The word seriously just makes me blow a whistle to stop.
This is still not the bonbon post though. Seems like I have issues dealing with NY and chocolate.

Not that I have no issue dealing with hearing the word wannabe.
Have I ever intended to be a runner with back thought other than the pure joyment of happiness? NO. Nor have l thought to run in groups, meeting people or share the love of running.
And therefore never ever wanted to be a wannabe so called. Ever.
Not because I have the background of professional athletics past, nor any connections I had to any major league athletes whatsoever.
I had stopped lovingly admiring pro sportmen after turning 19 or so. Being the girlfriend of the infamous quaterback slash gossip magazine star slash drug involved celebrity one, was not easy task, long distance gave me the choice to think on the right move to take. Not the best cure, I moved to the nationally known, nonathletic slash alcoholic slash gossip magazine cover star in order to find out who he is cheating with on me. These are just the serious ones though. Basketball players, names I had long forgotten, waterpolo team, and the part I call the Kate Moss era: actor I should not name, and rockband singers, too much too forgettable and of course the magician. I had my share to live the life to learn from. And I chose to stay away from the spotlife’s girlfriend part. Role of the wannabes. No thank you.

But I keep hearing the word on and on.
I’m sorry if it is bothering. My existence in general. It does feel too much to myself sometimes too, believe me. Overwhelming, crazy. Too much. I understand.
But I do not wanna be a wannabe.

I wanna be me.
And therefore, i jump on the word wannabe. Wannabe runner? Seriously? What that means?

I don’t really care about others, when emotions are hardly involved. Others do. I can tell. But this is not a post about bonbons.
Or when they say I’m a wannabe just because I’m there to inspire some. Naturally insulting some others. This comes with the part. And yes I might look old, because I’m not so young anymore. Also, I don’t PS my wrinkles out. I think wrinkles around the eyes are beautiful, but this is still not the post about bonbons.

I hardly get offended. But when someone tells me about wannabes, my heart rate rises not matter the pace i’m running in.
Wanna hurt me big time, clue is here, say the word. I get offended even by the word, no matter who it refers to.

Because I really believe, whoever runs cannot pretend just to run, and do a wannabe. In order to run, you gotta fight against your lazy self, the weather, the bad thoughts, the good thoughts. Must start, must sweat, must work.
It is not a pacer’s speech though.

The morning brought some new nicknames in. Talking about sunday’s marathons, so many of us ran in diverse cities around Europe. Vienna, being close enough, Budapest having no concrete jungle marathon race springtime, runners choice made them got over the border. Times thrown into the conversation – I’m only listening and taking notes, pace makes me breath instead of chat, that is more essentially vital in this case, not that I have much to say anyways. Times and names I’ve never heard of. Not real names with first and last ones, just nicks. ‘Little Cramp’ started too fast… She always does that.
Little Cramp? omg. Guys do gossip and make jokes behind our backs afterall.
Wonder on my possible behind-my-back nicks, probably among the worst it could be wannabe.

I guess I’m still lucky I’m not named after something more profane, but who knows. I might be a Miss Annoying or a Too Much or something like that.

Was late starting this morning, I had to rush, after a mile or two, I saw a familiar way of running style front of me. I knew I soon will catch, but if keeping the pace I also pass. Analysing options of either say hi and keep running together or just say hi and pass, or just simply pass. Regarding to the fact that we were going to the same event, and me being nice afterall, I ran up to and said hi.
He was surprised. I would have been too, afterall we live like a block away from each other. Seriously. What a coincidence I replied. No more jokes I decided, we talked the day before to talk this morning. Was he like being shy? Ir perhaps tired I ask. No, not really. We keep it in the small talk level, I wonder why have I not just passed him and kept running. I understand the way it goes, but how long we had not talked for? Two months?
Finally we arrive to the group we are meeting and I fly over to them for some more easygoing flow.
And today I’m glad the word wannabe was not mentioned.

This post I started two days ago, and today I know more. Getting older getting wiser with time passing, aha. One nickname surfaced perhaps I can live with, though basic, and does not refer my deep me.


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