Before start, we look confused…


After 120 we look happy … And tired … And full of emotions …

  Carbofuel with our support team looks calm and easy … But in fact missing one and quite anxious…

And the end we look happy…

There are no words for this 24 hours, but I still must write before the blues hit, if so. A day, where I planned to remember every second every touch every essence. Special. 

Hugs. Suffer. Pain. Easyness. Hard. Fvcking unbelievable hard. Stopping. For a moment. To keep the moment. Morning lights, late night headlamp. There was this run once upon a time, no photos to look back, but I remember every second. Forever. Trueness of emotions. Facing some and living some more. This is not a diary of the day yet, just a smile I keep on my face and other I hope. This is a complex experience with the most enormous details to remember from not in specific order: rolling out of the car, running 4:40 alone listening to hiperkarma and co on loop, talking, taking the time, the popcorn seller at Lelle, the talking of the past and present and the future to avoid, the neverending road at Siofok, the help issue, the sleep, the coffee, the touch the feel rhe support, the run, the fixie, the fun, the low times which never happened, the bon appetite and no appetite, the same way to thinking and non thinking. Perfectly different a day to spend and share.

Ultra is way and a word completely responds to the moment of a full day.

In short ultraemotions for and ultraspecial day to keep the smile on.

Some things cannot be forgotten.

Soon memo of the race to come.

Now it is all warm hearted happiness and total tiredness and a will to continue.

Thank you.




I used to be a fashion girl, knowing and perhaps wearing the latest, if not the ones not yet in people’s mind, some kind of a trendsetter but in small, had no effect on others nor the fashion society a’la mass. I knew every ads, every details every textures, all the upcoming and vintage. I still have my Vogue coming to doorstep monthly I check the usual sites daily. 

But my head turned to other direction, and the fashionista affection needed to deal and share with a new thing. Running.

So many times I mentioned my runaway from running in my teenage, the way it is such a good thing, to had let my own life abandon the track the races and its accompanying stress, the pro life. To totally left behind for new adventures, so I thought. Parties, dancing on tables, getting superdrunk, highlife, loosing my head, university, than dropping out of uni, than restart, than party some more, travel the world, hearing the photgraphers clicking and instructing, my hair and make up to be done hundreds of times, meet diverse people, fall in and out of men in such a speeded up way, enjoy and enjoying less of life, than settle a bit, start working, finishing the goddamn school, starting a new one, working and modeling at the same time, working even more, settleing down even more, stop smoking, stop smoking anything, doing yoga, doing yoga and pilates for two hours a day, seven days a week, riding my bike to work, still party a lot, but no more dancing on tables anymore, than getting pregnant right after decided, growing the belly, growing the confidence settling down is a good choice, finding the perfect name, still doing yoga extreme, than having the most wonderful child, sleepless nights, being a mom, going babymommy pilates, can’t stop won’t stop, still reading magazines and books, but next to the cot in the dark on the ipad, so I see what I read. I start working again just after two weeks hiatus, soon  taking my baby to work with me, life getting back to normal, yoga and pilates whenever I have twenty minutes. Family life begins and time is on the short side. My girl getting to creche than kindergarten, and I’m now at present.

I run. And something has changed. I do find the time to run, it makes me tired and makes me more active at the time. Started as a breathing some fresh air kinda thing, 5k, so I would wake up after a sleepless night. No pressure, no nofun. All for the benefit.

I didn’t see myself getting addicted, never would have thought on the first hand, I was so done with running at age 18. It just happened, overnight, or developed with the increase of distance? 

After a bit came more and now comes the most.

Whether I’m convertedin lifestyle to running I still don’t know, not that it matters, but will know more next week. Or not.

Happy to run, ready to run I’m not 100% sure, but ready to see myself in this. I fear but I also dare. Or not?

Converted perhaps. 

And I’m happy I didn’t become a university than a pro athlete, but luved my life in order to find my way back to running. And the running community. Because that also is a big part of my conversion, and I’m so happy to share some moments together. Yo biatch kinda emotional turning now, auuuw, here we come for the challenge!! Woohuut. Now over and out!

