2026-06-14 Sunday
On June 14, 2026, I woke up in my tent in Smygehamn.
The day before, I had run from Malmö to Smygehamn, 47.5 kilometres with a pack on my back. Maybe my body should have felt worse than it did. My legs were a little stiff, absolutely, but nothing too bad. The toe that had developed a blister the day before was taped, and it actually felt good. The Leuko tape across my shoulders had done its job and protected me from chafing from the backpack.
I had slept really well, even though I had woken up a few times during the night. It was the first night in my new tent, and it passed the test with flying colours. An ultralight solo tent weighing 460 grams, where the inner and outer tent are connected, and where the inner space was still roomy enough for me to bring the backpack inside next to my sleeping pad. It felt safe. Simple. Smart.
And then there was the sound.
The sea breaking outside. The waves. The fresh air. That particular feeling of waking up in a tent, when your body is still warm inside the sleeping bag and the natural world is already awake. The sounds of nature, unfiltered.
It was a good start.
Today’s stage was really a transport day. I was going from Smygehamn back home to Malmö, via Anderslöv, Svedala and Oxie. The goal was simple: home. Nothing more complicated than that.
I ate the small breakfast I had. A few cinnamon rolls and water that I had filled up from the nearby toilet. It was ordinary tap water, fresh and cold after the night outdoors. I brushed my teeth and made myself as fresh as one can get in a public toilet by a car park. Then I packed up the tent, made sure my phone was charged and that the power bank was working as it should.
Just after seven, I left Smygehuk.
The first kilometres were the way they often are. The body is not quite awake, the legs feel a little stiff, and the backpack is there again with its roughly ten kilos. It was quite cold and fresh, but dry. The roads were empty. It was Sunday morning, and not many people were awake.
It was a little fiddly to find the right way through Smygehamn and out onto the country road towards Anderslöv, but after that it was mostly transport running. Kilometre after kilometre. Not much drama, just forward.
At the same time, the views were there all along. The open landscape. The fields. The light.
On the way towards Anderslöv, I took a few photos. It became one of those reminders that even a transport section can carry something beautiful, if you just have time to see it.
In Anderslöv, I ran into Matnära. I bought a ProPud to get some protein after most of my energy intake had consisted of carbohydrates. I also bought a bag of small cinnamon rolls. They turned out to be perfect little bites to eat along the way. Easy to get down, just the right size and easy to carry.
I stood by a park bench in the square, drank the ProPud and opened the cinnamon rolls. Then the backpack went back on again.
The stretch towards Svedala was hillier than I had expected. I do not know how many metres of elevation it involved, but the landscape rolled in a way that could be felt in the legs. There were large fields around me. In one place there was a field, I think it was barley, full of poppies.
It was very beautiful.
Closer to Svedala, I ran past an incredibly beautiful windmill. The field below it was full of poppies and cornflowers. It became one of the clearest images of the day: an old windmill, flowers in red and blue, and me with a backpack and tired legs in the middle of it all.
The pace was not fast that day. It was somewhere between seven and eight minutes per kilometre. The average speed ended up at around eight kilometres per hour when including stops, photography and breaks. But my body still responded well. My knees felt a little swollen, both of them, but not in a way that worried me. More like load. As if the body was signalling that it had worked hard, but was still with me.
Between Anderslöv and Svedala I also ran several kilometres on a gravel road. There I caught sight of some people training horses on a road nearby. They were galloping.
There is something special about seeing horses gallop. The power. The movement. The lightness in something that is actually so strong. It became a small scene in the middle of the day, a pause for the eyes even though the legs kept moving forward.
In Svedala, I ran to Ica Maxi by the station and took a longer break. I bought an Arla protein drink with 29 grams of protein, a Risifrutti and a couple of bananas. I ate one banana and the Risifrutti and drank the protein drink before heading on towards Oxie.
From there, the day got tougher.
Between Svedala and Oxie there was a strong headwind. It had been blowing against me on several stretches earlier too, but here it became more noticeable. On top of that, it was a country road, a larger road with faster traffic. I was beginning to get tired, and when the cars did not always move out properly but passed at high speed, it became uncomfortable.
There was a sense of worry there. Not panic, but a clear awareness of risk. When you are tired, it is easier to take a wrong step. And on a road like that, there is not much margin.
I slowed down. Walked some sections. Tried to stay just beside the asphalt when I could, even though the flat asphalt was actually more comfortable for my legs. It became a pure transport section, but one that required focus.
When I reached Oxie, it felt different. There was not that far left to go home.
I went into ICA Nära and bought an ice cream and a Red Bull. Mostly to perk myself up. To get something cold, something sweet, something that could give my head a little extra speed.
Then I changed the music in my headphones to techno.
It created a shift. Not dramatic, but clear. Now I no longer needed to save anything. The energy I had left would be enough to get me home. The water would be enough to get me home. All I had to do was let the techno pound away and help my legs move.
I walked a bit through Oxie while drinking the Red Bull and eating the ice cream. Then I started running again. Of course, there was an uphill stretch towards Kungshögarna, but now I was set on making it all the way in. I kept much more of a running pace during the final stretch than I might have expected earlier in the day.
When I came in towards Malmö, I recognised myself. I partly ran the same route that I had taken out of Malmö the day before, only with a small variation. Then came the familiar paths and roads. Places where I had run many times before.
It felt like home. Like my own ground.
I got home around two o’clock. In total, I had been out for about seven hours, including all the stops, and the stage ended up at 42 kilometres.
The first thing I did was put the bag down and take a proper shower. After many hours of sweat, dust, wind, road and pack, it felt almost unreal. I removed the Leuko tape from my shoulders and let my body understand that it was home again.
But the day did not quite end there.
I had also been notified that the package from Craft had arrived at the pickup point. It was the gear I had received through sponsorship for the big running adventure in July. So after the shower, I went and picked up the box.
It became a nice contrast. First two days on the roads with a tent, backpack and testing all the practical things. Then home again, with a package full of new equipment pointing ahead towards what is waiting. A new backpack, clothes, shoes and other things. The whole package weighed 4.2 kilos, which almost says something in itself: Craft’s clothes really are ultralight.
This two-day test has given me a lot.
I have been reminded how incredibly important it is that the backpack sits well on the back. That it does not bounce. When I started running the day before, I had an extra backpack on my stomach with food supplies, and it kept hitting my stomach the whole time unless I held it. It was incredibly annoying and not something I want to experience again.
The new backpack from Craft is 35 litres and holds 11 litres more than the one I ran with now. It looks large when I look at it, but I think it will work very well. I will be able to fit more supplies, even fresh bread and things like that, which will make life on the road a little easier.
I also take with me the importance of eating all the time. Refuelling with energy. Refuelling with fluids. Taking care of my feet. Greasing them. Taping where needed. Listening to the body before something becomes a real problem.
But above all, I take the goal image with me.
I believe having a clear goal image is incredibly important in order to actually reach a goal. Preferably a simple goal image. One that is easy to understand and cannot be misinterpreted.
This day, the goal image was: home.
This summer, the goal image is bigger, but in a way just as simple. I am going to run from Gothenburg to Stockholm along the Göta Canal. The road there may take many different forms. It will be hard. It will almost certainly hurt. There will be days with headwind, tired legs, chafing, hunger and doubt.
But after these two days, I feel something important.
It will work.
It will be difficult.
But it will work.
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