Once the shivers and nausea subsided yesterday, I fell asleep. I woke up this morning, well rested after nearly 10 hours of comatose sleep. I found out that Hans, whom we only got to pace for about 5 km, then continued his run towards Gothenburg and got there after 11 hours, having run 100 kilometres. An unbelievable feat, but I had a feeling he would make it.
To run such a surreal distance is amazing in itself, but to do such a large part of it alone is even more impressive. That's when the mental strength component really comes in, that's when all the inner demons start whispering in your ear that it would be so much easier to take the bus the rest of the way, that's when you start asking yourself why you put yourself through such an endeavour. The mind gives up before the body does, usually. And you have no one with you to use as a crutch, no friend to help you through it, no one to distract you from the doubt and pain. Well done, Hans.
This morning the sun is once again shining brightly in the sky, with no cloud in sight. The temperature is on its way up to 13 degrees, with only a light breeze cooling the air. My feet are sick of running on tarmac, and the woods are so wonderfully inviting, so I might pack my VFF and head there for a short recovery run later. Maybe, just maybe, to try and run a part of it completely barefoot. But first, the biannual change of car tires.
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