That time of the year again, walking the city midnight in sleeveless LBD, unique. Rays shine  through during the day. Warmth. Solo runs. Sweaty ones.

Morning I wake up with no alarm going off for the first birds’ singing. Unique. Cleared mind of a kind that’s really something I cannot deal with, it’s not the clearness, rather the emptyness that hits. 

Sometimes it’s a go go for a run, fresh air still, but already feeling the power of the sun. That is something powerful, not me. If I raced with the sun how much it would kick my ass with my PB dreams. That’s how little I am. 

Kipchoge is little too, but something bigger like the sun. Naaah, nothing to compare.

Runs are runs, days are days, summerdays are more extra with strawberries nowadays kindly awaiting for the watermelon season. Let me introduce myself: my name is watermelon lady.


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