Wounds

  

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. 

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