Day 7: I leave camp at 7:30 and today, my mind is anxious. It reminds me of the plots in all the horror movies I’ve ever seen, I start to fear improbable scenarios and I push to make miles, convinced that I need to rush if I want to make it to Nevers in 2 days. Does it matter, whether I reach the end? Isn’t it incredible enough that I dreamt something up when I was 10 years old and now at 37, I’m making it come true? And yet I push hard on the pedals, again and again. The way my muscles respond is exhilarating. A week ago I could go to 12, maybe 15 km/hour. Today I reach 20 km/hour easily. What is this magic? Even more magical, when I reach my intended campsite in Briare, my anxiety vanishes. It’s 1:30 and I want to keep going but the need to rush is gone. I make it to the next village and the one after, each time asking my body: What do you need? Do you want to keep going? And the answer is water, and food, and a resounding YES! until it’s 4:30 pm and I gently cruise to the next campsite, a cold drink and a shower.
Today: 97 km (60 miles)
Total: 368 km (229 miles)