No ordinary run

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Being a guide is something.

I really wanted to run this race, but I was never good in planning long term ahead, so obiviously this race was as well sold out as so many races I’ve been trying to register for.
Vivicitta is not something extraordinary, hardly comperable to any major Ms, nor Gotheburg’s varvet. But it’s Budapest’s own race season opening of a kind for the last 30 years. I still have the very first race shirt, although it was earned by my dad, and I used it proudly as a pyjama for years.
Nonsuprisingly by the time I woke up this year to finally register, it was already sold out. Suprisingly in Hungarian standars though.
I really wanted to run this race just as much as Vienna marathon which I couldn’t attend either. Daughter had a theater ticket, and afterall it was well worth to go there instead running a marathon. #beingamom
As much as I wanted to run Vivicitta, I also let it go somehow, putting deep inside of me to the rest of the others, with the cannots, must nots, and forget about its. Morals and the missing of races.
But than came the light the end of the tunnel – I love open windows to get back into closed doored houses – because afterall I could just help. Help while running. Or run while help. Or whatever. Being a guide. And the whole purpose just changed in one second. It is like the princess who had to bring and not bring present at the same time to the king.

Being a guide to a visually impaired girl for a half marathon I thought would make me feel enormously emotional, and in fact it did. Not because she looked someone I should be sorry for, not at all. She was so vitally crazy and smiley, talkative and open, she was happy and full of life. Entering the start area my heart jumped out of place, but I wasn’t racenervousness at all. In fact I was so not there, I did not even know where we ran afterall. Lining up I was feeling sorry for myself, me, who never had done that before. Seriously, I had to shout at myself, this girl relies on my presence and all I could do is drop tears on something I was told not to worth to cry for. I do believe it worth it, but I also had to switch my mind to ignore mode. Not that I could, nor I can. But I had to push it deep down once again, and concentrate. The race was fun and easy and cold. Yes, I was cold inside and out. It was something throughout the race I did it automatically. And I felt so guilty all the way. Although, I not only guided her, I also pushed another one on her first halfmarathon, meanwhile feeling sorry for myself not to run it as my hardest as usual. To get those must nots, forget its, saying hello, like we are strangers moments out of my head, to step on them and to get a good laugh at the end. Or sweat at least, because it is not something I can just throw away it seems. #lifelearning.
Automatic mode stayed on, as it is on for some time now, doing what it is told to be done for me. Still dreaming though, beautiful things, wrinkled ones in fact.
Automatic mode stayed on, concentration to say hi/sorry/weneedspace/thank/sorry/haveanicerun for over a hundred times, listening to the other guide, who I didn’t hear- automatic switch off mode was turned on as well. But after a while, I started to do a good job, as the girls started to loose motivation, around 16K. Making some so american comments, cheered and pushed them, clapped and sang, and danced to them, and we pushed her to do a PB for her. Getting her into the finishline under 2 hours, first halfer also did great.
Just as passing the finishline.
Because although I was nowhere near to my time and PB, nor did I drop any sweat during, the minute of realising how happy they were to had done it made me feel a human too. Hugging and screaming were enormous, accepting interview questions so much less, wanted to hide, but was happy for them. They were really something! They fvcking did it! And it made me happy -ish too.

After race already feeling half human we went for a beer. Automatic mode switched back on, though was glad to be with great men, and I was thankful.
It took another couple of hours and routine daily methods to ease up and calm myself down. I had to. Still fake smile on, I got a message from the girl thanking for the help. And that was the point it really hit me. Because afterall she helped me, and it wasn’t me. It was not about me. It was her achievment, and I could take part to be happy for her. And she really did something.
I could run another race another pace, I could push myself, I could even run a good time and regret I didn’t push enough as soon as passing the finishline, but what it is compared to what she did. She did something extraordinary in her terms, something she is so happy for.

I know that happiness is relative and is a question whether it worth to chase, but lady N really showed the pure essence of its importance.

We kept messaging each other til late night, I soon forgot the logical question of how she could read me, and kept writing. Life is full of surprises, and you never know when you meet someone who bring emotions to your life. #lifelearning #melearning

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Smilers.
It was some race I will not forget for a long time.

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