Mind game

Ph. by Mary Ellen Mark

This is not my favorite from her, but sums up my days if not my life. 

Wanting the feeling of living in the moment for the moment, to acknowledge and realize every single frame – 24 in a second – my being of now. Because tapering as well as the rest of the world for me needs to be understood. I work like that, though lot of technical details involved, nuances, I hate the feeling when I’m not aware of everything, simple misunderstanding leads to failing to get a job, something like that. I run like that, I listen to my body, and I’m the only one knowing where and where to stop, or not. I live like that, in need of understanding every aspect, though it is not possible, and sometimes I even dream bigger to wish I could know others thoughts. Not possible either. i also eat like that, as soon as I start I want more, I drink like that, I play like that, I laugh and perhaps cry like that. 

And now I taper like that. 

This will be my first ever race that was previously planned. None of my marathons I took part was scheduled into my dailies more that three weeks advance. Possibly always less, not to leave place to doubts and questionings. This time, ultrabalaton was decided about five months ago, making me ever nervous on such a long preparation mentally, physical prep just came along I guess, I run like that: want more and more. I guess.

And in comparison the race seems quite quick, although it is 220 km and at about 22 hours. An ultra. 

Therefore I want to live every second of it, learning every aspect of it for further inprovement, but mainly on self learning terms.

Like I’m reading this book I wish would never end – though if I find a book I love I keep reading til the end with not even stopping to eat nor take notice of the outside world-  to keep me in the occupation of understanding the deep meanings of the sentences really meant, inspecting my own self while visualizing the storyline. Funny enough I’ve had this book for over a year, but i first opened it couple of weeks ago and I plan to finish it just before the race start, possibly when lying in bed the night before the ultra if I don’t get my well deserved night tale. A running book, a serious mindgame explanation book of a kind making me realize I might be one of them, the true lovers of running though not the same level. I used to be a runner, the so called wannabe I now understand the meaning of it, it wasn’t derogative nor mean, it was really just a word with a real meaning, me being out on the streets, running and thinking I own the asphalt, the trail, the day, the night. But I was nobody, not that I am someone now. But my mind changed. I appreciate my body, the people around me, the suffers, the joy, the hard work. Though my own hard work came spontaneously and was not taken as hard work in fact. It just evolved to 2 a days runs sometimes 3, over 120k weeks, the need of going out as much as possible. Developing some kind of a habit, maybe a new way of life, new understandings and new meanings. I guess I used to run for a kind of social appearance even when alone, for a state of mind, for being on drug-feel, for the reasons I laugh on about now. I’ve run to feel better afterwards, but the trainings and times I’d put in the last months gave me the reasoning that the run itself during is something special something that makes me who I am. So obsessed and occupied with running lately, I need to understand the why-s. I don’t consider myself an average recreational runner anymore, nor an athlete. Lifestyle would be a word if the word wouldn’t simplify the whole as it is.

I’m probably the same old self, only to take something to an extraordinary level once again in my levels. 

I don’t train to be the best. I run because I love the whole process, not only the end. Tapering is on, and the race seems a quicky compare to the preparation and the tapering itself, and I wish it would last for longer. Never thought I would say anything like that, me being spontan, a quick tempered, living in the moment all of a sudden feeling the urge to chew on every momentum of the happenings. To make it last. To postpone the end. Not that it could end like that. But the race will be over at one point leaving a well deserved emptyness behind.

Prep contained serious and least questionable if not bullshit advice quite a few in fact. But from point zero I automatically sticked with one advice and one opinion, though at that time probably only meant as a nice one saying things on a way seemed laid back and definitely less proud than any other advisors. It worked perfectly with my bodyworking my way of life, my own understandings. It soon became more.

It just happens like that. Thoughts overwhelm in a good way. We are common on a lot of things. Thinking is one thing – although it is probably hard to accept the fact being a snob on the first hand 🙂 – , acting and reacting and non talking and talking, and living and running. Big words even when no words, pretty awesome stuff though, handling is fragile and a must, not that it the real shit is ever mentioned nor accepted. But it gives calmness and relief. No overtalked overthought, overran, overreacted, just simply there, although trying to concienve it is not real but in fact it is. If not, than that is also ok, really worth the time and place and body. Selflearning.

