Rain, Rhythm, and 12,000 Miles

Daily miles: 20.51 | Total miles: 12,016.38

The night carried a warning. Another thunderstorm was forecast, and it arrived with force—heavy wind, rain drumming against the van, thunder rolling through the darkness. When my alarm went off at 6 a.m., the storm was still in full voice. The windows were closed, so I couldn’t see the lightning, but I’m sure it was there. The sound alone was convincing. I chose rest over resistance and let myself sleep a little longer. Some days begin not with movement, but with listening.

By 9 a.m., the thunder had faded, though the rain remained. The forecast promised a wet day from start to finish. Cold coffee, layers on, and then straight into the bakery just a few steps from where we were parked. “Kalimera,” I said, scanning the shelves for koulouri. None in sight—only sweets. My eyes landed on an enormous croissant topped with chocolate. I asked if it was possible to have one without the chocolate spread. Yes. Did I want syrup on it? No. I left with what might be the biggest croissant I’ve ever seen.

Back in the van, my sister was up now too. She burst out laughing when she saw my purchase. I ate half of it and stepped into the grey morning. Cool air, light drizzle, low sky. I expected a very wet day—but it was also my 12,000-mile day. Plenty to celebrate. Nothing to complain about. Still, I didn’t quite feel the milestone yet. Sometimes meaning arrives later.

The first hours passed gently, with only short spells of rain. I reached a town, sat down for a few minutes, looked around, and called my sister to check in. Just as I stood up to continue, the rain returned. A little later, she appeared with tea—just a few sips, but perfectly timed. Then the sky opened properly. Within minutes, I was soaked through and cold. No drama, just weather being weather.

I continued on for another five miles toward a spot my sister had found for the night. The last two miles, I could hear thunder again in the distance—low, rolling, unmistakable. More rain was coming. I arrived at the van about five minutes before the downpour hit in full force. Perfect timing. I lay on the bed and watched the water stream down the windshield, feeling deeply grateful to be warm and dry inside.

Today was shorter in miles, but full in its own way. Twelve thousand miles. Almost every day showing up. Consistency over perfection. Lessons learned not in grand moments, but in quiet persistence—through storms, doubt, joy, and all the in-between days.

I’m incredibly thankful to have my sister here. Her presence, her support, her laughter—they make these days lighter and richer. We ended the evening with another wonderful dinner, Greek salad and couscous on the table, rain outside, warmth inside.

Another day done. Another milestone passed.

Thanks for checking in. Andrea