these are the posts tagged ‘the boy’:

running the eurovelo

i mentioned on the last couple of monthly videos that the boy has been running the whole algarve coast on the weekends — an epic adventure split into 10 half-marathons. today was the last one, so he finally ran the whole region: from the margins of the guadiana river in vila real de santo antónio all the way to the lighthouse in sagres! hurray!

the eurovelo 1 (aka the atlantic coast route) is the bike path that he used to map his races since it stretches the whole algarve, but this turned out to be a poorly marked and maintained route, with many stretches coinciding with the N125 which is one of the most dangerous roads in the country. most of the time, the boy was looking at his watch and hoping that he was still on the right track. i wonder how the tourists (likely more used to the well-paved, well-marked paths of northern europe) fare on these southern paths.

despite that, it was a such a treat — what a way to get to know the region! my participation in this whole endeavor was limited to driving around and supplying water at regular intervals, but even so, it was great to have an excuse to go and see all these places we hadn’t yet visited. i’ve bookmarked many beautiful stretches in my head, and noticed that we definitely love the corners of the country the most: both our own east side with the lagoon sceneries, as well as the soft rolling hills of the west, cut short by their massive cliffs. we shall return soon, to properly explore them.

more than the running itself though, this was a feat of the boy’s tenacity. he never does a 101 list — he just sets up one big goal at a time and works consistently on it, preparing and getting it done without even bragging about it on social media. i can’t wait to see what the next adventure will bring! :)

1+1 = 13

13 years seems implausible, a whole life almost… and yet, here we are. <3

analogue wednesday #185

happy birthday, love! :)

from R4R-42, double-exposed in collaboration with chris.

favourite human

a dozen years of wiggling eyebrows at me… and counting! :)

did they tell you…?

(this story happened about a year ago, but it took some time to process.)

it started out normal enough. a small-town half-marathon that is traditionally held on easter sunday, between 11am and 2pm — an odd schedule, but the race crosses the local train tracks, and that’s one of the few gaps in which no trains go through that stretch. it’s hot for april. not that many people running, and even less cheering. i saw the boy off with my parents, and then strolled to the nearby beach for a stretch in the sun, the first proper beach day of the season.

an hour later, we made our way back and saw the first runners arrive, panting and drenched in sweat. we clapped, we waited, we cheered and waited some more… but the boy wouldn’t show up. 10 minutes after his normal finishing time, i was starting to think maybe he’d given up. he’d had a mild cold earlier that week, and though he seemed fully recovered by sunday, perhaps he wasn’t as fit as he thought.

i saw a couple of his running friends, so i asked one of them if he’d seen paulo. and he had. “did they tell you…?“, he said expectantly. turns out, he was laying on the road not looking great, around km 15. they’d taken him into hospital and the paramedics were looking for me, actually. i think my heart skipped a beat or twenty. we made our way to the emergency room at a maddening slow pace, our advance bracketed by traffic on the N125.

the boy was fine. agitated, amnesiac, dehydrated, drenched in sweat… but fine otherwise. his heart was normal, and after a while, so was the rest of him. probably the scorching sun, playing tricks. afterwards, his GPS watch told the story of a 30-minute gap, spent wandering back and forth on the side of a country road, before being driven to the hospital.

ever since then, i’ve been thinking about death and the fragility of human beings, as one does whenever things like these happen. and i understand one can’t live on a dome or in fear of the next panic, but it changes things, a bit. you’re ever slightly more careful, more attentive… and immensely grateful for every single day.