Perspectives

  
Visiting someone who we are going back to long long friendship but lost track for some years, getting on a train for hours to reach somewhere where you still need a car to finally arrive to destination with the secret hopes of leaving home as thoughts behind for days and to run this beautiful countryside with no attacking dogs on the streets. Hopes only. Meeting the new husband the 6 yrs old daughter who I last had seen at age half year and to have my daughter introduced who she had never seen but on one recent photograph.

Waking up with the birds for a run to end up the day with empty bottles of wine and some great talk.

She tells me and her husband that I was always the one who shared all of mine with friends who looked after all of us, cared for us who had always thought of others before my own self. 

My psychologist tells me I should be a bit selfish finally and focus on myself. Don’t place anyone before my own self.

I go for a run. Cause I need my own run. Is it selfish? I focus on strides and thought and the homeless dogs along the way. I can’t leave my big-city mind behind nor my big-city small girl problems. Raising a question with hoping for an answer but the answer must come naturally, and it might came already, but it is either (methinking way again) me having zero self-esteem or me having confidence, but afterall it is totally not me. I’m no origo. Like I said to the Veteran running those hills in heavy rain the other day. He is no origo either. We are just at max points of interest. But at least I wanna be a point of interest to some special few. A dog approaches meanwhile and I slow down, be nice and decide the safest to finish a decent workout is to run around the church garden on the hill having exactly a 400m loop around. I’m not sure how it affects religious people though, using their temple for training. 250 uphill as the fast part and 150 down for the also fast part as dogs still bark and countrymen stop for the unordinary view. I’m a stranger even though I keep saying hi to everyone, it’s common here. 10 laps. Killer workout, but I love it. Useful for marathon training? Doubt. Willing to know the answer rightaway? Would be nice, but what’s the use? It will turn out in a way or another anyways.

We are heading to the lake with the girls now, on bikes in a countryside tempo, no hassle, no restlessness. Feels weird. 

But may be it is normal. Maybe that is why people don’t excercise running on a daily basis, instead they say hello to the neighbor or the neighboring county’s neighbor and get into chats about their points of interest. No labels, no designers, even no world news.

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Pain

  
Remember previously I’d wrote about progress run no thank you, never.

Well, again never say never. After a day and night of cry which was lead by an NRC event event when you must act calm, confident and loose all ego and Self a’la Freud, where one must simply cope with something never want to experience but once again it must had been seen and be there, like a Jodi Picoult book when it changes your life completely after reading it no matter how hard and so everyday life based the story is, like simple and terryfing AF, and kinda feel like it would never gonna happen to me, but than again it could just happen to everyone, and how seems easily she write about it and than you get to the end and it’s never a fairy tale nor a hollywood ending but something you would never guess and after you are just reborn, this is what happened on wednesday minus the reborn part. But still you want to share it with someone you believed to be the best even the one and only and you cannot and you just cry.

I’d also wrote about the Veteran on this blog previously. He is the guy been there done that kinda way, life hitting him a way he took hard and harsh but he was reborn by running just as me reading sister’s keeper by picoult quite some time ago (i can’t read her anymore since my child was born and it does a stronger evidence, the fear of reading, rather than her becoming popular lately). 

I want to help the Veteran not loosing his confidence in his only thing he does and gives him confidence simply running. Running changed his life once, and he believes running makes him live gives him life. Nice I would say, and I completely agree with his statement. I live on the drug of running as well. Even doing progress runs lately, not killing myself but still progressing. Wow, done it. Nowhere near anyone’s pace, but still it is a progress to finish a progress run. Veteran lost confidence lately, he could not keep up with the best of us and the best of me. I didn’t even attend the pratice I was so anxious to participate on the first hand to rather run it alone. Alone, so I could still feel some success. Veteran had a bad day and could not keep up. I accidentally after finishing my workout saw them speeding. Was gonna jump into the bush to hide from them but they did not seem to notice. Some seconds later I saw the Veteran walking, and I knew something was up. With all my unrelated fear I ran up to him to question him. And he burst out in tears and a relatively bs explanation. Didn’t believe him that the problem was how non runners laughed at him for running. Must not be the real reason I’ve thought but didn’t say a word. Kept calling him to join me for runs, which lead to silent trail sessions, and to the Wednesday I and him probably would skip now. He was so low and possible self-sorrow I wanted to give a hug or a slap. His daughter and wife joined him, and I kept being a pacer myself instead of really keeping up with them. But soon things sped up and he passed out. After conforting his head for a while I told him I take care of the daughter. We set the whole entire NRC race on the benches w the daughter on my lap holding me so tight, me trying to entertain a little girl I’ve never met while she is in pain, and while we looked at runners in another pain running 400, 800, 1500 in their best. 

