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24 hours a day, which, although I was prepared for it, is bloody discon-
certing—the prevailing sound, louder even than the screaming wind
outside the tent, is that of the shifting ice. It sounds just like two huge
pieces of metal rubbing together. I haven't washed in eight days. Being
so grimy is really uncomfortable, but it's part of everyday life for many
people who live on the street or don't have water.
I'm finding that messages from friends and strangers around the
world, telling me to keep going and never give up, are a wonderful sup-
port. It seems the word about the run is out there and getting louder
with every step I take.
aPril 14
A terrible day. From the first 100 metres, we struck walls of ice rubble
8 metres high. The whole place looks like a battle zone with ice chunks
of all shapes and sizes strewn everywhere as if the landscape has been
under heavy bombing. This is what happens when the elements of
wind and water play tug-of-war. All around us now, as we sit in our
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