About 40 Miles and 3 States!

After a restful night and enough quality sleep, I got up early and stepped outside just before 6:30 a.m. The time zone change had bumped me forward an hour again — one of many shifts lately that’s left my internal clock a bit confused. It was still dark when I started, but as I made my way north, the sun slowly began to rise on my right. The morning light painted the land in soft gold, and the beauty of northern Kansas revealed itself once more.

Soon after joining Highway 27, the road rolled over gentle hills, a change from the flatter stretches I’d seen before. Cows grazed peacefully, birds danced in the air, and deer leapt across the landscape. I could’ve stopped for a dozen photos — but I knew I had 40 miles to cover and kept myself focused. You never know what a day might bring out here.

The evening before, while checking my route, I realized that today I’d be crossing not just one but two state lines — a short detour through Nebraska before entering Colorado. Sure enough, after 22 miles of scenic running, I reached the southwestern corner of Nebraska, greeted by a sign: “The Good Life.” At that moment, I also crossed back into Mountain Time — another hour shift, this time backward, which made the rest of the day feel just a little more manageable.

I ran about 8 miles in Nebraska, quietly taking in the vastness. The road gradually climbed most of the way until just before Wray.

I didn’t speak to anyone all day — just ran. And in that solitude, I felt a calm sense of awe and appreciation. What are the chances I’d ever run through all of Kansas, across this quiet corner of Nebraska, and into Colorado? These landscapes — their silence, space, and rhythm — will stay with me forever.

There’s something powerful about being alone with your breath and the sound of your footsteps, knowing you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. State lines have a strange way of grounding and encouraging me. Each one marks another milestone — a reminder that all these daily miles, easy or hard, are adding up and steadily pushing me west.

Of course, I know there’s still a lot ahead — including mountains! But yes, I do allow myself to dream of the Pacific from time to time.

I arrived in Wray, checked into the hotel I’d reserved the day before, and everything went smoothly. Good Wi-Fi, kind neighbors, and a comfy bed. Wray, as I learned, is the town with the lowest elevation in Colorado… so it’s most likely uphill from here.

Let’s go. Thanks for being here.