A Tough 27 Miles to Yuma

This morning I woke up knowing I had a relatively short run ahead—just about 27 miles from Wray to Yuma. I had already booked a hotel room, which made things feel more manageable and gave me something to look forward to. After my usual cold instant coffee and packing up the buggy, I hit the road at 6:30am.

Leaving Wray on Highway 34 West, I soon found myself on what felt like a never-ending road with a very slight, but persistent incline. It wasn't steep by any means, but just enough to make everything harder—especially when combined with the cold northwesterly breeze blowing straight into my face. The wind added resistance to every step and made even walking feel like a challenge.

Honestly, today my body just wasn’t feeling it. My legs were heavy and sluggish. My head was foggy, even though I tried focusing my intention on getting through the run with as little struggle as possible. It was one of those days where no amount of food, water, or electrolytes could shift the feeling. Stopping didn’t help either. Sometimes you hope that taking a break might spark a second wind—but nothing worked today.

And yet, I didn’t get frustrated. Maybe that’s what day 132 teaches me: there will be days when everything is off, and the best thing to do is accept it. I tried to ignite the fire, but it just wouldn’t burn. And still—I kept moving forward. That’s something I’m proud of.

The landscape along the way was beautiful, but I couldn’t really take it in the way I usually do. The wind got on my nerves. Running into it, uphill, pushing the heavy buggy, honestly just felt ridiculous at times. I longed to run freely, with good posture and proper form. But today, I was in “grind mode.” My left shoulder hurt, my head felt strange, my legs weren’t having it.

A few miles before arriving in Yuma, I passed what’s said to be the largest cattle feedlot in the country—800,000 cows. The smell was intense and honestly, I caught myself wondering if maybe that was contributing to how off I felt. Funny how the mind tries to make sense of days like these.

Despite all that, I reached Yuma by early afternoon. I walked into the hotel I had booked and was struck by the decor—maybe a bit over the top, but charming in its own way. It felt warm, unique, and beautiful. The owner, Kasia, came in and we started talking. When I told her about my project, she immediately offered to donate the room for my run. After such a difficult day, that one kind gesture turned everything around. I felt deeply grateful—what a reminder that we live in a beautiful world, full of good people.

Now I’m in my room. I’ve showered, eaten, had something to drink, and I’m settling in with good Wi-Fi. I’m still not fully feeling like myself, but that’s okay. Tomorrow is another day, and I’ve got time to recover. I’ll sleep early tonight and get ready to continue my journey through Colorado. The colder temperatures will take some adjustment, but hey—I’m Swiss. I’ll adapt.

Thanks again for following along and for supporting me. It means more than you know.