I want to live through every second of it. It is probably what I missed in my NY marathon last year being so occupied with scratching the surface only, not trying to understand the drives and the vibes. I must do differently this time. 

I cannot wait to run and share the weekend and freeze every possible moment to be recalled in my memory later good and bad ones, all the ones build me up and keep me running to be able to look back in order to be able to look further in the future.

And here is one of my favorite from Mary Ellen Mark.

Rip. She really was somehow a lady I wished to be in terms of photographing people in such an empatic but also realistic way, where the b&w photograhps give a whole colorful background story of its object. Kinda Molly Sims but less fame around her. 

Tapering and co



When one must only think of the forthcoming event. When suddenly the mind game needs to be taken seriously, when the unanswered needs to seeked in answers, although cannot be answered. Metaphors overload.

The why-s.

Why to take such a challange? Why did I loose my sense and said yes to something so painful? 

The how-s.

How on Earth did this happen? And since it happened, how will I deal with it. How to be more powerful and at the same time cheerful too? How will I ever be happy about myself and how will it go? 

The when-s.

When will I get enough? And when will I get calm?

The what-s.

What is with running to have such an effect on me and in fact so many others? What makes it so addictive for me?


D-6 and I cannot rest. I’m anxious and I’m worried. But I’m also tired and also super ready and full of power. I’m happy and I’m sad. I’m definitely not an adult, I’m a moody little school girl with so much emotions I sometime think I cannot handle. So I run. But emotions brought up in running cannot be handled with running, or can it? So I run. I sometimes wish to runaway from this world, the mirror I need to face and I don’t like the one looking back at me. I wish to cry so I run. But I just laugh so I run. Do I love to run so I run?

Do I love running?

I miss it when I don’t, but is that loving running at the same time? Tapering can be moody and experimentative, but I cannot just run. To overcome. Things needs to be looked through and analysed. Even nonsense matters in order to make sense. But does everything needs to make sense at all? Like why enter a race to run over a hundred km-s? It doesn’t make sense.

Pressure is on on so many dimensions. I’m fortunately not the one posting with proud and looking for likes, my challenges I partake all over the world, but nontheless quite some people know about my next big one to run. They are even if not telling expect something or at least have an opinion about it. Is it a prove to them if I/we finish? Not so much, but if I/We quit, they will once again have a word on their opinion, at least how sorry they feel, or something. I don’t care about that, but to face anything less than not finishing is a pressure on myself I have to deal with myself. Pressure to finish, but what is the gain when achieved? i will know more about myself? Or simply get to the same state of mind as usual after a marathon that there is more in me. Even if crying at the finishline. Do i prove anything to myself? Pressure to deal with tapering, which in one hand takes off the pressure of the body but gives an enormous thinking phrase especially since I experienced a way of being ready for a race not long ago vs. completely fooling my mind to be ready on previous races. They say I’m tough and strong both in body and mind to race. But I know better, I know myself or so I think. I know how I go run when problems stack up or out of oure happiness, or going insane thinking and overthinking on one specific topic. This time, running which I overthink and I’m not allowed nor that I want to jeopardize the race with running away to run. Pressure to not face this all alone, knowing my own limits, my own ways. We are two this time, and we must listen and build each other. I gotta keep up for the other, built his confidence meaning hide my doubts.

When in university, mid-terms and exam periods were all about questioning myself on all levels, but never achieved to fully set my mind on studying. I was in crisis all the time, but also seeked for crisis, could not function without. And I hated crisis. I know that about myself and I know I need to loose the habit. Do not seek problems to avoid deep mind games throughout tapering. Accepting the little voice pro and against is almost if not harder than the physical preparation for the race. My currnt state of mind… Is it real or just taking the pressure off of the race. Do I really feel sad and down?

Like I wanted to be alone but could never be alone. To face my own thoughts, was always easier to be around other people with other problems. Not that I had any other than myself. And this is how I found even more to worry about, and question myself even more. 

