About six weeks before departing the US, I started to have real anxiety about leaving. That’s probably natural, and one thing I would do to redirect that feeling was research things to do, places to see, possible routes to take. The improvisational spirit of the trip be damned - I needed to organize. Now, I made very few actually plans during these fits of scheduling; it calmed me down just to explore and wonder about the possibilities. But, one thing I did book was the Bilbao Night Run Fest 21K.

Those of you who know me well know that I find community in running. It’s been a major part of my life since adolescence, and I’m proud to say that I’ve run 13 marathons in my life, most of them with Dreamfar, an organization near and dear to my heart. Running with Dreamfar means running with young people as their mentor. You don’t run your own race - you run theirs. You support others to the start line, then across the finish line. Unlike many others who do Dreamfar with me, I don’t tend to have much of a running life outside of the program. I love to run, but I never went out of my way to sign up for races to do on my own. The major exceptions to this were the 2017 Boston Marathon (which I ran in support of Dreamfar, go figure), the 2019 New York City Marathon (which I ran in support of Sandy Hook Promise and Ben’s Lighthouse, in honor of my friend Ben Wheeler), and the 2023 Philadelphia Marathon (which I ran because some other Dreamfar folks invited me).

I’m not great at running on my own. I am very good at making tight plans and then abandoning them at the sound of the starter’s pistol. My first mile in the NYC Marathon was under 7 minutes, and trust me, I am not that guy. So, as I always do, I set out to run the Bilbao 21K (a half marathon) at a leisurely pace, promising myself I would enjoy every second I could. This race was different from multiple perspectives. First, it was at night. I am an early bird runner. I like to run with nothing but coffee and gross electrolyte goo in my stomach. I like to cross the finish line and then have a whole day to pig out on well-earned junk food. Second, I was severely under-trained. Before this 21K, the last time I had run more than 10 miles in a single stretch, according to Strava, was April 19, 2025, for the Newport Marathon with Dreamfar - a year and a half ago. Since that time, my longest run was 8 miles, which I did just a handful of times. Third, I was in Spain, making this my first ever distance race overseas.

With 27,000 runners, this race was absolutely packed, and I was grateful for my back-of-the-pack starting corral (wave 6 out of 8). But I’m not sure that slow running is really much of a thing here, as everyone in my wave was fit and took off like a shot. Plus, the fanfare was absolutely out of this world; with every wave start, flames shot into the air, fireworks exploded, and a live metal band thrashed away on the nearby stage. Even with all of this, I ran my race, keeping my eyes on the beautiful surroundings as the sun set and not paying attention at all to my pace or the thousands of runners whizzing by me. That is, until I hit mile 9, when I realized that I felt good. I felt really, really good, and some dormant competitive spark awoke in me. With some quick math after a glance at my watch, I realized that I could finish in under two hours, a milestone accomplishment for many runners, with a substantial push over the last four miles and change. I sped up, bringing my ~9:00 per mile pace down to under 8:30. I started to pass a lot of people, and the constant presence of yelling spectators (clearly fueled by alcohol - a night run will do that a bit more easily than an early morning run) and several stages with live music pushed me to keep going, keep accelerating, keep focused.

Here a few pictures I managed to take, including before-and-after selfies.

Night Run Mid-Race Crowds

Bilbao Night Run Finisher The Finisher’s Area

befandaft Before and After

I finished at a cool 1 hour, 58 minutes, and 11 seconds, and I have the city of Bilbao to thank. This city is a marvel. It’s the first place I’ve been to that I truly feel like everyone should visit. It’s gorgeous, lively, artsy, and friendly. It has tons of museums, including the massive and incredibly impressive Guggenheim, a museum that requires more than a day to see all of. It’s diverse and clearly prioritizes outdoor green space, with parks that run along the river and dot the hills. It sits on the Bay of Biscay, and it has something to offer everyone. I think it’s my favorite city I’ve visited so far (even though it’s also the city that’s objectively brought me the most pain, as my legs are pretty darn sore following the race).

Bilbao Park

Guggenheim Side View

After a few more days here, I’m off to the north of France to do a farm stay in Finistère, a town close to Brest on the Channel. I don’t know exactly what to expect from this part of the journey, but I’m eager to have some manual work to do, a welcome change that I hope will give me new perspectives, fresh air, and a unique view of a different way of life.

Until next time,

Ethan