Two More Days in France

Daily Miles: 23.13 | Total Miles: 16,456.56

I woke up just after 5 a.m. to the extreme chirping of what felt like hundreds of birds. It was already warm, and everything had dried overnight. Perfect.

Cold coffee, packing, and before 7 a.m. I was on my way.

The route first followed a quiet road with light traffic before directing me onto a bicycle path sheltered by trees. It was cool, humid, and beautiful. I sweated heavily almost immediately and enjoyed the quiet morning.

I love being out in nature and simply taking in whatever catches my attention. Sometimes I feel as though I see everything and nothing at the same time. My mind drifts, notices, remembers, and wonders, all without needing to arrive anywhere. I love feeling the heat and noticing how much work it is for the body to operate under these conditions. I love hearing sounds in the bushes, birds calling, and all those little noises whose source remains a mystery. I love the smell of humidity in the cool shaded sections and then suddenly the intense fragrance of flowers in small micro-environments along the path.

I don't necessarily love my wet fingers slipping back and forth on the buggy handle.

But running on a beautiful, humid morning through Normandy? What a privilege.

Around mile 12, I overtook a group of schoolchildren riding bicycles. I did briefly wonder just how slowly they were going. A little farther ahead I found the rest of the group along with their teachers. I told them about my "tour du monde" and they loved it. There was clapping, excitement, and plenty of questions. We even took a photo together without showing their faces. I had never done that before, but I certainly enjoyed the enthusiasm in the air.

Thanks, kids. That was a great motivator today.

In Gisors, I stopped for groceries and then sat outside against a wall, drinking a cold coffee and eating a salted pretzel. Mohamed was sitting nearby in his car listening to music, and before long we found ourselves in conversation. I very much appreciated the exchange.

When I left, it was just before noon and the heat was extreme. A sign showed 35°C. In some places, it genuinely felt as though my shoes were sticking to the asphalt.

My route follows the Avenue Verte from Paris to London, which is certainly a wonderful way to travel, although not always ideal with a buggy. Then again, obstacles make the days a little more interesting.

At one point I passed a street sign that read "Rue du Cours Renault," and it immediately brought back memories of my time working at Renault. I remembered moving cars around the garage on hot summer days, especially those with black interiors that became ovens in the sun. Sometimes the steering wheel was too hot to touch, but we drove them anyway. Funny what comes back to mind when you're running through France on a hot day.

I have always loved extreme heat. It challenges the mind in a way that I find fascinating.

About three miles before my destination, I met David, Louisa, Howie, and Sam from England. Once again, I found it delightful how openly British people express their excitement and encouragement. It was a wonderful encounter and gave both my body and mind a few minutes to cool down before the final hill of the day.

When I arrived at the chalet I had rented, I had a long list of things I wanted to accomplish. Laundry. Shower. Washing my hair. Eating. Planning the final days. Booking ferries, trains, and accommodation. Creating routes. Making decisions.

While I was on the phone with the ferry operator for what felt like forever, a huge storm passed through. Extreme hail, powerful winds, and thunder so loud that it sounded as though it was directly overhead.

The woman on the phone was incredibly helpful, and by the end of the call I had finally figured out which ferry ticket I needed for both myself and the buggy.

The train tickets for England still seem a little more complicated. Moving myself and the buggy through the British rail system presents some challenges, but I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually.

Water continues to be a theme. Once again, after the storm there was none available due to a water outage, but the owners were kind enough to bring me bottled water so I have sufficient reserves for tonight and tomorrow morning.

And now comes the realization that still feels almost impossible to comprehend.

In just two more days, I will be back in England.

I left England in December 2024. At the time, the world felt unimaginably large and my dream impossibly far away. Since then I have run through Argentina, Chile, the United States, New Zealand, Australia, Japan, South Korea, India, Turkey, Greece, Albania, Montenegro, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Slovenia, Italy, France, Monaco, Spain, Austria, Germany, Switzerland, and now once again France.

Twenty-two countries.

Thousands upon thousands of miles.

One and a half years of my life.

And somehow, after all of that, I am about to return to where this chapter began.

It's incredible. I'm grateful.

One of the lessons this journey has reinforced for me is that we all carry more potential within us than we often believe. Life has a way of convincing us that certain things are impossible, too difficult, too far away, or reserved for someone else.

I don't think that's true.

Looking back now, I don't see talent as the deciding factor. I see commitment, determination, perseverance, and the willingness to show up day after day, especially on the days when it's difficult. Over time, consistency compounds in remarkable ways.

Most dreams don't become reality all at once. They become reality step by step, mile by mile, day by day.

Perhaps that's why I wanted to do this run in the first place—not to show what I can do, but to show what ordinary people are capable of when they decide to create their own path.

As I write this, I have just received a message that I may soon have running water again. We will see.

Thanks for checking in. Andrea