Bonum Cursum

For the first time in a long while, I could see the independent crowd on the streets of my hometown. For years luck hadn’t been on my side, but taking advantage of the occasion, I decided not to travel to the capital and stayed home instead.

I began my celebration a day early in a charmingly named place, Stolec near Dobra, in the Szczecin region. Unexpectedly, it became a phenomenal, intimate run in the midst of nature. There was no real competition, just a lot of quiet reflection and simple running. At the start, I ran over freshly fallen leaves, past slightly frozen humps in the trail, the rhythm of my footsteps blending with the crisp air. The experience was sprinkled with a small yet memorable ceremonial moment and the handing over of the flag in honor of a very special milestone — one hundred and twenty-three years, no less. Less is more? Perhaps.

The next day, as tradition dictated, I joined friends for the Independence March. I was surprised by the turnout — over six thousand people gathered, all cheerful, all moving together in a warm, family-like atmosphere. It was a vivid reminder that celebrating freedom is not about grand gestures, but about people coming together with sincerity and joy.

Stolec may have been only the site of a one-time centennial run, but it left its mark in memory. It was a quiet, reflective journey through nature and history, a reminder that some races are measured not by medals or records, but by the feelings they leave behind.

I hope to return next year, and I wish everyone at least another hundred years of wisdom and friendship.

PS: Stolec is such a funny name for a village — it literally means “stool” in Polish — yet there is something incredibly charming about it. Its small trails, quiet forests, and gentle hills have a way of putting a smile on my face every time I think about them. Even now, the name alone makes me grin and brings back the warmth of that peaceful run.