May the force on the 4th was awaited but got me tired. Thursdays are a usual 3 a day runs, 2 I coach and run, one I simply run with the fast buddies. This means 5:30 am waking up, and start with the day by dressing to run attire, packing office-wise, and 2 for two more rounds of runs.
I usually get dead tired and question my ability to actually survive a 3rd round hushing the thought aside, it’s only a social run rather than a serious workout, though those involve either speed plays such as fartleks or intervalls, but on a seriously moderate level for me. Because I kill myself on the morning -2nd -run, going insanely fast compare to comfortzone. Guys pace the pace and themselves, they chit and chat while I try to keep the level of my breathing towards under audio voice of unbearable. I have fun with them, but still it makes me anxious and worried whether I could keep up. In the end it’s all ok, and I never look back in why I questioned my presence on the session.
It’s good to be around these guys and not think for a minute or an hour.
Otherwise it’s robotic mode.
Feel so heavy wishing to feel weightless. Need my wings back on. I feel needless. Left behind but perhaps never was carried anyways. I cannot take a hand usually, I must do it on my own, than I whine for being alone to deal with all. Myself.
The Fast neighbor started to explain to me the other day that I do have a presence of something unique. Stop. I told him, my least femme fatale way, he doesn’t know me, noone really probably, otherwise this would he know better.
On Friday once again I ran 3 a day. Felt like needed a bed asap but then again, friday night live is on, could not make it to sleep on time. History revisited both real and silver screen-wise. Suddenly once and always it hits how much I miss grandma. She was some great ladieness on her own, and I wish I was that strong. Like her. Role model. In all ways. Except she could not cry. And I like to cry it out.
Saturday I woke up early. Once we decided to watch the breaking2 together, but were never able to break our own barriers. I cry and goosebumps comes when finishline getting closer, I’m livechatting with the moustache trail guy who is there on the scene, and it makes it all so so so close, I feel I’m there I feel the determination and discipline, even feel the muscles so intensely wanting the sub2. What a wake up for a saturday. I keep all frames to my memory to revisit when I will race ever from now on.
Otherwise I keep up. Robotic.