A Collage of Felt Memories

From Pouilly-en-Auxois to Montbard (Daily Miles: 35.22 | Total Miles: 16,187.64)

My alarm rang at 6 a.m. Cold coffee, the usual routine. I made myself and the buggy ready for a wet day. That means certain things have to be organized and packed in a specific way so that everything is ready when needed in the rain. I will be very happy when I don't have to push the buggy anymore. However, the order and system I have developed for all my gear is now well thought out and highly optimized after all these miles.

I first had to find my way back onto the bicycle path, leaving the industrial zone behind me. I also urgently needed food for the road. I had nothing left except a banana. So I asked the woman at the reception if there was anywhere open, and she told me about a bakery in town. Perfect.

I bought several pastries: a croissant, an almond croissant, a cheese bread, a raisin bread, a tarte au fromage, and later I went back in for a pain au chocolat, which I ate right there for breakfast. Looking at the sky, it was obvious that the forecast had been right. For days it had predicted rain, and the clouds above me spoke volumes. So I prepared myself mentally for whatever might come and started running along the canal with a positive but realistic mindset.

The first five miles stayed dry. I saw a horse pulling a carriage, many cows grazing in the fields, and as always, I talked to them. I love how they seem to listen and respond.

Around mile five, the rain arrived. From that point on, the weather constantly changed. Light drizzle became heavy downpours, heavy downpours turned into hail, and then suddenly the sun would appear again. There are always moments when I am completely soaked, my clothes feel heavy, and the cold wet fabric clings to my body. In those moments, I don't particularly enjoy it. But then there are other moments when my brain seems to love the full exposure to the elements, running through it all and feeling intensely alive and clear.

Those are the moments that stay with me.

I often think that this journey will become a collage of felt memories. Not memories of what happened, but memories of what life felt like. They will stay with me for the rest of my life and remind me of the many different ways life can be experienced. In the end, it will always be my choice how I live each minute, each day, and each year.

Sometimes I hear people explain complex matters in elaborate ways, yet I often feel that what matters most cannot be fully explained. For me, it isn't about words. It isn't about impressing anyone. It's about paying attention to feelings and sensations and noticing what feels right and meaningful to me, regardless of what might be commonly accepted or expected.

When I find myself alone in extreme rain or running through a thunderstorm with lightning rolling across the sky, I learn something about myself. Those moments reveal my values, my priorities, and my preferences more clearly than any theory ever could.

Today was a lonely day out there, but a good kind of lonely. Solitude wrapped itself around me and stayed with me for most of the run.

The only person I really stopped and talked to was Jean-Yves, a fisherman. Once again, we didn't speak the same language, but somehow we still managed to have a wonderful conversation and convey our interest in one another. Later, a couple of cyclists passed me and stopped briefly. Apparently they had seen me several times over the last few days.

About three miles before Montbard, the sun finally broke through the clouds. Steam rose from the ground, from the fields, and from my clothes. It felt magical. Everything around me seemed alive and breathing. At the same time, enough dark clouds remained in the sky to remind me that another shower could arrive at any moment.

Fortunately, it didn't.

I reached the room that I had booked earlier in the day, where Daniel and Gisèle welcomed me warmly and handed me the keys. Both seemed genuinely impressed by the journey.

The moment they left, I immediately started doing laundry. Every heater in the apartment is now switched on, and my socks and underwear are spread across them drying. Which means I probably need to keep an eye on everything to make sure the apartment doesn't catch fire.

I had a shower, boiled some eggs, and will soon heat up rice in the microwave. Tonight's dinner will be rice, red kidney beans, and eggs. Delicious.

Thanks for checking in. Andrea