Running on a dirt road, getting attacked by swarms of bugs, crossing a river via Russian ferry, and getting assigned a police attaché: now this is really starting to feel like we’re running around the world.

Traveling across Europe, with its smooth roads, (somewhat) familiar languages, and comfortable hotel rooms avec douche made it hard to really feel like we were going to be running around the world. Now, having spent three days in Belarus, followed by nearly a week in Russia, it is starting to sink in that this thing is for real.

Yesterday we hit our first section of unpaved road for running, and Brynn was the lucky runner from our team who took the worst of it, running mostly on sand and dirt for her 10 miles. Along with the cloud of dust being kicked up from the passing cars, brynn also got to inhale the swarms of large deer flies and other insects that were somehow attracted to her (not sure if it was the sweaty body or stylish BPR running gear that they found so appealing). Luckily, we had been talking earlier about the need for more protein in our diet.

Today we arrived in a small town called Igra, which seemed to mostly be a collection of the ubiquitous, communist-era, run-down, concrete block apartment buildings. When we arrived at our “hotel”, we all thought we were in the wrong place (including our interpreters and drivers) because we could see clothes hanging from various rooms and cats roaming on the inside window sills. Who knew we would have a home-stay on this trip? We eventually found out that the ground floor was a hostel, and the place turned out to be quaint, with warm water in the shared bathroom and even a kettle for boiling water in the room.

The most fun part of the evening was dinner. We ate in a restaurant that certainly could have doubled for a discotheque, with a half-circle bar at one end of the big open room with high ceilings. We were a bit concerned that a police officer had followed us on our walk to dinner and was parked in a chair out front. We were then reassured by our interpreter that the officer was just there to protect us and would be with us the entire evening (including sleeping outside of our hotel). We weren’t sure how to read that one – happy to have the protection, but also concerned that the local authorities felt it was necessary. One shot of vodka and a few dumplings took our mind off it.

As much as we were enjoying our meal, we couldn’t help but notice the group of local middle-aged Russians quickly making their way through bottles of vodka, laughing and talking loudly. We were not surprised to see them jump out of their chairs at a certain point to start dancing. They waved us up to join them, and so we obliged with a few of our favorite moves before heading back to get some much needed rest.