All different kinda pain. The Veteran, the daughter, the runners on speed runs. PAIN. I wish there would be none, but in running pain is inevitable sometimes, and the beauty is in it. Cause this kinda pain gives a good vibe after. Pain that is worth for the progress. Pain, like giving birth. Extreme happiness comes after. I wish Veteran could focus on this too, rather than letting himself eaten by the monster of unhappiness. I also was in pain, cause I wanted to call a friend and explain and talk about it.

Like the next day that lead to my progress run. Morning coffee under the sun with my girl. After an hour of what seemed like a normal easy time, I ran to my car crying there are topics I cannot possibly relate, she is my best, but our morals I different. Not saying mine is any better though. And than came the pain onto my chest, because at this point I just called someone and I could talk my pain out. Instead this time I kept the pain to myself.

And this is how I ended up running a progressive tempo run the afternoon. 

Meeting with coach for once again some easy 10-15 k, we ended up circling on track increasing our speed and decreasing pace by every km for 6k. That pain. For the last 1 k, and than the last lap, last 100m, and up until the finishline, that pain was real and phisycal, and I prefer that pain to soul-based ones. Because once it is finished I get happy and proud. 

I need to build up a system not to shut down by the words like intervalls or speed work or fartleks. I need to realize, that I can beat anxiety by actually doing the feared workout rather than build up super hate against a practice even days before the actual workout. We found a solution for this on the short-run with coach, simply by not letting me know the practice plan before-hand, I’m facing the workto be done minutes before starting only. Also my coach is not my coach anymore. I explained him the pressure it gives me having a running plan which I need to follow by word and speed. i could not cope. Nor the Veteran I think but hopefully it will get better for him. So I quit following plans, but our friendship with coach stayed so we are now running buddies and this way I’m better with speed runs. So much for the braingames!

But phisycal pain like this lifts me up really. And I would totally accept running progress runs for a week if I could ease the pain for Vetaran’s soul, however I keep calling him and telling him I don’t feel sorry for him, but I feel his pain, which he must loose. Get on track and if you’re pain-addicted run some mile in progressive speed.

42 days til 42k

  
It isn’t what it seems, I’m not in the league of marathon runners at all nor I do serious workout. I run for fun. Even intervalls. 

I’ve found the beauty in speed work lately in a modified version of it al least. I do speed change but don’t get my heart rate go over my head and nearly into the sky, probably nowhere near lactate nor any killer workout. And therefore I enjoy. Even feel reborn after a session. And it does quicken my excercise spent time at least even if it doesn’t quicken me. 

I feel proud because I finish. Because when I ran in group and seriously soon had been left behind I did not feel any catharsis nor accomplishment, just the worn outness of the practice. I might lie to myself by doing this never to give my 100% but I do feel I give 99 or even 100. And I kinda feel relieved after, and proud that I got out there and fought for it.

42 days til Berlin. Starting my marathon training in an extreme late last minute I feel like a total idiot but at least not a wreck from tiredness and all. May be a new way to face the big M. I love running. I love intervalls. Well, after. 

And I can’t wait for Berlin. Though anxiety arose pretty early this year, and I hope to keep up and cope with it. Until than I mantra Berlin. My way. My runway. 

And yes, it is still exhausting to run 99% effort.

Step by step

  
Looking at my apps I’m using I’m slowly getting back to a daily run. Not fast nor any special.

Step by step. I don’t cry 24/7 anymore, I occasionally smile too. Alone too. Listen to music. During and off running too. Step by step.

Not that I have dreams nor a chance to run something good in Berlin. But this will be my third time running there. Will be different as all marathons are different. Step by step, and after millions of steps there will be a finishline. No dreams about that just a hope. It will be real for the third time. Too.

I’m a runner I guess to all and everyone not running out there. I fink you freeky. And I like you a lot. 

I guess I’m a runner than.

With no plans only dreams, no dietetian only appetite, no cross training only the love of step by step. With no will to call myself a runner only to have a body of a marathon runner, or a 10k olympian, or anyone with lean and long legs. Dream on. But there is the step by stepping. And once in a while the dancing. And going crazy. Uh. But now step by step.

The faster you run the earlier you finish. That’s the dilemma. Perhaps to some. I ain’t got no choice. Not running is not an option, fast running neither, I’m no fast to runners around me. Agree. Disagree. How fast is considered to be fast, how quick is quick. Can never be fast enough, there always be faster better even prettier even when running. But nothing compares to you. Merci for the living step by step. 

Calm steps by step. Quite the opposite required for a good pace. Gone for a run. 

Intervalls even. Fartleks. Progressive ones no thank you. Not yet. Something has changed on the road I’m taking, but accepting my own craziness does not lead to going crazy on progress runs. Head is there in a way, heart beats calmer but still heavily, step by step. Heavy legs too, loud music on the speed ones done alone so I don’t feel left behind. Girl, uh baby. Gone for a run. 

