Working it out 

 
I run. Where to and what from?

I miss.

I need to progress.

Why? What for and where to and from what?

Progress run of the day turning to a big big cry. Veteran did good, in fact he did great, he at the age of 38 found something to change his life. He is running. Not for his life, nor for his benefit, but for pleasure and self acceptance. Worth. Run makes one feeling worth.

I cried instead. Not that I’ve failed to run the appointed practice for the day, I cried because it was time to let it out. Working it out. The Veteran was well front of me, us precisely, I had a voice who pushed me, in this case a real person, someone who seem to understand me, who understands us. But doesn’t understand us. We suffer.

We chose to suffer which all of the above is not a suffering state, still, something different, something out of the comfortzone, rules of lives, lifestyle, choice. Out of comfortzone perhaps. For a minute, for a week, for how long?

I had to stop. Progress run is something for the braingame mainly. Little voice inside battles with the legs, the wills to do it, and the partner of the moment who pushes to go through too. Partner did a great job, I still had to stop because the tears just made it unbearable to push more, in fact to push any. The Veteran on the other hand flew away on the asphalt, I took a moment to realize that before kept on crying.

I’m not sure I’m strong enough. I’m tired, I’m all of a sudden losing my never overflown selfesteem even more. 

But than I calmed down and continue a bit, I settle my breathing, all of a sudden I realize I’m around good company, the partner is there because he likes me as a person, and not as a woman, not as a specified bodypart, he understands my struggles, my way of thinking, my fragility covered with strong appearance. Veteran as well. And Vampiri, the girl who joins us to make it a gang of four. Four human with issues to deal with theough running.

None of these peeps I’ve known for more than a year. A year that brought so many memorables and wishes for the future. Grateful for them and their input for the memories. 

I cried in the middle of my workout today. And it felt good. I kept pushing after and it felt good too. Surrounded with great people. That feels awesome. Thinking feels good too. Pushing hard would feel better, but survive a progress run session would probably feel the best.

Though, feelings are not facts.

I need to keep pushing, I need to keep being hard on myself. I have a dream. Dreams perhaps, but one can be achieved on the short term, other needs progress.

Berlin, here I come!

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S p e e d

 
Braingame on

about speed training, not for me, I said no thank you.

The reason I stopped my pro athlete life.

The track, the intervalls, the fartlek. Fvck me. I’m no game.

But today was finally the day to begin with. I’ve been pacing/coaching speed training for about two months on Nike wednesdays official, I enjoy it, as I don’t die in it, trying not to sound too pompously big-headed but heartrate never go above 90, this probably says it all.

__________________________
2x 4x 800 – 500/300 – 3:50/5:10/k
warmup and some cooldown at 5:20
Total of 15km
After morning 10km at 5 min/km average
__________________________

I already had big battle in the mind by the morning, I was gonna fight it alone I thought but than again I’m not powerful enough. Me against myself. I’ve been there done that kind of way the little voice tells me over and over again. 

Setting up a rundate so my struggles would be voiced out loud if needed, not that I would not talk and scream to and with myself id I ran this alone.
But running with a Kosovo veteran gave me extra issues to deal with, socializing above all. I do easily run with M anytime, easygoing we are getting like besties lately, or the ultratrailboy, though I tended to always give up the serious work with him, or the superfast talking daddy, or anyone I used to and still run nowadays. The Veteran is different however. Getting to know his story of life made me feel insecure in terms of wow effect, could so easily talk to him before, now feeling a little spoiled blond next to him, makes the words come out harder. His life is a novel id not a bestseller book itself, and I always thought my life was full of ups and downs and miseries, n o t ….

It is only run I eased myself all the way, but it wasn’t just an ordinary run.

It was speed work, fartlek, I hate so much. I was so anxious like I was pre any races I really went out for. Berlin my first, NY where I thought I would be flown away by the wind, Nagoya, where I was running with the smile hut still nervous pre start. 
My first serious fartlek session after 18 years and just one day after I got a phonecall from my old pro life’s old coach if I wanted to join my old crew to finally take it serious. I told him I would think about it, feeling flattered, him knowing the answer is a no, but seriously I wish I could so his practice on am everyday…
I wish I took some Xanax I was so intensely nervous. 

Less than an hour and a half of practice I kept calming myself. I would probably gave up anyways without the Veteran, but after the session i was rebirn and feeling full if not the fullest after so many days of lowness. 
I know I will try to find excuses to drop out of any speed trains, to avoid serious workouts, but I would never ever miss the feeling of accomplishment afterwards. The really worth it feeling. 

