Nice name, but where is gauting.

Yes, I did. I have completed my 35th run. And, yes, it hurt.

Since my wife had threatened me with a romantic weekend in the mountains, I had to come up with something, otherwise my long runs wouldn't have been possible.

Thus it fitted itself completely favorably that on Thursday my work went closed on the Wies'n. Since I canceled this year all my Wiesn Besäufnisse, I pinched also here. But that meant I had a free afternoon.

So I took my running clothes to work and took the S-Bahn directly to Feldafing at the Starnberger See, from there I should go back home. The route from Starnberg to Munich, I had already walked twice now, is approx. 30 km. Since it was supposed to be a little longer this time, I simply took the S-Bahn two stations further. On the cycle track I wanted then first back to Starnberg. Then from there on familiar path back to home base.

Nice name, but where is gauting.

But now there is no bike path from Feldafing to Starnberg, at least none worthy of the name. So I had to drive along the road, first to Possenhofen and then via Niederpöcking on to Starnberg. Accordingly fast I ran the "road sections", well, I'm still fresh. In Starnberg, there were already 8 km on the tachometer,

– hm, maybe a little far out after all-.

I followed the signposting of the cycle path to Gauting. But there must be several variations of the way to Gauting, because I didn't end up on the known way along the river Würm but somewhere else. "It doesn't matter" I thought, the main thing is to get to Gauting, and a bit of variety is not bad. For example, the way led me also over the golf course "Gut Rieden.

Accurately mowed green to the right and left. The impulse to run barefoot over the green I quickly suppressed again , somehow I was a little uncomfortable there to run through the facility, and the balls whiz through the air ..

-If I get a golf ball to the brain, I'll knock the diamonds out of your silly pants-.

So I stepped up a gear, and looked to get back into the protective forest.

The way led me completely alone through the grove, until I stood again at a road. From here it went again along the road, well super. The next village I come to is "Königswiesen". Nice name, but where is Gauting? At least Königswiesen belongs to the municipality of Gauting, so I can't be completely wrong. I follow again a cycle track, which leads me directly into a dense fir forest. Suddenly the way is closed because of tree felling works. So I strike me into the undergrowth. Try somehow to keep the direction. Over a narrow path I reach a village, presumably Gauting. I ask an elderly pedestrian where I have landed. Without answering she asks where I come from. Is the answer depending on my starting point? I say truthfully "Feldafing" whereupon I only get a shake of the head. "Ja mei, wo wollns denn hi" (Yes, where do you want to go?)? After Pasing I answer shyly. "Yes my, here we are totally wrong, we are here in Gauting"

OK, the answer is enough for me, I leave the woman standing puzzled and try to make my way towards the perceived center of the village, from there I know my way around again. In the meantime 19km are on the clock. From Gauting it is now another 20km home. Uiuiui, this is really going to be a long round now. Well, maybe I'll get picked up in Pasing or something. I move on in the direction of Pasing. Time to test a gel. "Fruit Gel (Red Fruit Punch)" from Powerbar.


The stuff is so sweet that it makes me spontaneously retch. Quickly I rinse the paste down with a good gulp from the Camelbak. So, a PowerGel does not come in two weeks to the start, that much is sure.

From km 25 on, I start to wonder if my plan is not a bit too ambitious, after all, only four days ago I completed a brisk march around the Tegernsee, and yesterday I already ran another 9km.

At km 28 I question the whole running, but there I am not the first who comes in this condition on this thought.

At km 29 I only think about km 30. From now on every step is a victory. Never before have I run further. I enjoy the feeling.

At km31, the euphoria has faded away. I am worried about the condition of my knees. In Pasing I have to go through an underpass, the slight slope makes my knees wobble worryingly, I'm about to blow out my patella. Well, if the joint gets broken, I can glue it back together with the last PowerBar gel, that will surely hold it.

From km 32 I consider having my wife pick me up, but at km 33 I remember that it's parents' evening at school today, and I'm already too late. From km 34 I go through possible alternative cab drivers, but they are all sitting at the Wiesn, and are certainly not fit to drive now.

At km35 comes the redemption in the form of a bus stop of line 162 to Moossacher station. From there it's only two subway stops to the shower. I can not resist the temptation and wait for the bus. It would be now still good 6-7 km to home, but MT I want to run only in two weeks. Today the 35 km in 3:32h should be enough for me.

While I wait for the bus I empty my Camelbak. If I had known how long the bus takes to get to the station, I might have used the last water a little better. The bus gondolas for half an hour through parts of the city that were completely unknown to me until then.

-I want to go home, I am thirsty-

The Camelbak gives nothing more, no matter how hard I suck on the mouthpiece, it only rattles.

I am so exhausted, I can't even sweat anymore. Why do my fingers actually tingle so? Hyperventilate I about?

After what feels like an eternity I finally arrive at the Moossacher S-Bahn station. After the half-hour bus ride, my legs have changed from high-performance sports equipment to wobbly rubber hoses. The escalator to the subway is, of course, going in the wrong direction again.

-could someone help me down the stairs here?-

Finally at home, I take the non-alcoholic wheat beer straight into the shower with me. In two weeks I'll probably put another stool in the shower.

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