The smile


What other thinks
What I feel

I’ve got a message over the weekend. She thought of me while seeing this


I love Agi for knowing exactly when to send motivational msg to me. Sixth sense grounbreakingly there for her and I am just so thankful for that. In running you really meet some special people.
Because in fact I’m not always laughing, I’m not always smiling. Nor do I run all the time.
I wish though, but one can not only just run. Smile perhaps. But keep running must stop sometimes. Smiling too. Lifelearning.
Like when stuck in the traffic on the way to kindergarten a road which on a better day takes twenty or less minutes. This time an hour and a half. Daughter throwing up in the car. Calming her down is a real challenge. Vomit drying on her jeans. I had a choice to turn back go home and start over, or just keep on going. Both choice with major traffic. Kept on going and started to cry. Like real cry.
Although I thought all my tears been used all. Don’t like upsetting my girl, so I turned to her and we started to make a play out of it, all the way.
She must not feel my stress, my pain. I should smile at her. It is ok. Admitting it the harsh way, I hate playing characters, but for her it’s only for her.
Smile 1 of the day.
Being late like the hundredth time for the kindergarten, I put in another smile. Smile 2 of the day, not so honest. Talking with the sitters. Getting back in the car, I must listen to the music while organizing daily plans, sneaking run into workload. Lunchbreak once again. Traffic is major, but let people in front of me, playing nice, smile coming back. In a way. Strangers, I’m my own stranger.
Work. Coffee. And some sun. Getting in contact with a long lost one. We will have a chat. Perhaps honest. Not that our relationship was ever honest – looking back.
Setting up a date for Tuesday night. Smile 3. From work associate turned friendship or so. This reminds me, I must cancel saturday’s friends’ night, another workdelationship turned superfriendship nightdate I overscheduled for that. Friends’ bday should go on Sunday than. Crazy hectic social calendar. Not that I’m anywhere anyone important at all. Selfeestem issues. Smile 4 comes up, this one is perhaps honest, I guess I’m seriously not the one others think of me. This makes me smile. Remembering some words.
I’m getting dressed. Short shorts and tank top feels good but weird. Not happy with the body living in. Not today. No smile.
I cannot run slow. I keep the pace at 4:40 steady, but not checking on it, comes from the veins, neutral ride. Wind is on. I run anyways. Soon I gotta stop anyways, not stopping just different pace. Talking pace. Taking it easy. Character to put on again.
Meeting with my twin, feels great, we build each other up. We pick up ourselves when we meet. We are intense as individuals, but together we are like overactivated hypers. We always meet with animated gestures, immediate sign for everyone around to look at us. To take notice. We are serious shits. We are no amazons, nor pretty. We are who we are. But we build each other up. We cry and laugh together, but we turn our cry to a supergood laugh at last. We, either together or individually make people happy. The way it is. We are so intense, people cannot do otherwise but smile. Than they rest for two days after meeting us. Being intense it is.
Painful smile we start with. We are both a bit torned down. Different reasons, same results.
But if she is down I gotta get her out of it. Mission for me as an angel. Am I and angel? Not really. Just being myself.
So I start dance, and she soon picks up. Tears haven’t dried up on my face when I start to cry again, sensitivity fvck it! Tears, I thought I used them all soon turns to smile. Forgot counting smiles, where I was. Dancing turns to be the best choice. Seriously, the power of running in terms of psychological effects should be once researched. Phd plans if time ever permits.
I sometimes start to believe I’m special, hardly ideal, but something more than I believe I am. I must project something. But is that real? Does it really work, to reach people’s soul through my smile?
Always wanted to put something on the table, not to be remembered however, but to feel accomplished for myself, to believe I’ve been there and have done something. Not wishing for awesome times on any races, this I feel happier for others to achieve, nor willing to take over power and leadership – though I sometimes do that too, in small ways, no dictatorship can handle that much sensitivity I was born with.
But most of all, I’m so emotionally grateful for the people I likelove around me, old ones like Tim, the so called Timimodel having her 15 minutes fame in Madrid as everyone thinks she is Sia, or my daughter obsessively holding onto a book of Thomas Meyer, I so want to start reading but cannot take away her happiness, when she is not sleeping with it she puts into her dean and deluca shopping bag, like her own bible or something. Jewish roots hello. Or my best ones, and my heartedly important one, and Marilyn and the rest. And also Agi, who has the sixth sense when to cheer me up with this notsoezoteric running motivational BS quotes I although being a snob like.

Must stop now. Otherwise I ruin all the blog existence whatsoever.
They call me csibesz. A word in hungarian, means naughty, or I don’t even know how it is spelled. Kids are usually the csibesz ones, boys most probably. But I’m not a kid anymore, nor a little boy.
Just a grown up girl by age, willing to make people happy.

This post was meant to be a post about a whole bar of chocolate vs a bonbon. But that one must wait, not yet ready to admit that one.


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