Run goes on

Never admit, but there is no fvcking finishline.

Life and runs go on. Life actually interrupted by the runs that go on and that is how life goes on. 

It’s something weird going on. Firstly, I’m happy that coach is my friend rather than my coach. But than again. How friends were and are we on the friends’ scale anyways. 

Been experimenting changes in my circles around me, I wish sometimes things wouldn’t get so drastic hint hint, but than again, how much I feel hurt I can’t really put into words. It’s a mix of being misunderstood, selfish – all parties, and totally left behind. Deconstructive thought coming from this, amd I just keep wondering WTF?! Is it me? 

I don’t consider myself a good person but in general I’m prety human and generous and being nice. But to feel otherwise, ya know, it’s not fall that matters but how you hit the ground.  Was I pushed to the ground by accident or did I make it happen to be pushed? Cause I didn’t just fall, that is for sure. I feel an ok person, and still believe people geuniely to be trusted. That is whenone of the closest just slaps you with reality. 

Therefore I prefer to run my ways nowadays, not understood I prefer my speed works lonely. Watched by the construction workers all the way, they are everywhere on the island and along the track. This is Budapest. This is how I run. And I sweat like a shower and I kinda like it. Life goes on with these moments I never want it to end, though I cannot wait to finally finish with the sets of 400s. Still I add some more. And I wish to stay. Can I just keep on running and kerp the momentum with it forever?  I don’t go on lactate nor living hell. I speed as I wish and far from proudly presenting… Construction workers still appreciate. And I give no shit. All I’m worried about is to get back and shower and work and do the stuff I’m obliged to do. And face the hard truth called life. Would love amd ice cream, or a movie, or a good talk. Nada.

When I run for an hour or so I don’t care whether I’m worth it or not. I’m not worth otherwise. Logged in the books, put on a shelf, another been there done that part. I stride for happiness of a kind. That, where I’ve been there done that. Lady Speedy keeps telling me how I push with my ankles from the ground, that is something unique. At least someone appreciate the details. I love her being around even if far away nowadays. So I keep doing some repetitions. And accept my boundaries. Miss some early morning runs and coffees, so I speed and fartlek instead. 

I love running in intense heat, there is so much to lose with the sweat along, oh my gosh. I realise how much have changed over my restart phrase of runner’s world of mine. I’m back at the base to run lone wolf, and keep no company only when it’s a must crewrun. I once told bro I’m not good as a coach he still pushed me to try, but it turns out I started to like my pupils of a kind, of all kinds. They keep me busy off work out sessions too. Daily contacts, I really feel special they accepted me. He was again right. Though I wish all the good things would stay in my life combined, but I believe in faith whatever it means, I’m ready to face and rock and roll. 

Everybody run.

I’m not unique for that.

Everybody is unique.

I’m not running for that.
But there is no finishline. And I think I can’t be more upset and anymore about me being me and my road to being the road. I take the road instead with a sorrow smile and big heart because I’m grateful I have that one. And of course my ankles and legs jumping off the ground every step I take. Sometimes I take the bumpy road, often let myself taken away with bad thoughts, but! And there is a but, I smile too when my heart thinks and I think with my heart. Thanks for the great runs. 


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s