Parts of the course passed by mores as on Isle of Skye. Passing the Dragon’s back, the Hill of death, Nimis, while jumping from one stone to another makes runners gasp for air while trying to take it all in. The next second it feels like the old drowned seamen, the “Strandvaskarna”, are trying to pull you down into the abyss. You are struggling with numb legs pumped with lactic acid. By Kullens Lighthouse you can see the light from Mölle harbor. You fantasize about what’s on today’s grill menu, you can almost scent it. The last 1200 meters along the old beach road with that salty south west wind gently caressing your right cheek quickly turns into euphoria listening to the applause and cheering from the crowd. A feeling you will never forget.