The evening of June 13th, the team stayed in a hyper modern hotel in the middle of Hamburg, Germany. We finished running around 9 PM and arrived at the hotel close to 11 PM. I was tired and, for the first time since arriving at Lake Placid, I had no roommate – so, no one to consult on all things German and hyper modern. Initially, I was confused as to which of the gadgets/appliances was actually the toilet, but I think I figured it out. I hope I figured it out. I really, really hope I figured it out.

European traffic doesn't quite scare me, but it does (ahem) concern me. Call me highly concerned about European driving habits. Europeans are accustomed to pushing tiny cars very fast on very narrow roads with no shoulders. While I'm not a fan of SUVs, they do give you a lot of loud, rumbly warning as they approach. The average German car sneaks up silently and passes within inches before you have time to think “Oh crap, I'm about to become weinershnitzel.”

Fortunately, my younger, bolder teammates have no problem with fear of becoming weinershnitzel, so they happily trot through traffic and I run with the cows.

The countryside outside of Hamburg was a lovely respite. Berlin, of course, was a different matter. On June 15th, my team started about 17 miles outside of Berlin; Heiko (from Yellow Team) joined us, so he could grab the baton from me after my leg and run triumphantly into Potsdamer Platz, shouting happy things in German about the joys of running and safe drinking water. The afternoon of the 15th was HOT (about +30°C, which was a huge jump from the +15°C of the day before), so Heiko kindly split the leg with me. I started sweating copiously after three steps and continued to sweat long after I stopped running. I'm certain I frightened everyone I encountered on the sidewalks of Berlin. I was drenched with sweat, mumbling in English, and swinging a stick. I'm sure Germans everywhere breathed a sigh of relief when Heiko took over from me and started running.

The team spent the night in Leipzig and then piled in the car the morning of the 16th to drive to Prague. After four days of hard running, my team finally had the day off. Prague was a fabulous place to spend a lazy day. The city is a colorful jumble of the 21st and 14th centuries: a billboard advertising a Spiderman movie sits next to a huge golden Romanesque dome, street vendors hawk paintings and jewelry on an ancient stone bridge protected by scowling saints and surprised kings, a huge and beautiful clock in the oldest part of Prague solemnly marks the hours, as it has for centuries, long-haired teenagers in period costume fight with broadswords, while tourists in bad polyester cheer. I snapped a load of pictures, trying to capture the contradictions of this pastel and gold city. I wasn't wholly successful; upon review, I seemed to have favored blurry shots of building corners. And roofs. Lots of roofs. Good thing I'm not paid to be an artist!

A rest day was great. Better than great. I feel almost human again – I showered and shampooed and brushed and lathered and spritzed, ate regular meals at regular times, wore real clothes for the first time in a week, did touristy things. Now back to work. My team starts the dreaded Graveyard Shift (9 PM to 3 AM) the evening of the 17th. The last time I worked weird, late-night hours, I was in graduate school. I discovered that I'm not at my best at that time of night; I worked with polymers, but only by accident. So, I'm a little apprehensive!