Bonk.
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Bonk.

How does it feel? Your legs are listening but the won’t obey. They can’t. I am trying to solve a puzzle in my head to surpress the pain, but to no avail. My. thighs feels like they are made of concrete. Not in a good way, as in strong and powerful. Just dead mass. Dead weight.

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Osl-Stckhlm
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Osl-Stckhlm

Sweden in April. Out in the woods, in a little cottage, en röd stuga as the swedes call it. Waking up early. The sound of a sleeping house, a dog barking, muted, on the next farm and a few optimistic birds chirping is the only contentum.

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