Pressure on everything. Eating, not eating, running, no running, talk to someone, or don’t bother. Be nice, or just pretend to be nice, or even better, don’t give a shit and just focus on myself. People, who just ping, who I don’t know and even though thought would be interesting to talk to, but than I rather not. Boring. This only to avoid the real feelings faced, the real meanings to understand, though these are nonsense, feelings cannot be logically explained. Just happen. The over feeling of love towards people who are around, to press to feel less love perhaps to one, because it is too much to handle. Who do I fool really?

I’m preparing. In so many ways. Running plan, mind to direct focusing mode, eating, but also to build the other if I cannot focus on myself and becuase we are two in this, because this is how I am, and I wish others would be the same. Or not. I prepare mini things to make it major and better throughout the race. I want to make the best out of it, because as soon as it ends it only will remain a memory, no more. 

Races are different than real life. In real there are things harsh ones remain and have to be dealt with prolonged. Race can be taken away in the memorylane and be replaced with the next one. In my life there are things that just cannot simply be replaced. Nor people. People saying or not even saying goodbye are a loss and their absence creates crisis in terms of self acknowledgment as well, though this is the least important aspect of it. I terribly miss my grandma, but the way I miss her is such a small aspect comparing how I remember her and how she really was… Going off topic, though not in fact. 

There are some people around me I feel so much love towards and I cannot express in fact I act unnice, bothered, arrogant sometimes ignorant. Than I feel the guilt and try to act better next time just to feel the same once again, running in circles. Loved ones new and old. Too much to handle but wish friendships could ease the pressure, to keep in touch forever. Be the special, whatever.

Tapering begun, and thoughts are to be dealt with. 

Love running and perhaps my endurance and power is really coming from the way I love in general. Born to run quote above. And that is building my confidence. Level to start with… Six days to go.

Story of my life


 One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless and yet be determined to make them otherwise. This philosophy fitted on to my early adult life, when I saw the improbable, the implausible, often the “impossible,” come true. 

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Selfesteem issues.

Feeling monday-ish.

Smile so smile

There is an issue with my vibe. Serious, although I look funny, but it is Monday, that time of the week. Also happens to be a rest day regard to the running plan I don’t tend to follow due to the fact that being spontaneous is fun, and I like to be fun and spontaneous, and I don’t even know when and where this sentence will finish, but least put an end to it. Doesn’t make sense anyways. 

I keep thinking of our big run around the corner with someone with a new addiction to running but keeping own life following the routines what life requires and we think require and we believe in ourselves in times and sime when not, like we are running but also drink and also smoke and also work but most importantly being parents and have our lives. How will it effect our future if and we do finish this race that hardly matters to outsiders such as our partners or the ones we are living with. 

I also think of big friendships developed thru my running – not vallis alps thru ones -, the ones really matter, which brings inspiration to the mind turning legs into motion, the ones I can call now up or they can reach me with non-run related issues, problems, crisises. Girls and boys too. Emotional. And there are some more important ones from the circle the ones wish to be friends instead. Would have been simpler and probably better, at least I would feel worth.

When I don’t think alone I’m usually around people. Feeling low or high, usually the latter, social personalisification I seem to smile extraordinary when someone is around me, the more the better way, exponentially, perhaps the reason why people are attracted, the ones actually take notice, others look thru me, the vallis alps kinda way. Not really, it is either attraction or repulsion, nothing in between black and white with no grey in between.

Overreacting magnet inside and out, though outside must seem different. Like a man on its bike with a basket in front with the cutest puppy in, or driving a volskwagen type one, an oldtimer mini or a fiat 500. Brings smile to the most sorrow people too, although the object, the biker the mini driver might not be in their perfectest amelie kinda mood, and won’t react to the happy faces they bring into people’s mind at first sight. Do people care? Do they even realize, the one brings the brief smile to the face might have its own problems, issues of life? 