Nothing extraordinary, just run. Whenever wherever. 

#sorrynotsorry

  
The world of hastags.

The world of smiles.

Is this real? That smile is real. The cried out eyes as well.

But in real you are sorry sometimes. Even for yourself. Somewhere over the rainbow if. But this time it’s no sorry, the self is just one part of the story. You feel sorry for all the loss, and it’s neither the emptyness nor the loneliness, the missing of the good o’ times kinda way, it’s the missing relatively easily put into someone. Special cause I’ve made it special. Long lost speed I’ve only dreamed of kinda way. Perhaps all a projection. 

Although I miss the year ago I also miss the lost opportunity, but missing is only part of the game. Feel. That’s the major all-in. And that is the reason why I still get up and still go. I feel. Robotic in most of the times, but occasionally I feel myself again. Running. After a year of questioning and answering the bad answers, believing is something so powerful I rather ran away from it during, now regret all -noregrets hastag is not my way. With my lost speed with my no power. Going low into valleys even caves of self-questioning, for what and how far? Love is love, cannot run away from it. Run is love. Anxiety overtook experimenting so easily could have been tracked by my cognitive science knowledge. But was paralized while running 400k-s and more per months. I fvcking feel, and that gives no s*it just makes me feel myself proud in a way. Overreacting oversensitively while doing what I gotta do, play hard order harder, give no-s and why-s professionally. Controlling is basically how I grew up, but I also stood next to anyone feeling questioning themselves. I’m a freek mainly, who knows me know I would move buildings for loved ones, they know me for my attitude and sensitivity my questioning of myself all the time. And my other side comes as harsh and hardworker, guess what, if you’re not my friend you see me hard as a rock. Also me. 

When it comes to running, I give both. I cry while I push hard, and I can’t push hard enough so I cry. It seems I control my strides, but I know better, I’m not hard enough on myself. When running. I’m hard on myself any other circumstances, so hard I usually can’t stand myself. Learning phrase comes with realization. Wish to swap the playingfields and accept myself but push hard while running. 

Limitations. Fancy a hastag of unlimited limits, or nolimits you name it. None of me. I know I have my boundaries.

Woke up like this. Yes, took me for a while, but really waking up never felt harder. I wish to be forgiven, for not having my self as my best friend and relied on someone I love. I can’t complain, got my role, and I play it. Not really. Get along with it, as forgivness is not something you can get with a gratis tabula rasa, but with remaining feelings. Got me? Not quite running related but comes in mind while running. 

I know it isn’t all my fault. But I also question this a lot. When crying when laughing and when controlling.

I’ve calmed down and understood some things in life. I’m still restless and myself, but perhaps more myself over a year ago me than the recent one, being an individual. I still cannot overcome the fact that I cannot turn back time, would probably also use it for a great and mad PR on a marathon, but seriously, love is something cannot be taken away from me, and while missing the kissing I also keep going somewhere I have no vision of yet, since I cannot even fast forward time. Fvcking amateur. Can I get a hastag for that?

Be mad at me. Be. Happy. Be. Believing. As I am too.

Hastag. Unlimited honesty. 

Dadading

  
It’s not always easy to get up stand up, it’s sometimes shamefully violent turned from a pretty easy and ongoing understanding. How’s running? 

Hitting the ground falling on the asphalt kinda wake up call it is only couple of weeks until Berlin Marathon once again. Place where my first and most meaningful big M happened. 2 of a kind really, M-s are special, worth the struggle or not.  Def worth. Dada.

Trying to find my fast -not so much- I found my old/new mantra BERLIN. Two years ago I kept a bit more on the word count: there is no wall. Especially not in Berlin anymore. So while coach vs me we both are screaming on the road: you can do it, keep on going vs I cannot fvcking do it, l hate this shit at around 4-4:10 pace for 2×2000 I mantra inside of me with my calmest sexy voice BERLIN and I just do it somehow and I feel dadading AF.

Girlpower or how you call it, I cry inside a river but I keep or more precisely revisit my willpower I’ve never met really. Cry me a river since NY marathonwise but keeping faith in special bond and running partner in running crime to just realise running is a lonely one even if it feels good not to feel the lonely runs lonely. Nor the social runs.

Everything happens for a reason bullshit is not my kinda answer but dadading makes it a pretty obvious choice for myself. M is soon, and cannot wait to meet again even though it might take a bit longer than my personal best. Fast was never lost but rather never found, I keep on mantra and dadading and try/maybe to run some speed ones. 

Too late neither is my kinda answer. There is never too late. Because everything happens for a reason. Ha.

Dadading myself to enjoy and guess I still love my M.