Run or Die by Kilian Jornet

Author:Kilian, Jornet [Kilian, Jornet]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781937716356
Publisher: VeloPress
Published: 2013-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

DAY 3

The alarm rings at 5:50 a.m.

What on earth am I doing here? Why didn’t I go for a “normal” run rather than torturing my body like this?

As these thoughts go around my head, I try to get out of bed. I’m still fine. I don’t feel any pain, I think, but the moment I start pressing on my knee to get out of bed, I feel a stab of pain under a ligament. It’s nothing to worry about.

I get up, but when I stand up straight, my thigh muscles don’t respond. I quickly sit back down on the side of the bed so that I don’t fall. I look at the clock: 5:55 a.m. I have no time to lose. I get dressed slowly and carefully, trying not to move my legs. It’s like dressing a dummy, a stone statue, even though I am the statue being dressed.

It’s 6 a.m. I can’t spend any more time feeling sorry for myself. I force myself to stand up. If I keep my legs straight and don’t bend my knees, I can walk without my thigh muscles giving out. I feel as though I could fall to the ground at any moment, but I leave the bedroom. Joan, Thierry, and Sònia are waiting outside. I manage a smile to hide my distress. My mouth looks calm and confident, but when I look at my colleagues’ faces, I know my dark, sunken eyes must show my pain and tiredness.

It’s cold outside. When I open the door, the river of thick mist flowing between the valleys rushes into the shelter. I’m not sure if it’s the rain that fell during the night or the early morning frost or the drizzly mist, but the fields have turned into marshland, and given the state of my feet, it isn’t a good idea to spend 15 or 16 hours with them underwater.

The first steps I take are terrible. I shut my eyes at each step and monitor my breathing with every movement I make. I take small, slow steps and advance almost imperceptibly, like an injured bird that is unable to fly yet refuses to come to a halt and drags itself along, stubbornly trying to continue on its journey. I cover very little distance in a minute, and each step sends a violent pain through my body. When I put my foot on the ground, I feel the liquid in the blisters on my toes stinging and I grit my teeth. Small stabbing pains spread from my knees to my hamstrings and even as far as my hip.

I stop gritting my teeth and close my eyes, relaxing my face muscles in an attempt to fly to a world where pain doesn’t exist. My thoughts carry me to distant beaches, hot, seaside days when all I have to do is sleep under a palm tree and listen to the waves that gently lap over my feet. The water is warm and cures my blisters. …

It’s hopeless. The sound of the waves becomes rougher, colder, and gloomier.

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