A Buona Domenica to Verona

Daily miles: 34.02 | Total miles: 13,276.85

Yesterday around 11 p.m., just when I was getting ready for bed, Alessio—my roommate for the night—walked through the door of the hostel. It turned out he was Swiss too, from the Italian-speaking part. A nice little surprise. And then the moment I laid my head on the pillow, I was already deeply asleep, as far as I can remember.

My alarm rang at 5 a.m. I snoozed once for ten minutes, but then I got up. It was Sunday, sunny weather, and a running day in Italy—so many reasons to start the day in a good mood, even though I still felt a bit tired.

Cold coffee, quietly packing, carrying everything downstairs, organizing the buggy. At 6:15 a.m., while I was packing the buggy in front of the house, I already heard Yolanda’s voice calling, “ANDREA!” That immediately made me smile.

I finished packing, staying focused on the keys and locks so I wouldn’t accidentally lock myself in—or out. Once everything was secured, I took the few steps over to Yolanda’s house. I could see her at the window on the third floor calling, “Aperto!” I opened the gate and then the house door, walked upstairs, and was warmly greeted with baci.

“Vieni, vieni,” she said. Then, “Sedersi, sedersi,” so I sat down. Soon the questions followed: coffee? What would you like to eat?

I fully enjoyed that moment—sitting with Yolanda, having a coffee together and a bite to eat. I normally wouldn’t have eaten, but it was impossible to refuse breakfast from a caring friend like that. She told me many things, and my tired mind tried to follow and understand. Un poco… well, actually just un pocchettino did I understand.

Before I left, Yolanda packed some food in a bag for me to take along. Honestly, we could have spent the whole day together, but I really needed to go.

It was just before 7 a.m. when I started my run through Vicenza. Early Sunday mornings are always my favorite running hours—quiet streets in cities that are normally quite busy.

Soon I found myself running along the parallel road of the highway toward Verona. Not the most beautiful stretch, but the most direct route—and today I had enough miles ahead of me already.

Around mile six, I felt very tired in my head, and when the mind feels heavy, the body often follows. The weather was great and the road flat, but sometimes it’s simply harder to move forward.

So I stopped for a coffee and decided to be completely nonjudgmental about having a slow day. I might not have mastered that skill perfectly yet, but I come fairly close—and I’m proud of the progress I’ve made over these past 443 days. Mentally, this journey has taught me so much about understanding and managing my thoughts and emotions.

This run around the world has already paid off a million times through all the small lessons learned along the way.

After the coffee I felt a bit more energy again—until mile 21. Suddenly the buggy became very difficult to push. I checked the wheel, and yes, the right tire was completely flat.

I pushed the buggy to a safe place in the shade and fixed the tube. Luckily it was an easy repair. Then I ran on. Still 13 miles to go.

Approaching Verona meant more traffic and more obstacles. But close to the city, two women cheered me on from the side of the road. Moments like that always surprise me.

One thing this journey keeps teaching me is that support often comes from the people I least expected.

Life is interesting.

When I finally arrived at the place where I will rest tonight, I made myself a coffee and started working on all the social media so I can go to bed early.

It was a wonderful, sunny day. A true buona domenica.

I’m tired now.

Be well, and a domani, Andrea