100 kilometers?! Have I lost my mind?
And the agony!
Okay – take a deep breath. 100 kilometers. On foot. In under 24 hours. Who comes up with an idea like that?

Me. And my fellow sufferer Jonas.

Such adventures always sound brilliant when you think them up late at night over a glass of wine. The reality was … a little different. We’ll talk about blisters, burning muscles and a pizza surprise in a moment – but let’s start at the beginning.

The provisions: pasta salad, “peanut patties” & the plan with the stores

Before we had even set foot on the route, it was clear that we wouldn’t be able to do anything here without proper munchies. Jonas prepared a family pot of pasta salad, and I had my infamous peanut patties with me – wraps with peanut butter, Nutella, fruit and nuts. Sounds wild? It is wild. But pure energy gold.

Plus muesli bars for a quick sugar kick during short breaks. Originally, we wanted to store in the stores on the way – we walked from Thursday to Friday so that everything would be open. In the end, we didn’t buy anything. Zero. Nada.

Everything we had with us (plus a small café exception with a sweet piece) was enough. And after 100 kilometers, you can treat yourself to something, right?

Delayed start and the first pain

We set off too late, of course. Because: who is on time with such an insane schedule? At least the train wasn’t.

But the first few kilometers through the vineyards of the German Wine Route? Magical.
Gentle hills, vines stretching to the horizon – you forget for a moment that you’ve just voluntarily embarked on a 24-hour marathon ritual. And the route? Thanks to the perfect signposting of the German Wine Route, it’s practically foolproof. Theoretically, you don’t even need a sat nav.

But then: the right foot. Ouch. The instep hurt like hell – and really early on. I was really scared that I would have to stop.
At the 50-kilometer mark, halfway through, on a bench: shoes off. Massage. Take a deep breath. Then came the memory of New Zealand: shoes tied too tightly = swollen feet = pain. Once the laces were loosened – and off we went again. Sometimes the solution really is that simple.

Pizza, angels & a dance

Our break rule: stop briefly every 10 kilometers. Sounds banal – but it was worth its weight in gold. The body needs it, the head anyway.

And then, at kilometer 38, came the highlight: Sabrina and Linah. Two angels in human form. With pizza, non-alcoholic beer, snacks – even jelly babies. 8 p.m. – and then this. Sabrina danced to welcome us. Just like our bundle of energy are known to do. How awesome is that? Pure magic, pure motivation.

Shortly afterwards, in the center of Neustadt, a woman speaks to us anxiously. We should hurry, the pubs are about to close. When we explain to her that we’re not on a pub crawl, but on a long-distance hike, she looks at us like we’re aliens. I kind of understand.

Awake at night, thanks to a headlamp and Jonas’ iron discipline

The night was our biggest unknown. Tiredness, darkness, cold – the full program. But: we hardly got tired. Thanks to adrenaline. The headlamps lit the way, the conversations kept us awake, and Jonas? Became the break general.

“No, we won’t take a break until kilometer 60. The bench is too early!” – He was right. I would never have thought that before. Once you give up the rhythm, it gets tough.

Then the moment just before sunrise: 4:30 a.m. dawn, 5:00 a.m. light. The sun behind you, and suddenly everything is visible again. The vineyards, the hills – like a reset for the brain. Magical. Energy in the tank again.

Altitude drama & the cycle path of reason

The first half: 1200 meters in altitude. We actually thought the worst was over. Haha. Think again. In the end it was over 2600 meters.

So plan B: no longer walk the entire hiking trail, but instead switch to a cycle path at night – flatter, more direct and in the dark without traffic it doesn’t matter anyway. We lost a few kilometers as a result, but what the heck. We still had to complete the 100.

The last few kilometers: Hell on tarmac

So we had to run extra loops. The last few kilometers? Absolute agony. The muscles? On fire. The head? In the tunnel. Every step hurt. But: giving up was an option that kept popping into my head over the last 20 kilometers. Without Jonas, it might even have become a reality.

8 kilometers before our destination Weißenburg, in France, we sit down again at the side of the road. The air is finally out. Jonas tries to hold everything together. Not only was there still 8 km to go to our destination, but we were also more than 4 km short due to our “shortcut”. Jonas suggests a route that takes us out into the fields to make up some more meters. I actually wanted to go without painkillers, but I couldn’t take any more. Pill in, music in my ears and off we went – through the tunnel towards the finish.

The last milestone for us was the wine gate in Schweigen-Rechtenbach, the official end of the German Wine Route. Unfortunately, it was only at the 97.5 kilometer mark. We still had to cross the French border and arrive in Weißenburg to complete the 100.

Signs kept telling us that the destination was close, 2.5 km to Weißenburg, 1 km, then another kilometer to the town center, 1 km to the train station. It seemed like an endless 1 km. It never ends.

I looked at my watch every second. 99.8… 99.9… 100.0. Then: saw the bench – sat down – collapsed. No drama, just silence. Stretch out my legs. Stretch out the pain. And above all: Don’t. More. Run. Have to.

Roaming gone wrong – or: Where is Linah?

Euphoria? Only briefly. Jonas’ girlfriend Linah was supposed to pick us up at the station – but: No reception. No ringing. Nothing. Jonas wanted to look for her on foot. I waited, happy not to have to take another step.

In the end, it was all very simple – we were in France and she wasn’t roaming. Classic.

A bond for eternity

What remains? A crazy experience – and a real bond. Jonas and I have known each other for a long time, but recently we’ve really grown together. Less partying, more nature, more depth.

I could never have done that on my own. We’ve carried each other – physically and mentally. And if one of us had given up? The other would probably have fallen with us.

An adventure like this shows that it’s not just about distance, time or endurance. It’s about connection, trust – and fighting through together.

100 kilometers. Two friends. And an experience that stays with you.

Would I do it again? Certainly not. Would I want to miss the experience? Also a clear no.

In the end, we covered exactly 100 km, over 2000 meters in altitude. The whole thing in just over 23 hours, of which we took 4 hours of breaks.