I arrive in Mexico City earlier than I left Tokyo and the jet lag hits me hard.
I have one day to arrive and let myself drift through the city.
The next day I fly to Tijuana, where I meet Markus Weinberg. We use the day for the final preparations for the run. I get the trailer delivered, which I now assemble. A local triathlete shows us the city and then the next morning we start directly.
I start on the beach, at the shocking border wall, 2 metres away from the USA.
Leonardo, a local athlete is already waiting to run the first 15 kilometres. We take the shoulder of Highway No.1, a beautiful coastal road with spectacular views of the Pacific.
In the afternoon, after 35 kilometres, it becomes noticeable that I have practically not run for the last 7 months. My legs start to hurt. After 42 kilometres I reach Rosalito.
The first 5 minutes of the next morning are painful. I limp at first. I can hardly walk.
But eventually it works and I run the next marathon that day, but in the evening I’m in a lot of pain.
At the start the next morning, Thomas, a Swiss, is waiting for me. He lives here on the Baia Calofornia and accompanies me for the next 28 kilometres. In the afternoon, my back starts to hurt because the trailer I’m pulling behind me weighs 20 kilos. I now alternate between pulling and pushing.
Leonardo joins me again and runs 23 kilometres with me today. I pass through the town of Ensenada, where I am invited to dinner by a cyclist.
In the evening, after another 42 kilometres, at least my legs no longer hurt.
