Oh the places you'll go!

I'm warning you. Words are failing me right now, and I have to use photos to convey how wonderful, how absolutely perfect this morning's run was. I loved it so much, I could write a song about it. I could buy it flowers and take it out to dinner. I could watch it while it sleeps.

But...Sweden's NOT in NATO

I left home around 10 and headed towards the city centre. As promised, the sun was shining, but the wind hadn't let up that much, so I was met with a headwind. Still, it wasn't too bad, and my mood was so good that it didn't matter. 

I ran through Kungsladugård. A part of Göteborgsvarvet goes through here (the world's biggest half-marathon, for those of you that haven't heard of it). I'm running it in May, but as I ran the streets that get worn down by almost 60.000 running shoes every year, it seemed like a lifetime away.

I pressed on further towards Röda Sten and the river. Ferry boats, factories and the smell of tar were unmistakable signs that I was close to Gothenburg's port, but I could turn my gaze towards the west and the open sea, a much better sight.

Further on, the cycle path that I had been following disappeared among the expensive-looking villas of Käringberget and Långedrag. Here and there, a tall pine tree or stone cliff were visible among the houses. Not that there was any monotony; every house was a different style, each beautiful in its own way.

I was almost at Saltholmen when I noticed the cycle path sign pointing south. That's where the adventure started, that's where I was entering an unknown territory. I followed the signs, but there was some cognitive dissonance between the memory I had in my head from the map I had studied before I left, and what the signs pointed to. I wanted to follow the coastline, but the signs wanted to take me through neighbourhoods. So I ignored them.

This was one of my favourite parts. Hinsholmen marina was like a ghost town, with seemingly abandoned boats covered in tarpaulin. The road that led through it came to a sudden stop. Only the sea lay beyond. At that moment, I wanted to sit there on a stone and just stare at the sea for hours, the sun warming my face. It felt like the end of the world. 

Luckily it wasn't. A path continued along the seaside towards Fiskebäck, through the woods. I climbed up a steepish slope and, as I reached the top, I was rewarded with a glimpse of the sparkling sea among the trees. It was downhill all the way to the water.

I was back in civilisation. And got lost almost immediately. Again, it was a matter of signs pointing in a direction I didn't want to go, so I asked a kind man which way Näset was. He gave me the right answer. How I knew it was the right answer? Because it meant I would be running by the sea once more.

My legs were not complaining, unlike my stomach. I wanted to get home now, and my head was so filled with all the wonderful new memories that I was content. I found my bearings and soldiered on, past even more villas, joggers and dog walkers. I was running in familiar surroundings. It had been exciting to see new places, and what better way to see them than on my own two feet?

25 km was the grand total of today. I will be running there again.