The Wharf of Dreams

With the war raging on in Iran and Ali Khamenei confirmed dead, I woke long before dawn, ate a roll with Austrian blueberry marmalade while trying to make sense of the news, before deciding that running would be a better use of my time than doomscrolling.

Heading out for 16k across town in the mist, I followed the river upstream to the open shipyard where volunteers and private individuals work on various cultural heritage boat projects – a place informally known as “Drömmarnas kaj“.

Uplifted by Skrotnisse-energy in a world otherwise intent on destroying things, I returned home to pick up the boys and take the bus out to Åby Arenastad for 1,000 meters in the pool – all three of us. As the day wore on, the mist gave way to the first spring sunshine but, sadly, the boys were immune to all further outdoor persuasion attempts. Instead, I had to limit myself to a 5k tempo run along the bike paths of Kålltorp.

With just a week left until the Lago Maggiore half marathon, Anna has sadly been forced to withdraw due to her injury. For my part, I am still hoping to chase down my long-standing dream of finishing in under 1 hour and 35 minutes.