Duck 2016

  
It’s the 31st, I’m over with a hearwarming hiking in -7 an massive run @ 4:30 on the treadmill probably make the staff worried of my total insanness so loud I had to listen to music so at least I don’t hear my own steps so loud. Post sauna and a flute glass here and there made me dance in the room just to totally miss my executive benefits of eating bluecheese and more champagne on the 12th floor duck my ladyness big time. So I munch on some mozart kugeln instead just to avoid stepping out of the major fireworks town I can’t stand that so I rather refuel on some more bubbles instead.

How 2016 was and still is is a huge ducking Q, runningwise disasterous followed by some believe-in-me feeling leading to PBs but does it really count? Like makes a difference at all, chrono-wise I don’t care but getting the power I do care. 

There is no looking back. Not in the mood anyways.

2016 sucked, but. And there is the but. 2017 wise will be a synonim I wish, I advise. Wish I was wise enough to do so.

I rather keep being rad and smile when I dare to and receive and realize the good things around me. 

Rad into 2017 finally. And don’t dissapoint.

Runway no-way but yes AF

  
I’m pretty bad keeping my mouth shut, keeping my words on the decent level, in out loud as well in writings. I swear. A lot. In fact, always. Not the intellectual snobby way, but yes maybe. Don’t give a shijt really. Style2talk.

So, mornings at -4 at 6am fvck it I need some more sleep. Last month been that. But today. Was -5. So I got myself to the chair where I’ve put my running gear the last time about a ducking decade ago, and killing me softly I dressed up rapidly. Give me a break on the loads of layers, putting the cool AF Gyakusou new cap on cause I fvcking lost my absolutely favorite one in Berlin, fvck me, I wish I could say I gave no shit losing it, but cest la ducking vie, I ain’t no thing person to cry on missing one, though I dropped a tear and swore pretty loud at the Olympic Stadium. My good luck hat fvck me, but I had a better good luck tights that time, and just wanted to feel calm and easy, so really compare to how utterly shitty I could feel I took it as calm AF as could. 

Back to -5. And back to layers. Putting the mothafvcka new season hat on, and than the hoodie over it, and like a whole jar of echte japaneese muji ultrarich face cream so if my face froze, at least should be moisterized.  I put on the warmest of the warmest running coat ownwd by the Pro, ran by me, yeah you biatch a shield one, got me all cosy warmed up. NOT.

Cold really hit me, 10k and uphill not so much. Cest la fvcking vie, I still can run.

And by 8:45 I was under the shower,  and the hot water just really felt great. After a while. Just as the run. It felt great after. 

Gotta go tomofuckingrow again, it really makes a difference my friend. 

Moving is cool. And running is the new black. Or still black.

Mindgame

Going against tides or wind. Out of comfortzone we are so proud when talking running. Running-wise. But than again we strive for comfort in life. 

Thunder, tornado, tidal-wave whatever you call it. We are all good to set up goals, running for PR-s being strong AF. Than we just fail life or more precisely feel to fail life -because how do we know anyways- by unable to choose from the usual to the uneypexted or vica-versa. We are keen to go beyond whatever our body we think is capable of and just ducking proud to hit the limits, exceed and finish with digits we post to social media for some well deserved likes. ‘Omg you are unbelievable strong, powerwomen’, etc. We never post success/struggle of life on the other hand, like important ones, but keep in our souls. Because that is just life and involves no numbers, no PRs, everyone has a life and its hurdles. We post a selfie instead, with filters on for a confident boost. There is no interest we think of a metaphoric wind coming against us, to overcome and keep on going into it, or rather hide. We seek for excuses in real life to take the easier – subjective way to ease mind – but in running we are so fvcking proud to go against our on willpower.

I like to post about running-related struggles, I sometimes post massive PRs. None of others business either, its just me I challenge and succeed or not. Never post on dinners gone menace or feel extremely calm and relaxed, though true: others do. Sometimes I write blurry relating to real life struggles but never on point and sharp on the topic, just a mention here and there. Nor post about being extremely happy full with unrealistic yet real joy of the moment.

We tend to be afraid of not knowing or controlling future therefore stick with the conventional or go against the tidal waves, but we are also afraid the whatifs, the possible chances we miss out on possibly, though when we race we always go for the best and seemingly impossible. Wonder if we took life as a race anything would change in the mindgame.

Turning sick to face the facts, but closing the eye and brain and sometimes the heart too to accept or at least acknowledge those. 

This is probably why running is so enjoyable. You go you run, you feel the power, and post you congratulate yourself. Vs. real life there are too many options, too many outside whispers to constantly doubt our own decisions even before deciding. But I guess that is also a decision to listen to that instead of our own voice. Own heart. Rational as possible -we believe. 

But how rational is to start strong on a race even when feeling worn out just to finish with a massive personal best you would think you are not capable of.