I do smile, and I do work on others to smile on, because this makes me smile too. Smile is metaphorical, goodfeel is the goal to achieve. I probably overreact on my own effect on others, though I have no proof, I like to believe I make other feel better in times. However, life is not always bright, and power looses its effect when reaction towards fail to arrive to its subscriber. Because it is not what they are willing to see, the one always seem happy enough to make the other cheer up cannot be low on mood, therefore not willing to accept the fact that sometimes the party clown needs some cheering up attention and mood rising push. 

Pretty confusing to understand an  individual built up of emotions, little bit of selfesteem with the knowledge of the affect having on others simply by being alive. Schizofrenic in a way, bipolar the other way, maniac depressed the time feeling the worst. Mondays. Others tend not to take notice when reaching out for a nice talk, a serious one where real thoughts could evolve, they rather dissapear, hard to realize, that a mini driver can feel bad at times too. They suppose to make our lifes brightful for a second not to turn us down.

Mondays seem thoughtful and a bit dark lately. Thoughts evolve, absence starts to be overstated, self esterm immediately drops. It is good to have some important ones really know the true self in these times for a reach out, though Amelie also seemed not to have any close nor real friends only the ones relied on her. But in the other hand everyone has their own issues and problems, why tiring them with small little matters, like being heartbroken, left out, or just simply feeling fat. 

Writing out is one way and I like to write, though once again this is noone’s business, especially the one causing it, please stop reading. Words are just spreading anyways, no sense but also wish for no sensibility. 

I wish life was easier, less hues, less saturated, perhaps black and white. Like turn off and on a button if needed. Shut it down or just sleep mode. I do not believe nor can I achieve turning off. Mute, with no picture on.

I started this whole running to finally be alone to be myself, to be. Not to listen not to react not to immediately try to save the world or at least the person accompanying volunterally to be a so called friend, a partner, anyone who just needs to suck out some liveliness from me to feel better. Perhaps I’m too selfish to keep some power to myself, not willing to give to others and feel like a balloon with all the air spreading out just a brief second to jump around in the air seem happily. I thought run would help to achieve my own percect calmness. 

But I became a balloon in the running society as well, I first let someone blow me up in order to release me just a brief second later, giving some excitement to them with either being a helium version and suck on it, breathe in and keep in for a while, or the one pumped up with air, dropping it causes an enormous power releasing itself than at finally drop airless and powerless on the ground. That was it folks kinda way, you had your fun it is time to move on. 

And I am left behind, on the floor like any given Monday, just to squeeze myself back up the next day and start running the same circles. 

So ordinary no ordinary in any ways. 

I’m proud to be different and I’m proud to be crazy and I like to cheer people up. I like to run and I love in fact, I’m ok to be called addicted, and to be sensitive. I like to write it out, and if someone can just throw me away that is ok as well, I will survive. If I meant that much I accept, good to have in someone’s mind for a bright, might be to bright for a second or less. There are the Mondays when I think it must be a full moon feeling so extremely lowish but people around me who don’t know me give the power to overcome, and running gives happiness. 

Faking the smile, although I do sometimes but it is not me, however reaction also works on my side too, I’m the kinda mini driver who gets a smile from a passing by pedestrian makes me feel better too, so this is why although I run to be alone I run in groups. 
Ps. And fvck you really to throw me away like trash, saying it is worthless, keep ur ego, all it mattered anyways. And thank you my girl to listen my pain and doubts over and over again. 



physical and psychological 

Over with the weekend, the one I ran around 60k in three runs containing like four seasons, not weather-wise but in feelings.

Saturday was miserable and suffering, I knew the up of running in the woods and not the hood the one with the happy feel in me on Friday would end as soon as I hit the well-known concrete jungle once again, but thought the crew would give the motivation to overcome the boring and usual laps. Did not, though it was at least funner not to be alone at least. 

Saturday totally wounded me psychologically.

I felt to totally question whether it really worth to even try to run the Ultrabalaton, legs so heavy and tired brain cells seriously went dumb and lost existence, skipping pre noon duties with a sleep instead. Worries arose.

So much worry I even questioned my Sunday morning running with the same crew, same place, same laps, perhaps different topics to talk along the way, although I seem to stick with Ultrabalaton as a conversational offset in mind.