I’m so overly excited and happy to be able to do what was told to do! I fvcking did it, and I’m so proud! 

Taboe

 
Sometimes the unspoken things are the most important ones in life..

“What time will you make it home?”

A question raised every single monday night, before every single tuesday early morning run. A question that needs to be answered with the same words: by 7:30 am.

A usual scenario, when a run becomes a guilt factor, when run cannot ever feel good, when time is ticking, when it is a rush, when I know I should just do it differently, when I should just be home instead, but in order to be home I have to be away from home, to go for a run, stressrelease. 

Running as a taboe and this is how I loose faith in my me time, my freedom minutes. This is how I completely loose it. My smile. My life.

Since when running became an activity should be avoid to talk about? A non PC word, something that is handled as badly as getting home as a teenager way after curfew way too drunk. 

I’m losing my willingness towards running these times, if it is such a struggle to get out there for an hour of struggle, what is the use. Feel ashamed to raise any runrelated happenings, like it is some kind of a taboe.

This morning I still went for a run though I did not enjoy trully. Three hours of sleep through the night is just not enough, but I cannot sleep. Haven’t really slept long as much as 8 hours for months. I still went for a run. Crew was there to meet and greet and I ran a little with them. 2k together, than headed home to make it a total of little more than 10k in sub5 min. Cannot find my fast, and this must be something to do with the lack of sleep, motivation, interest lost, no appreciation. Even the most hardcore runnerbuddie whined on not being in shape this morning. Not that I could catch up with his pace anyways.

I turned to pilates lately too, not that it creates less guilt, but at least it works good for the tired legs.

My feelings towards running is subject to change though I’m heading for the put of comfortzone speed attacks. Fartleks and intervalls and track session to make my mind switch from wreck-me to wuhuu-me! 

Time for a no talk but run phrase of my life. For a change.

Taboes are taboes, run is my must!

Self

  

as a woman

There are times when to sit down even if not sitting down literally, instead setting up the table for a breakfast, finding some color pencils for the little ones. No matter how busy still getting out of the routines makes the mind shift, even when completly occupied with the usual, the so called routines, some realization might occur. One weekend perhaps, home away from home that feels good, that seems relaxing makes everything clear and transparent.

Getting into a spiral caused only by myself because of circumstances, social requirements lead to the way. I kept going without any reason and challenge any goal; real ones. Blurring my own self to focused, filtered images, the ones I trully am, however without my vitality, liveliness, the true self perhaps. Chasing some ideal weightwise, comparing myself to others, their athletic legs, their outlook, their style and all through this time I forgot to be myself. I tried to live up to social norms, the ones I was told and heard was normal or at least acceptable. I still failed to do so. Somewhere deep down I stayed myself no matter how hard I tried to hide and blur.

I’ve been chasing running times, kept myself full time busy, always rushing from one place to another to meet my own developed schedule, to be there on time for all my overcrowded schedule appointments, work, family, pleasure-wise. Restlessness turned to be tiredness, a constant compagnion.

Running has been a rush as well. Squeezing in time for a practice, guilt increased by the growing counts of rolled eyes, because afterall it is not a norm to run that much. Blurring the main drive to run even, I ran more and more or at least set impossible goals to reach in finishing times. 

I decided, because a weekend so vaulable makes the mind clear to run one more for the chrono, one to really push some limits, get myself out of comfortzone, because I once unthinkingly said it out loud, and I just cannot swallow it back. But not only for that. I also want to show myself to value myself to getback on the right track to appreciate myself. 

One more major for the pain and gain, than I wish to enjoy running. 

Because as a woman we immediately get into the spiral to live by the norms, not that we don’t wish to, but if we so keenly wish for why do we whine about it. Why am I considered a woman instead of a human being? 

I can run as a woman, and this makes me stand out among women, I’m fast in women’s league. So I like to be a woman in this perspective. Am I proud to be a woman? No, I wish to be proud for what I am, for the individual I am. Inside and out.

Even when I have a bad day and don’t have a perfect smile, I don’t feel like cleaning the house up, leaving the toys in the living room how my daughter had left it, when eating that chocolate after 8pm.

Harmony, comes from the inside, never from the perfect thighs or flat stomach, no matter how good it feels to have perfect legs perhaps, it leads only to momental happiness. Which counts by the way for the state of mind on the short run, but i rather start focusing on the long one. There will be always someone leaner, prettier, more fun, or better as a wife or a mom to compare myself to, but what is the positive in that other than constantly checking measuring feeling low? It is all about self acceptance in order to sit down and relax, ENJOY.

