Sometimes I wonder. Wonder about how life would’ve turned out if I was keep running the track at 18, and wouldn’t quit my runner’s life chosing to be a teenager instead. If I went and took the scholarship I was given to either UH where I spent my afternoons with Carl Lewis and my bestie April – who actually made it to Atlanta as a softball player even though she and also his brother and my bf at the time were just awesome at kicking ass on track- as a junior at high school in Houston or UCLA where I was also given a chance and a massive scholarship. But instead I wanted if anywhere but to New York University with a hope of majoring in film but there was no option for a runner nor my parents could or would pay for it. And so I quit running for no reason other than I didn’t feel like giving a tiny bit of fvck anymore and any of my power to become a pro.
I wonder how today would be if I was to become an athlete by profession, in Hungary. Minority ran at that time, and though the crew was awesome I gave up on pushing limits rather I went to party with them. I was fast and strong by birth, talent so I was called but did never was willing to stand out by striving for a result or any fame. That’s me. Run for fun is something different, I cared none for any hard work. Stamp it as a teenage phrase but obviously I’m like that. Except some cases, I work and push hard, but I guess regularly I’m fine achieving goals within my comfortzone.
Some years later here I am, with mixed thoughts running a lot and pretending to be a coach for some. I do my best, I love my ‘kiddos’ but what do they know! I’m not a coach, nor a runner.
But here I am once again, running a 220km ultrarace with two other girls, we are a trio, and in the end we win. I supposed to be happy and proud. I can’t write about my feelings just yet, I’m overwhelmed with so many thoughts. How I felt not prepapered and in fact I wasn’t. And there was the wind. This time it was really a wind that everyone felt. Was killer. I was neither prepares for that nor the rain in the middle of the night. There were meltdowns among our team as well. And I couldn’t really help out cause I was tired as well, was not willing. I hate myself for that. I was happy to talk over the phone telling how we were progressing and asked how they were, this gave me some power. I got in a verbal fight few times after. And cried and felt bad, and really low. I was told really bad things and I told awful things. I ran a lot and I ran relatively fast. We all ran fast. Did I give my 110 percent? I’m not sure yet, but I feel I didn’t. I smiled and cried and felt worn out a lot. I still need to digest.
But we won. And we did really good as I hear back.
We won and I have mixed feelings.