But Sunday was different. Same place, same route, same people, but I was different. Even faster than the day before I felt great and powerful. Psychological wounds dissapeared at least for the length of the run. Was ready with my part 1 run by 9 am and it also felt great. 

Though having set my mind for part 2 halfmarathon later that day, I was happy to take over routines of the Sunday morning, no tiredness. What a difference a day makes.

Second run was also a race, where once again guided the girl visually impaired with my lady twin Marilyn. I could not wait to do this together, in a twin costume with a twin smile on. But I also took it as a non-race with no stress, it was once again not about me nor the time. 

But as soon as we arrived to the venue I got all excited, all nervous, all raceready in a way. It was a running event afterall even though I was sure not running my heart out this time neither, not that I remember giving my best on any previous races lately. 

Between the two runs I took a shower just to discover no run can go without wounds for me. Water hitting my back I cried out loud. It hurted so much, screamed and looked. My whole lower back seemed gashed. Something totally rubbed my back to even bleeding. Skin horizontally along my shortline. Couldn’t really tell though, my shorts I always wear and like so much, or was it my small bag containing my ID and keys I also always have on? 

I started to look like a school kid so nutty I used to be mapped with scrathes on my body all along, stories of my days my dad used to call, bedtime tales were made out of. 

2 out of the 3 runs already made wounds both physically and psychologically. Mental madness with actual pain, don’t cry, I like wounds afterwards to keep remind me on great wisdoms of the world, even though this time it was all about the key was probably on a spot in the pocket where shouldn’t be.

I thought that the race would be easy and fun. It was actually, we screamed and cheered and had enormous fun all the way. We keep it active and alive with Marilyn anyways, cheering up each other and with our common vibe the rest of the world, or at least we wish. Forgetting about my back was not an easy task, every move scratched another surface of the skin but I didn’t care. And I still do not care, pain was nowhere near my psychologycal pain I felt the day before. 

And in fact still feel. World goes on, show must too. I wonder if real life love stories really happen, world peace exists, if years make a difference, if the somewhere sometime exists, if future is realistic or romantic or perhaps something totally different. Strive for anything other than running and finishing the Ultrabalaton? Can I would I will I think of anything else for the remaining two weeks? Or perhaps I’m totally under the influence of the race… But than what comes next. Wounds, more wounds or some gasps finally heal and not even a scab remains to remind. 

Scabs of my body.

10k race after I runcommuted home, just to take another shower, scream just another, though this time I knew my back is the sensitive one, my knees and elbow from last week’s fall started to heal already leaving some white patches behind only, map of my body.

Prefer physical pain to psychologycal ones if pain must be present at all. 

Sunday evening felt weird, like I missed a storyline over the weekend, a wound somewhere somehow else, not really knowing whether a physical or psychological one and I wondered for a while, but than fall to a deep sleep. It was a 60km weekend afterall leaving some tags this time not on my skinned body but inside of me. 

Ups and downs and movies

One day you think you’re born to run just to feel miserably suffering yourself another run practice. What it is all about?

Legs so heavy.

Just last night I had the best calmness and the biggest power in hands/legs/body, I felt joyful for the running, peace spreading through my blood, smiling like insane, just to feel like a stone, and iceberg today, legs so heavy, mind so dumb, body so paralized. I still did it anyways, I could not even give up. 

Legs so heavy.

In movies girls/ladies/women and even men go out for a run when they need a bit of change in the daily life. Best first lady, in fact my favorite Robin Wright went quite often, styled and pretty, and she always got the best thoughts or at least feeling calmer afterwards.

Not me, I’m not always feeling better after a run although there is no comparison whether if I skipped I would feel even worse. But I kinda believe so, so I keep on going. 

Legs so heavy.

Perhaps the time of the day, the terrain, the neighborhood I run in makes a difference. Today, we ran 3 laps around the island giving me such an enormous stress just counting the laps, and this is probably all it mattered. Busy complaining myself for the boring site, I forgot to enjoy the rhytmical steps, my power to run.

Will try another round tomorrow, I guess I’m not the one giving up my wills easily…

Born to run. 

And love