Never wished to be flawless, only perfect on my own norm level, no ideal whatsoever just my own ideal. I run because I enjoy, more precisely, I used to run to enjoy myself, but I lost focus and blurred myself in reality, which lead to run for something I cannot really put it into words. 

This is the time to get back to enjoy my own self and my own ideals, stop comparing myself to others in reality, I’m an individual after all with strings and feelings. Strings can be pulled by others, but I rather be pulled by the ones I would pull for myself anyways. 

Weekend worth of thoughts in the positive side, affecting the willingness to turn to the things really worth in life, although I tend to get lost in the details. 

Weekend worth to set the goal to get back into my focused self I like; to start liking and appreciating myself for who I am and not who I would like to be.

I’m not a mom or a producer, a cultural snob or someone’s lookalike, a runner or a runner wannabe, a girlfriend or a wife soontobe, and ideal or a pacer, a friend or an enemy, an annoying girl or the chick envied by girls and want for a quick round by guys only, but all of the above mixed into me, SELF. 

Weight

 
It is not about the weight on your shoulders you hold, but the one comes from the food you intake.

Coincidence when sitting down in a café right next to an ice cream illustration waiting on a running buddy running from a running practice, but being late. Coincidence of annoyed by the fact that he is being late so answering some work emails are optional but time-saving while listening to some music. Coincidence, that this place should bring up memories of a joyful day when played around a bit imaging a memory wished to be actually happened in order to become a memory; and at this point of thinking about it Hiperkarma’s Ures comes on the playlist, although I did not remember to ever saved the music at all. Coincidence that the above mentioned memory play became a memory afterall and this brings a slight smile to the face. These are weights on the shoulder. Coincidence that however, there are no coincidences.

A woman with amazonic figure sits next to me, while I sip on my coffee with guilt, I drink it with full fat milk. She casually sits down in her high heels, decent office retire, talking on her pink covered phone, casually eating big bites of her enormous white bread croque monsieur. This version of sandwich is almost as big as me, she put like half a kilo of ketchup on top. I’m pretty sure she would leave 90% on her plate. No way she can eat it. 

But she can. In 5 minutes, no drinks by side, than she stands up, tall and pretty and walks away. Flat stomach, confidence, statueasque. I, on the other hand, stoop even more, how she does it.

I don’t seem to eat much anymore, I work out a lot on the other hand, constantly running, or thinking about running, but that doesn’t count. Keeping a food diary helps though, keeping track on what gets into the mouth. Haven’t eaten chocolate for almost two weeks, not that I ate much before. No pasta, no potatoe, no junk cookies I used to not be able to live without. Nuts, watermelon, apricots, and some cheese. Wine, sometimes, occasionally perhaps. Bananas, in smoothie format with diverse fruits. And coffee.

Weight seems apparent on me, and would not move any direction, or at least does not decrease any grams. My body holds back all fuel. We always talk about running plans, but what I need is an eating plan. 

Coincidence that I listen to the song Üres (empty in hungarian) while feeling full. This is no coincidence, only metaphors. I do feel empty while feeling full too. 

I think of ice cream, but have no appetite. I don’t really have appetite, and I still eat though. Summer I never eat. Wonder why my body holds back all the food I intake. 

They say I’m stupid, I didn’t gain any. That I’m ok. But I’m not. Feeling good inside and out should not be a coincidence but a state of mind.

Weight I put into my mouth in the form of food puts weight on my shoulders. Wonder which one is heavier.
Wearing denim on denim, oversized to hide the weight on the body, oversized Celine sunnies to hide the weight stressing the mind showing in the eyes. 

Nightrun to neverforget

 
Too much coffee we go wild 

It had been a while to race and in general to enjoy any runs on the go. I still had week around the 80k-s, not that it was hardwork, it just happened. I’d promised myself every single day to start the marathontraining, but I lost the power and my fast along the way and it just didn’t feel like getting into schedules as I would loose or more precisely would permanently loose full interest.

Getting chubby, gaining weight, attending social runs, feeling low, but than again feeling high when crewruns, june went by pretty quick although when then and there sometimes the time just stopped, and would not go on, especially when time will show phrases were said and I just became restless in mind instead of legwork. 

