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phone interview with a reporter named Meghan M. Hicks from Amer-
ica's Snowshoe magazine. I've just been sent a copy. I told Meghan
that while I travelled at a pace that allowed me to experience the
towns through which I run, getting to see, feel, smell, and be a part of
everyday life, I was also experiencing that which extends beyond my
personal experience. I said, 'I want to inspire. I want others to do big
things because they see me doing something I've dreamt about. Most
importantly, though, this is more than an athletic feat. I want people
to support the Red Cross and its worldwide efforts. That's what this is
really about.'
July 20
The only news I get from home is what I see on the internet before I fall
asleep at night. The arguments over the carbon tax and asylum seek-
ers, the football results—the daily comings and goings that preoccupy
me when I'm at home—seem distant to me, as if they are happening
on another planet.
Emma and Anthony have left us. Greg is looking to replace them
with Mexicans who, apart from being good film men, are resourceful
and can speak the language. We need people who know how to drive,
where to park, how to get the right food.
In Basile, Louisiana, I stepped briefly into Redlich's City Cash, a
boudin sausage shop, and watched an elderly French-speaking Cajun
man named George make this delicacy. He boiled up a kilogram of
fatty pork meat and some pork liver and ground it all up into mince in
a meat grinder. He stirred in rice and onions, salt, pepper and Cajun
spices, then he loaded it into a stuffer, from which the mixture was
stuffed into sausage casing. The sausages were then steamed. When
they were ready, George showed me how to bite the end off and squeeze
the meat into my mouth. It tastes more delicious than it sounds.
I had an excellent physio session this evening with Brenna and
Chris, from an organisation called Anatomix. They needled me using a
kind of acupuncture, and I felt like a porcupine. The needles released
the pressure in my muscles and immediately I felt better.
I've run across so many bridges. Today I crossed a bridge that tra-
versed 6 kilometres of swampland.
As I write this, I'm chomping on one of the most delicious mangoes
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