This year started quietly too, then took another significant turn. Incredibly, yet another cross-country move — this time back. In 2017 I’d felt that my return to my home country was only temporary, and I’d been looking forward to going back to my adopted home. The circumstances finally came together in autumn.
Weather Extremes
April surprised me with a snow shower, quite unusual for the season. In May, a wind so fierce it nearly knocked me off my feet — literally.
But the most notable weather event was the summer heatwave. That year, heat records fell one after another. June and July brought temperatures I’d never experienced before. My work schedule had me running just after five in the afternoon, which was usually an excellent way to close the day — that one hour refreshed me physically and mentally.
In the second half of June, however, a heatwave arrived with temperatures of thirty-seven to thirty-eight degrees. That tested even me. The route had no shade; I ran in direct sun the entire way. Up to thirty-five, I’d always said I’d take that over minus ten — I’ve handled heat well since childhood, perhaps because I was born in summer. But that summer, something happened that had never happened before: I skipped a run because of the heat. When I got home from work and the thermometer in the shade read forty-one degrees, I stayed home. I could afford the rest day — I ran almost every day. No guilt.
The entire summer was very warm. In late July and August, I often logged thirty-two degrees at run time. I still enjoyed it, especially with a light breeze. By early summer, I always looked like I’d just come back from holiday, deeply tanned. Everyone assumed I’d been away. I hadn’t.
When Running Doesn’t Feel Right
Toward the end of summer, for only the second time in my life, running felt difficult in a way I couldn’t explain. I was short of breath, and the usual sense of well-being was missing. It had happened once before, about three years earlier. It wasn’t frequent, but it wasn’t a good feeling. I couldn’t find a reason — it wasn’t the temperature, wasn’t sleep deprivation, wasn’t anything I could point to. Age, perhaps.
The Move, and Five Thousand
In early October, the move came — again. We crossed half the continent by car, and after a few days’ forced break, I started running again on the terrain where I’d already logged half my lifetime’s runs. In late October, I reached run number five thousand. Roughly every three years, another thousand. I’d started calculating how many I might accumulate in a lifetime. I’ve always liked playing with numbers — they’ve been good company.
Personally and professionally, a complicated period was beginning. But for running, the “classic golden age” was restored: the same setting, the same routine that had become part of who I am.
The Ice Storm
Same weather patterns, same surprises. In early December, I got caught in what might have been the worst ice storm I’d ever experienced. I sheltered under a bridge, waiting for it to ease. It didn’t. I was about two kilometers from home on the return leg, so I set off and arrived thoroughly frozen and soaked.
Audiobooks
A little earlier, I’d introduced an important change. Since the early days, I’d listened to music while running — mostly electronic, techno-style, matched to my mood. It always provided a good base, good momentum. But by the end of that year, I wanted something different. Not different music — something that would fully occupy my mind while my body ran on autopilot.
The answer was audiobooks. I’d loved reading since childhood, but over the years work had left less and less time for it. I thought: what if I could combine the daily hour of running with reading? The solution: audiobooks. There were works I’d wanted to read for years but never found the time. I downloaded them onto my MP3 player and listened in sequence. Classics, light-hearted adventures, science fiction, horror, crime — everything. The first one, started in November, was Brave New World. Then came the rest: Orwell, Asimov, Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and many more. They brought a new dimension to running. I could barely wait for the next run to hear what happened next — and as I write these lines, it’s still the same. I don’t listen outside of runs. That’s the rule. The reward comes only while running. Excellent motivation, even after all these years.
A Mild Ending
The end of the year was unusually warm: around fourteen degrees on the last days, running in shorts. Christmas Day and New Year’s Day included.
2021: 315 runs / 3,154 km
Since 2002: 5,062 sessions / 53,456 km