Unlucky for whom? Marathon in 5 hrs 10 mins

Another seamless performance. Samia and I have little to do at times apart from looking at his footfall, speaking to each other softly like a couple of snooker commentators. We'd like to get a life but the boy doesn't let us.

It's a funny thing - I have now looked at lots of variations on the planned routes including the most exciting coastal roads but one thing has become apparent - he needs consistency to tick off the miles. This is paramount, to him and us. Identifiable roads, the equivalent of A/B roads in the UK are what I've planned on the route and they seem to work well. A nasty junction occasionally means we'll put him in the car then jettison him out a mile down the road when the difficulty has passed (time in car doesn't count on his run time, should you ask..) but we have to keep him moving and safely. In this sense there's a surprising amount to do and rightly so. There is a balance of confidence and fragility to each day - something could go wrong but it really shouldn't and won't as far as we're concerned.

Today we had a fascinating progression from Baiona to Pontevedra, through the dramatic port of Vigo with its vast vessels and fuel platforms and Hugh ran past this only seeing what he can allow himself in order not to lose the rhythm. I envy him this - my Achilles is still tender and I can't skip along yet with him. The feeling of freedom is clear in his eyes; covering miles with certainty and each day is a journey achieved.

We could become blase but we and you shouldn't - a marathon is still that - a full 26.2 miles and no easier on undulating roads and in an unusual environment. Hugh is looking weathered but competent; a product of almost a fortnight's effort and grit. Samia tweaks with his various twinges like a concerned F1 mechanic. Tonight we rest at the attractive town of Pontevedra, a good steak inside us and for me the familiar taste of a decent Ribera del Duero. Could be worse.