Aug 22, 2026 — B2B Day 1. 33km. HR 151. The engine was humming, end to end.
A ribbon of stone through a sea of purple, heather leaning in like it knows something — that this body has been here before, that tired legs still remember the way.
The mountain holds its shape against the blue, indifferent and patient, the way mountains are when you’ve still got miles to go.
Fern and granite, shadow and sun, the valley dropping left toward the trees, and up there somewhere the summit waiting like it always waits.
This is what five hours looks like from the inside — not a finish line but a path that keeps offering itself,
stone by stone, climb by climb, the engine finding its rhythm somewhere between the heather and the sky.
Madeira is a long way off. But the mountain doesn’t care about October. It just wants to know if you’ll keep going.
You will.
Inspired by Robert Frost