Day 57 - July 5th: Running on Empty

Grisignano di Zocco to Treviso: 32.1 miles / 1,569 total

Yesterday’s early arrival in Grisignano di Zocco at 3 PM gave me a rare hour to catch up on life tasks that continue whether I’m running or not. After that, and the usual post-run recovery dance, Christina found a local spot—Da Pasqualino & Cinzia Mare & Pizza—that looked like a set from The Sopranos. We arrived right at 7 PM when they opened. In the front room sat six older Italian men with cigars and drinks—one of them could’ve been Tony. Seafood and pizza were the main draws. After splitting a fresh salad, Christina ordered linguine with white clam sauce—served with a twist of lemon and fish roe. I went with the tuna and a side of broccolini. A wonderful meal. So good, in fact, that I ordered my own linguine with white clam sauce for dessert. Well, that—and the gelato we had afterward.

This morning brought a small but welcome change: for the first time in recent memory, the temperature was in the low 90s instead of hovering near triple digits. There were also warnings for severe thunderstorms. A change of pace, either way, felt overdue. It also meant I could bring Jax off the bench and onto the field—something he’s been itching for every morning.

I taped up my blisters and ran a morning systems check. Cautiously optimistic. The blisters seemed slightly improved, and no new issues had popped up. My recon showed a potential rails-to-trails section and maybe some food options, but just in case, I packed extra calories and water for both of us. A few weeks back, I picked up a pop-up water bowl for Jax at a pet store. Before that, he’d either drink from a fountain or sit with his mouth open so I could pass water to him from my mouth from my bottle—effective, but not enough for how much he really needs. The collapsible bowl fits easily in my pack and lets us fill up at restaurants or fountains without issue.

We left our hotel at 6:20 AM with no breakfast. The air felt cooler as we jogged through a quiet, still Grisignano di Zocco. A sleepy Saturday. We circled a roundabout—Europe’s favorite road feature—and headed onto a small road with a cycle lane. After 3 kilometers we reached Poiana di Granfion and spotted the sign for the bike/pedestrian path. Wide open, flat valley floor: vineyards on the right, cornfields and mountains to the north on the other side of which lay Switzerland and Liechtenstein.

I’m running 2:30 of every kilometer. As I eased into the rhythm, I realized I was struggling to find energy. In endurance events, there are always waves—highs and lows—and experience has taught me that if I ride out a low, another wave eventually comes to lift me. So I waited patiently and with confidence.

Jax exploded with joy. After being cooped up for so long, he surged forward with pure energy whenever I said “free!” then circling back. The path had little arms reaching into nearby villages, and we saw a steady trickle of locals walking, jogging, and cycling.

Around 25 km in, I met Jon and Hank—students from the Netherlands on their second big cycling trip, panniers full and spirits high. We chatted for a bit.

(Side note: it reminded me of myself back when my friends and I used to pick random spots to bike to—just like Jon and Hank.)

The path took us through Piazzola sul Brenta, and in Campo San Martino, after 15 km, we found a bar. Two cappuccinos, two croissants, and two bowlfuls of water for Jax.

Back on the trail, the sun was rising and the heat started to build. Amazingly, the path was almost fully canopied by trees, sparing us from the direct sun. Still, my energy remained low. I was eating and hydrating, but it wasn’t clicking. We passed Camposampiero, and Christina called to say she was en route to pick up Jax. We met at Piombino Dese, about 31 km into the day. The humidity was high, the clouds were rolling in, and he was ready to exit stage right. Christina asked if I was okay. I nodded, knowing I just needed to keep moving.

Alone again, I started asking why I felt so drained. The blisters were healing. No new injuries. Trail conditions were solid. I texted Lisa, and she said what I hadn’t wanted to admit: the long stretch of extreme heat had finally caught up with me. Since leaving Arles, I’ve averaged 50 km per day through brutal temperatures. Poor sleep has compounded the fatigue. It’s a cycle—tired from the day, can’t sleep well, repeat. Time to break it. Lisa suggested a day off. It made sense.

I called Christina and we locked it in—rest day in Treviso.

I kept moving through Silvelle and into Broghera, where the clouds finally gave way. Thunder cracked, lightning flashed, and a torrential downpour followed. The trail emptied instantly. Under the forest canopy, I was somewhat protected, but it still felt dicey with all the lightning. Not much choice but to keep going.

The path continued all the way to Treviso. Incredibly, 47 of the day’s 52 kilometers were on the same rails-to-trails route, shaded almost the entire time. The rain stopped just as I arrived in the city, where Christina and Jax were waiting in front of the B&B Hotel. I was soaked, spent, and so happy to see them.

Time to regroup.

It is said that Treviso is where tiramisu was invented. I know what I’m having for dessert tonight.

Thanks for following along.

Cheers,

David.