I used to go to high school with him, we played around some, but for some reason stayed friends even though we lost connection for years in the past. But somehow we managed to stay friends and occasionally we go for either a dinner or a coffee. Or a run.

He kept running while I was not. He was fond of my high school chrono and athletic life of mine, while I hated it. He runs with me sometimes when time permits. Runaholic turned workaholic. 
I usually don’t know my running plans before the night before, although I tend to opt for a lonely run lately, barely manageable. It is always a chat here and there requesting a run together, and deep inside of me I prefer the company, becuase I have no other time to meet and talk with them; I also ask mates to join me. No matter if it is a friend from the past or an emerging new relation based on running turning into a possible friendship, although I have doubts in its true value and need more proof. Or time, because time will show everything. Runshippers to call them right now I would say. But with him, we are really friends. 

Saturday cannot make time for a run, we go for a walk with the daughter and meet up with Timi for an ice cream, and I wish I could scream. Emptiness. Full power on psyhologycal effects of a day off. Have no time to run even a little, but we make it to the pool to ease the heat effects. Sunday I go run. We play runracing with the daughter, she has the best posture and strides when doing so. But it will be up to her if she wants to transform to a runner. No push on my side. As far as I’m concerned, she would be good, but hating the practice, maybe when she turns wiser around 30 she would enjoy the run itself – just like her mother, probably genetic.

Sunday I run. Waking up early to meet the friend as agreed in chat. I always have full social running diary to attend, and this is good. Runner socialite me. Running laps before meeting the crew to run more laps. Visiting every street pump to hydrate, and I’m running with the crew co-founder and keeping up a decent chat. We don’t go beyond scratching the surface, avoid some topics, we cannot be friends life is a mistery though I accepted the fact. We enjoy the talk however, or so I hope, so I guess. I wish sometimes with some or the one we could be friends, missing the talks I could open up in deeply, hundred percent.  20km passes by ease, I think I forgot I was running and the heatwave, I simply enjoy. Other company shows up, the birthday boy, I continue to run without really looking at the distance, we keep talking. It is like running but not running, instead having a coffee, while running. Conversations, we both hide something to the outside world. He is being funny, me being extrovert to hide our introvert self. Runners’ thoughts, deep opening ups in a single long slow day. I hit 30 km mark. Should be enough for the day, though I could keep going. I run in my first marathon pace, yet so far to my desirable next one. No gels or fuel this time, just the water from the pumps. Little proudness spread through my veins, I enjoy the running. Easyness. Although I feel my legs when stopping, but I know it is normal. I ran over 30km.

Postrun we meet by the pool with the crew, my daughter seem to like them, eating their ice cream, preferably over her own one. Sunday midday funday. Heat is on, and the pool gives relief. Conversation moves to crew mates old running records, serious numbers, unbelievable achievments they had done; the past, I enjoy and listen the anecdotes. When I ran professionally I never kept any moments as I simply hated it, but through their memories taking me back to the days I wish I could enjoy my athletic carrier just as much as they did. They were taking it as lifestyle, going to practice after school. Every single day. Their life started when on track, opposite to me, I felt running practice was something to survive in order to go to a weekend race. Race I enjoyed, sometimes, sometimes not. Running was something I had to do; although it was my decision to do, and to stop as well.

Getting to know runnershippers by spending time with them is exciting. Friday night party kinda way, some more relations to the social life aspect. Runners do party, but I wondered how. Drinking, obviously, a bit of salsa dancing, and girls putting on their high heels, short skirts, leaving their hair untied up putting on some make up. As for me, I went as usual, LBD with some cool sneakers, no makeup, hair in a bum. My style. Conversations/relations while drinking. Some off topic, but run related girl talk too, some deeper chatting with the photgrapher making me so sober, and feeling hurt a bit, so I moved on to some marathon plan talk with some others. Enjoyable night, runners are human afterall, even though having the weird obsession towards sweaty workouts and ruined runningshoes. 

Different people to observe, however they all call themselves runners. How related I feel to them based on the conversations we make before during or after running. The more I feel related to, the more I feel the urge to run with them. To keep talking, deepening the relation from runners to individuals. 


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s