Leaning Into the Wind
Daily miles: 31.29 | Total miles: 11,509.41
The night was stormy. Loud rain, strong wind, everything very present. I got up feeling some lingering pain. Cold coffee, rain jacket on, then off, and I was on my way.
The road told the story of the night before: debris everywhere, garbage bins knocked over, branches scattered across the asphalt. The wind was still coming in sudden bursts. I walked today, and the slower pace gave me time to reflect.
I started thinking about change—about the last few months and how I might want the next few to look different. I find it fascinating to think about change, but even more interesting to actually execute it, to move from idea to action. Sometimes I wonder if it would really be so hard to reintroduce a bit more discipline. And then the honest questions come: Do I have the motivation? The strength? Am I willing to break a routine and shift toward something that feels exciting and truly worthwhile?
After more than a year of extreme focus, maybe even some rigidity in the execution of my dream, I can sense what I’m craving most: more playfulness. Agility—physically, mentally, emotionally. That’s what I love. So perhaps the goal now is to create an atmosphere, and the right circumstances, where a whole spectrum of possibilities can exist.
The first ten miles were cool and windy, with a fair bit of uphill toward a castle. The views were beautiful—mountains all around, Mount Olympus standing strong in the distance. It was a good stretch for reflection, for appreciating the slower pace, and for feeling grateful to have my sister with me on this journey.
Right at mile ten, she showed up. Breakfast. Perfect timing.
When I continued, the sun was out and for a moment it felt warm—but soon the wind turned icy. So strong at times that it nearly brought me to a standstill. I put my jacket back on over my vest and leaned into it, literally. Wind so powerful I had to angle my body forward just to move, and when it suddenly stopped, I almost fell forward.
Today the wind felt particularly violent—loud, forceful, pushy. I walked like a drunk along the white line on the right side of the road. On top of that, Greek farmers are still protesting and blocking main transit routes with their tractors, which meant many trucks were diverted onto the smaller road I was on. I stayed alert and patient.
I don’t know all the details of the protests, but I respect people standing up for what they believe in. And it seems this one will go on.
After 24 miles, I saw my sister again. Coffee in the van. Such a simple thing, and such a gift. I was in some pain, but the short break helped.
The final eight miles were on a narrow road with no shoulder and quite a bit of traffic. Still, I found myself singing, dancing, and genuinely enjoying myself. Sometimes joy shows up exactly when conditions aren’t ideal.
When I arrived at our place for the night—a beautiful spot along the street near truck parking and a drive-through café—we had a great dinner. Now it’s time for rest.
Thanks for checking in.
See you tomorrow, Andrea