Archiving the now too


Looked at my photos the other day, what had been posted on social media, frankly I don’t really have pictures otherwise, only my memory. 

I look cherished, happy and smiling. But that’s online world I suggest to myself looking at the mirror where this weird colorless face looks back. Probably the winter and the too much cigarette and prosecco, the way too much workstress, or maybe the mirror itself. But that’s social media I shout to my offline self in the mirror, while looking at my thighs, supposively runner’s body but not at least. Don’t like my mirror selfie. Nor my online selfies and groupfies of now. I do take them anyways, I somehow look at it as a controll and a diary of my face and my world changing. When at 22 my boss told me he takes a photo of his face everyday for the last 10 years I looked at him weird, why? But that was before I got to his age and before selfie became a norm, and I went home and looked through my old photoprints and realized I don’t have many pix to look back when I’m old. I decided to act on this, because frankly I loved to look through old photos with my grandma and relive her life imagining things into it. 

Looking back to my two years ago self I looked fresh and easygoing compare to my today’s self, though at that time I felt tired and worn out as much as I feel today. I keep taking selfies for the future and I don’t know whether this phrase of my life through photos will look good or bad. 

Still, I realize, I felt weightless two years ago. I felt power and joy in what I did. I was ok, though I felt not ok. And it isn’t a conclusion coming from as a reflection of the photos but I was in a different state of life. I was calmer, slower. Running-wise as well. I was happy with running my first marathon, was happy with my 3:34 dreaming but hashing away about 3:30. I was pretty sure it’s not realistic to go under 3:30. Same with the half. How happy I was with 1:36-ish times, yeah I was a bit better than the average, and could not believe anyone under sub90 are real humans an enjoy a run. Than I did run a sub90 and enjoyed. And because selfie, the word of the years became so prominent I cut back on taking ’em in special moments, and also because it just feels weird associating with narcissm lately based on all the academic-(looking) essays on it. And therefore I miss on lifemomentums to look back with my grandchildren when I get old. Why taking photos gone menace and therefore changed the whole looking at it big time? Why do I personally feel awkward on taking a shot with a friend or a loved one? I’d love to look back to it anyday to give me a smile remembering the moment.

This is how I missed my sub90, my 3:08 two times, my other PB on the Garda half. 

Selfies, twofies and groupfies shouldn’t be a sign of narcissism but a sign of appreciating the moment, to top the momentum caught on a frame, because clearly memories fade/change. I’s like to look at photos with a smile especially ones with a smile or vibe on it. Not to take me back to a special moment and feel nostalgic just to realize and reload the moment to acknowledge something extraordinary like a lifemoment to happen at that frame saved for the 2d world.

I don’t argue anyone trying to explain my side of the story with anyone telling me their opinion about me posting self based pix on instagram. If they feel it is too much they should stop watching. I need this in my life but not for the narcissist me instead for the evolution me, and when I grow up and look back I will be satisfied hopefully. Someone writes a life memoir book at 60+, I keep writing and documenting the now, so I won’t have to when I get old. I know, I’m already lazy. 

And forgive my rudeness but if allowed I keep taking photos of me  and friends and loved ones. Because they are important part of my life. 

That’s why

Advertisements

Dreaming on

http://data.bloggif.com/distant/user/store/0/9/e/b/ab7b33b4e25a8244cbecf9ac69d1be90.gif
Last night after an awesome – not so – fast session of 13km of progress run I never planned just happened I sat outside on the terrace overlooking the from far away seem calm and beautiful city, in my Isabel Marant cosy cardigan, something like an outside hygge with just the perfect breeze of feel of spring. I’ve got the power I felt, not in my legs though they were happily tired. But my brain got into volumes and was excited to go and run again in the morning, tempreature on the nice side finally, it was a will in me to get over with the sleep quick and go. 

Sleep started as no sleep, my tiredness made me sleepless, read than switched off the lights and on again to read some more. It is an interesting book by the way on nowdays spy-ing, shooting the feature of it as my daily work, still, in the night stillness I prefer no work, just cosiness. Read some more, than finally fell asleep with dreaming of my run in the morning.

Which came earlier than I could cope, with a workrelated email to be realized I won’t have much more spare time to marathon train in my near future anyways, won another movie to shoot starting almost inmediately. Thought of my team and how tired we already were, seriously worn out of 18hrs workshift for seven days going on for almost 3 months. How will we cope and how will I get my training done for ’45’, which obviously is my only will, and my own body my own decision, my own belief. Recharge I felt last night, but the morning felt like there was no electricity going into charger at all.