Otherwise I felt and feel still pretty good in shape, kept the legs going so decision was fast an easy to enter nightrun half marathon race. I did it last year as well, didn’t push it that time, rather enjoyed and still got 4th place, which of course post finish made me pretty angry on myself. Less than half a minute disconnected me from the podium. I thought I could face a nice revange on myself this year, although I doubted any position or shiny medal at the end, but the revange part I was planning on. As usual, the day before any race I got so superstressed, first of all realizing that my last pack of powerpowder I gave to the ultratrailboy, who by the way got sick of it and me too. This meant no routine in the preparation I do pre every single race. Anxiety arose, I had to drink a commercial product, pretending it is the same only cost like hundred times more. Second, which also forming to be a regular before races a nice little fight became ever loud in my head, due to some ignorance I later when calmed down took as no ignorance, but the only choice could be done – personal matters do have an effect on performance. #racinglearning.

Since race was a night one, day was a full one before. I had to eat, I had to go and entertain my daughter all day long and again I had to eat and got high on caffeine kicking my body. Wasn’t tired though, even with three sleepless nights on the row, which in fact made it easier for a nightrace I tried to ease myself. 

Leaving my extremely moaning daughter at home did not help to set my mind to racemode, and it started to tend to take the run as just another run. Meeting up Mini, her constant nailing me with possible and/or target finish time, final position etc. I just became more and more nervous. I closed up into my thoughts, afterall revange is a revange I thought, I must play against me for one aspect, but I also wanted to run myself out in order to leave some of the stones I’ve volunteraily grabbed and carried behind. I wasn’t mad of life anymore, in fact I was surprisingly calm, with the meaningful thought of rational solutions might not, but real decisions made in the head really works for me. Too bad, I thought for a brief second – but than again, yesterday’s full of tantrums turned today’s ease to a special in good ways feel. Closing myself up it remains my own little secrety thing with no bad feelings. Forgetmenot flower shaped up in vision and I smiled, loving is a good thing. But this made the race a bit useless in terms of running through the memory lane to the finish line for the finishing line. 

Mini was by my side and a friend of her as well. We hit the road together after I ran uphill on crippled cobblestone in the dark night with hardly a streetlamp to help. They joined after 3 km. and it was fine and ok. For a while. Sooner than later I realized this race I rather wanted to go alone, enjoy the silence, the loneliness, the only noise coming from my own feet hitting the ground and my loud breathing from tiredness. After much hesitation I asked them to speed up and leave me behind. Mini probably would have made 2nd or 3rd place anyways, and I just wanted to live through the race once again. 

How social I choose to be on workouts so alone I like to be on races I guess. Completely loosing myself in my thoughts, that is when I can run, perhaps not in tempo, but with joy, and that is all that matters. Crossing the finishline with dissapointed face realizing my time worse than the split of my last marathon I felt angry but releaved too. At least I’ve done it. Acquiantces showed up, and I inmediately knew: my own reaction right after any race is so essential for my own self, I need feedback to my brain, and this needs to be done alone. #selflearning

And this is why I probably like abroad races more, because I have my own final moments as well. However, it was just too good to have Mini and all others there to support and trying to cheer me up, although I was not upset, this is me on any given race right after finish- never satisified, felt great to have them to be by my side, to feel the crewlove and co. Thankful and even more thankful. 

This saturday I cried once again as brief as I could without anyone talking to me. I cried of releif and I cried of anger and emotions. But soon I had to pick up myself and be the social me again. Later even more. Partying with Tom Hanks crew I felt tired but happy I did it. Both the run and the party in one Saturday night.

And again I got 4th. This time the girl was 20 meters front of me. Another revange against myself to develop for the future. 

News galore

 
Talking about races and babies.

San Francisco here I come. I hope at least as fall will be busy as it can be. 2 marathons in a month with a half in between, Europe, US. Up til november, the schedule is tight and it makes me smile. Love plans, or at least running related ones. 

Runner baby to welcome seems so extreme on the emotional level, how cool is that. Waking up for the news made me smile. Have fun in this world little one!

Crewrun turned mini race yesterday resulted in PB. Not mine though, I have no idea about bests on a practice route, but probably I’ve done it too. Feeling proud, but breathless afterwards. Stress based stomach-ache run turned smile for the finish. As much as I could anyways, but at least an honest, acknowledgable one.

Tokyo marathon is now open for registration. Too far away yet so tempting. Will sleep on this one and see if smile brings entering another M next year.

Texted a coach today. So at least I have plan what should be done for the desired finish-time. I can still decide later whether I wish to follow.

Eating. Plan is needed. Bought a book in order to learn the theory… And possibly follow in practice. Part of bodylearning, mindlearning.

I woke up happy today. A new life was born, and that is awesome.