From Resistance to Rhythm

Daily miles: 34.81 | Total miles: 15,029.18

When the alarm rang, I think I had less than four hours of sleep. And today was the day people had asked me about before—the kind of day where you don’t want to run at all.

Today was that day.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was also an exciting new start—new country, familiar terrain ahead, a meaningful stretch to come. But my head felt incredibly tired. My body too. There was a longer moment than I’ve ever had on this journey where I genuinely questioned how I would even begin, let alone cover any distance.

Usually, getting going isn’t a problem. But today, I had to work for it.

And in a strange way, I love that—how we can motivate ourselves in the most creative ways when there seems to be no spark at all.

I got dressed. Cold coffee. The room still full of cardboard and wrapping plastic from yesterday. I repacked my backpack, reorganized the buggy, tightened a screw—and then noticed it.

A flat tire. Really?

But at that point, it almost felt fitting. Already tired, already late—why not enjoy a “little fix”? I got down on the floor, grateful at least to have cardboard to kneel on. Much better than fixing it out on the road.

I remembered my first flat tire during training in England—down in a ditch, in the rain, surrounded by bushes. That was something. Today felt like luxury in comparison. I even found the hole in the tube using the sink in the bathroom and pulled out a tiny wire with a tweezer. Problem solved.

Now I was ready—or so I thought. But then there were so many messages about my 500-day reel, and I wanted to reply. Time passed quickly. At 9am—yes, 9—I finally opened the door.

At the same moment, Stipo, the owner of the apartment, arrived. I told him about the cardboard and wrapping materials—no problem, he said. Later I noticed his wife had already taken care of it. Thank you—and sorry again.

And then I started running.

My legs… my eyes… my head… my whole body.

The first miles were tough. I was still near the airport—big roads, heavy traffic. The thought of running more than 30 miles felt almost absurd.

But as always, something shifted. After about two miles, it got easier.

I realized I was a bit dehydrated from the day before—dry skin, thirsty from the start. But step by step, the rhythm returned. That threshold that every runner knows. Once you pass it, everything changes.

I found bike paths alongside the main roads and slowly made my way out of Zagreb.

Around noon, I took a break—coffee, recharging my phone, organizing a place to stay. I called Ivan and asked if he could give me a good deal. He could. Thank you, Ivan.

Still, more than 20 miles to go. Go, go, go.

It started raining, and the last 15 miles were along a road without a shoulder. Cars passing close, some drivers clearly annoyed. I had the traffic behind me and trusted them—even the impatient ones.

There were tense moments, no doubt.

But also a quiet reminder: Day 501. More than 15,000 miles.

New start. New luck. Croatia.

Life is good.

The tension in the body still came and went, but the mind kept trying to soften it. I find that interplay fascinating—the constant dialogue between body and mind. Especially after 15,000 miles.

When I arrived in Zabok, I had to add an extra loop to reach a supermarket. I got dinner, then made my way to the apartment.

Ivan welcomed me and showed me the room. A shared kitchen, a simple setup—I like it.

Now it’s time to sleep.

A hard day to start with, that turned into a good running day.

Thank you for accompanying me on this unbelievable journey.

Hvala, Andrea