Carried by the Wind

Daily miles: 28.02 | Total miles: 14,065.69

I got up just after 6am, had a hot coffee, and opened the curtains to peek outside—checking the wind, as I’ve learned to do. It was there, of course, but it looked a little gentler than yesterday. So, Andrea, a Good Friday—let’s hope for the best.

Once outside, the sky looked magical. Soft colors, a quiet, fiery sunrise beneath a roof of clouds. It was cool, and the wind made it feel even cooler, but I stepped onto the road with an open mind.

Today was not a day for exploring bicycle paths. No nerves, no detours. Just the road ahead. A relatively short day. Relax, rest, take it easy—that was the plan.

The start was slow. Wind in my face, a steady incline. I gave myself time, trusting that I might ease into a rhythm later on. And slowly, with some good music in my ears and a calmer mind, I did. I started running and felt good, even with the northern wind still present.

At one point, the wind shifted slightly and came from behind. Suddenly, I felt carried. Light. Free. Almost like flying—careful not to trip, not to lose balance, but still… it felt beautiful. Like sailing. Like being a bird.

And watching the birds out there, you can see how they use the wind—how they move through different layers, rising and gliding with ease. There’s something to learn from that.

After about 10 miles, I spotted a man in the distance with a backpack. I waved, crossed the road, and said hello. Felix—a self-described hippie—walking from Spain to Germany, his home country. He had very little left, most of his belongings stolen along the way. I gave him some food, a hug, and we said goodbye.

As I kept running, I was reminded how incredibly privileged I am. So many people don’t have access to clean water, medical care, or enough food. They live in unsafe conditions and have to survive day by day. That stayed with me. And somehow, the running felt lighter.

At mile 15, I stopped at the first café I saw. I crossed the road, parked the buggy, and went inside. A raisin roll and a coffee. I soon found myself in conversation with others—Fred, and Joël, the owner. I told them about my run. It was a warm and easy exchange before I stepped back out into the wind for the final miles.

The running felt steady. Even with the headwind, I focused on one step at a time, breathing consciously, staying in rhythm.

At one point, a truck pulled over. I hesitated—I didn’t want to break my flow—but then I thought, if someone stops, that’s a kind gesture. So I stopped too. The driver offered me his coffee through the window, warning me about the sugar. We both smiled. I drank it in one go—sweet, but perfect fuel for the last stretch.

The wind shifted again and made the final 10 miles more challenging. But knowing I would finish early helped keep my spirits high.

Five miles before the hotel, I saw a supermarket near a roundabout. Well, Andrea—it’s 2026. Of course, it’s open, even on Easter. I got a beet salad, some microwave rice, and a can of chickpeas. A perfect dinner.

In the distance, I could see tall, snow-capped mountains ahead. Beautiful, even from afar. I was sweating under my jacket, but the wind was too cold to take it off.

The last four miles took me on a small detour—Google adding a loop—but after so many miles on the same road, it was actually a nice change.

My hotel is called Premier Class. I like the name—especially for what it is. Perfect for tonight.

A shower, a good meal, and now I feel relaxed.

Thanks for checking in.

And a good Friday. Andrea