BUT! Since I purposefully left my work attire at the office on that precious thought that I would start the day with running anyways I had no choice – how to lie to your own self front of your garderobe not having anything other to put on than your running gear – but start the day with running. The weather sucked, like yesterday’s spring just turned into fall again, sleeping through summer overnight, but my body alarmed this could not be the truth I was still tired AF. Tried with another lie to getthe day going by highfiving myself to win another major movie to post produce, but in fact I could not care less. Carrier, such an absurd – really like to succeed but along the way it’s all stress and sleep deprivation. Adding to this a massive dehydration which I only suspect though I’m not even thirsty. 

This is how thursday started. Heartached, tired and as a success business woman in her leotard and all-nike swoosh. Feeling cheated by our customised training and motivational program I decided to do some speed work. That worked well with the warm-up getting the pace down to 5:20 to 4:55, but as soon as hit the watch to lap my first interval I knew i shouldn’t. 3 steps in sub 4 min speed and I gave up.

Like I gave up on be hard on myself. I decided to finally appreciate what others say about me though I still don’t believe them, but kinda understand the difference now between boring women and me Bori. Selfish, I still think what other calls healthy selfesteem. Celavie.

I go for a yoga today instead of finishing my morning run, because I stopped half way, and said goodbye to an old crewmate from pro-life. And that is all ok too.

Because afterall, everything is OK, just one gotta cope with the ok-ness.

Miss my bro sometimes, but that is only little part of the picture. Otherwise I dream while I miss running hard and unconditionally, feeling the vibe and the muscles sore afterwards. I miss spring and I miss having only one layer and the sun touching my legs and bare arms finally. Missing racing, and I actually can’t wait to finally do strong on the next big M. For my own will for my own pace to improve. Same same but different. 

And what I don’t dream on, but really bothers is that I should really put some professionality into my workout regime, it seems ad-hoc. Like to be my own coach but since my brain and heart is elsewhere I don’t seem to work it out myself…

Work in progress

  
Given goal is one thing maintain its road is another. Extreme winter for cold hearts if anyone has it and cold body. Though my warm heart makes cold fingers more cold. Shiverring occur both good and bad. Weather-wise it’s all bad. All other shiver is downsized to another level, and must stay away from. Want my spring back. No wind can stay I admit.

Managed to go high as 80k this week in order to finally START my effing marathontraining for the 45 with Dzsi really just around the corner. Make it even more challenging with extremes like still being cold at temperature 0-ish. But than again no pain no gain.

First lsd of February is also done finally, went with the Gourmet hoping for a slow pace for a long slow run, but he did pretty ok, even better than his marathon PB pace while I turned blue by not fueling any pre-run. Nor drink, and that was a bad idea. I train on no food mornings no news; like the empty stomach feel to kinda tease my mind to feel weightless in a way. No drink on the other hand just made it from flying to dying, but I still did it. Saw Dzsi too, running his way to our challenge, which is kinda calming, we have a road to run his dreams, I only help with the support.

But this support means a lot anyways and means serious work.

And work in progress.

45 

  
It’s a really really simple marathon training plan. Only useful just a few of us, in fact customised to two. More in fact there is no sepcified plan just a goal. To achieve. Yeah. 

And because spring checked in today, only if temporary and only as a joke from weather mother to fool us around I skipped running. Instead took a bite of daugther’s massive goffri at Liberte we went for breakfast and stayed ’til lunch cause as said the gofri was massive, and the live music so awesome it just gave the vibe. But, that also along marathon training is part of the plan, the fuel plan. To eat, amd to eat good. To feel good. That’s something I’ve never ever was keen to look out for, but one being confident AF as myself to run this M a good one finally, one gotta do what it takes. And it takes planning in fooding too. Courage I also got. Probably the temporary sunshine that makes me so ready so ready, but I feel ready. 

And I also wanna be happy about it, wanna do it, and wanna remember it, like even telling my grandchildren my grand story, as higlights of my life. 

Along with cutting out some foodgroups of my not-so-diverse mealing system I also put some in. Like beet-root I lived on in August. Once worked must keep the habit. And start or continue yoga. And start steching. Finally. 

It seems simple. 

For anyone except me.

But such a strong goal I must be strong too. 

Dream come true effort begins. Not tommorrow, but today.