

This struck me because it wasn't as if the streets were dynamic in the evening either. Toulouse is France's 3rd largest city—within a 10-minute walking radius from where I was, I think there are more than 100,000 inhabitants.

I didn't encounter a single runner. Yet this is the ultra-common activity of a Saturday morning. Why isn't anyone running?

I only encountered two young couples with strollers walking their children.

Out of more than 100,000 inhabitants in the area, how many hundreds of dogs are there? I didn't see a single person walking their dog. Yet these are apartments; there's no choice, you have to walk the dog. The streets were deserted—as if it were the apocalypse.

It was past 9 AM, it's not like it was a Saturday morning at 7 AM.

I passed by a children's playground at 9:15 AM—it was empty. Children wake up early though, don't they? If the shutters are closed, what do they do when they're awake?

As I write these lines, it's currently 5 PM on the same day. I'm writing these lines from a picnic table at Lake Sesquières where I've been for 30 minutes.

On a Saturday afternoon, peak hour of activity at the lake, I have 3 benches in my field of vision—all three are empty. On each side, I have visibility of the path for a little less than 200 meters—there's only one person walking their dog—no one else.

Lake Sesquières is a superb lake located in Toulouse filled with activities: wakeboarding, tree climbing, inflatable aquatic park, paddle and canoe rental, barbecue, pétanque court, football, multisport and athletics, street workout, and numerous areas like the one I'm on to relax.

I think more than 300,000 people live within 15 minutes of this place. Yet it's almost empty on a summer Saturday.

What do people do with their lives? There's no one outside in the morning, no one outside in the afternoon. But where are they? What do they do with their lives? It's distressing to see so few active people. On a summer Saturday, this lake should be packed with people.

How can you have captivating conversations if no one ever does anything with their life? Doesn't anyone aspire to better than watching TV and scrolling on Instagram?

Are people still alive? It's a question I'm starting to ask myself.