In case you didn’t know it already, my name is Jyri, but I also go by George, and I’m the dude behind this LOTR channel. I set up it up in July, 2021, so almost 4 years ago, and primarily for the purpose of sharing my bicycle and camino walking tour adventures, which have mainly been in Portugal and Finland, where I currently reside. A second reason is that I wanted it to act as a kind of dynamic business card, to showcase my own active lifestyle with my current and prospective, future coaching clients. Basically, I just wanted to build some initial trust and make connections with like-minded people via the concept of ‘proof of work’. I wanted to show that I myself was actually doing what I preach.
However, things are now about to change significantly! Enjoy this LIFE ON THE RUN update video, as I go over my plans in more detail about, while enjoying the scenery from not only some of my previous adventures, but also from my local forest trails.
After the unexpected struggles and extreme exhaustion that I’d experienced the previous day, in complete contrast, I departed Monchique very early at 4.15am with a wonderful sense of wellbeing. It’s truly amazing how the body and mind can recover so much in the space of just 12 hours. It felt like I was floating up the trail and before I knew it, I’d already reached the summit of Mount Fóía just as the rising sun’s rays were piercing the skyline on the horizon.
After a short period of reflection, I commenced the descent down the western side, meandering along the ridgelines as low clouds passed by in the adjoining valleys below. Save for the sounds of dried leaves occasionally moving across the trail to the tune of the fresh, but gentle morning breeze, all was silent. The faint background hum of the wind turbines, standing tall in formation along my path, like a company of soldiers dressed in white uniforms, were the only other sounds that I could detect as I steadily moved forward in an almost trance-like state.
Dried leaves stir gently, to a faint whisper and hum. A ghost passes by.
‘Ghost in the Machine’ by Jyri Manninen
With this stage being over 50km long, it was inevitable that I’d have to face the heat of the day for many hours; and with the landscapes now opening up, there was very little respite offered by shaded areas, which were few and far between. In contrast to my folly the day before, I now made sure that I had plenty of water; and despite the sun bearing down strongly on me for most of the afternoon, I was able to make very solid progress, and with relatively little effort.
After some 10 hours of walking, I arrived at Bensafrim, where I had my main, longer pitstop of the day. With only about 6km remaining, I could have quite easily just kept rolling on. However, given the great progress I’d made so far this day, and how great I still felt, I decided that I had more than earned a good break. Truth be told, the allure of a few ice-cold beers and coke was simply too much to turn down! I could now also put the brakes on a bit, and just focus on enjoying the little of what remained before arriving at Barão de São João, the destination for today’s stage, which would actually end up being my longest on this Via Algarviana camino.
As I gradually rehydrated and replenished my body on the verandah of Casa do João, I also allowed myself the small mental luxury of knowing and accepting that tomorrow I would finally see this challenge to its conclusion. Save for breaking a leg, or some other such catastrophic incident ruining the party, in less than 24 hours I would be standing by the Atlantic Ocean at Cabo de São Vicente.
I was filled with bravado, as I departed Silves, and I was looking forward to a relatively short and easy stage of 32km to Monchique. However, the rookie mistake of not considering where I would next have access to water, added to my lack of sleep over the past 24 hours, was going to very abruptly slap that sense of invincibility out of me within just a matter of hours.
The day’s stage had started well enough as I crossed over Monte Branco to have the Castelo de Silves fade away on the horizon. But after just 1.5 hours, my energy levels had suddenly dropped as the heat of the day ramped up very quickly, even though it was only about 10am. I was able to keep a steady pace as I negotiated the Serra de Silves, but as I descended down on its northern side, I was already approaching my limits; and the intense glare from white gravel road was almost unbearable.
Now, to cut a potentially long story short, as I started my climb up Picota at around the 22km mark, I was well beyond my limits of comfort. Truth be told, I’ve never, even in any extreme endurance competition, been this close to passing out from pure exhaustion and a lack of fluids, as I had in that moment. I actually started to worry whether I was even going to be able to complete the stage before sunset.
Very fortunately, after an hour or so of climbing, I reached a small village, where I found a man working on a car in the front yard of his cottage. At first, he seemed quite taken-a-back as I interrupted his moment of mechanical zen by requesting water. However, after I had explained, in my very shitty Portuguese, what I was doing, he smiled widely and graciously offered me all the ice-cold water I could drink and fill my water bottles with.
As I closed in on Picota, just some 30 minutes later, I was well back on the way to the land of the living; and as I summited, with majestic views over almost the entire expanse of the Algarve, I felt my soul rise, in a sense, detaching itself from my physical body. I had transcended extreme fatigue, and was now being rewarded with an extreme shot of endorphins!
Still I saw your light,
as I wallowed in despair.
High, my soul will rise.
‘Soulrise’ by Jyri Manninen
In that moment, the accompanying mental and spiritual clarity was also at a level I’d only ever experienced a few times in my life, the last time being some 11 years ago, as I stood in solitude in the sands of the Moroccan Sahara Desert, just outside of our camp, on the penultimate evening of the Marathon des Sables.
Upon arrival in Monchique, I still had enough sunlight to explore the town a little. However, all the while, I couldn’t escape thinking about the following day’s stage. At the start of this day, I had flippantly remarked at how easily 32km would go. Well, what was that now going to mean for tomorrow with over 50km on my plate?
run for your life 