Just exactly by the time reaching one thousand followers I questioned the whole purpose of posting my days and runs. The reasons I was looking for. 

Somewhere somehow some motivational loss raised the flag for the whys. But than again, it just feels good when a company head sending me a message that someone sends her kisses from Berlin. Someone I’ve never met, nor really talked to ever. And then she just meets this hungarian man on an event and asks whether he knows me, and it just happens like that; sending hugs – stages of connection worldwide. Feels special.  Just a girl I’ve known from IG, a girl with whom we are active followers of each other for months. We encourage and cheer for each other through our posts, we get to know each other while commenting with emojis. Not unordinary, IG grabs us together with many. 

And my posts are all about this, getting together and meeting peeps with the same interest trough social media, in my POV.

Morning running with another girl met trough SM than in social runs, we are discussing the same. Running buddies we call the ones actually had met and talked more than ten sentences. This lady part of the Gökotta girls, a crew who made it from running buddies to tight friendship just to fight over an ultra relay and leave all the ‘women with vision’ movement and talk to each other no more. Me, being the bridge between the two parties, talk to all of them, I miss their togetherness, their girlpower full of encouragings. I miss their crew photos on IG. They still post, but solo runs dominate their pages.

Posting came uneasy for a week or so. No inspiration or creative thought, nor anything interesting to subject for the photos, tags, comments. Kept on running though like the good old days. The ordinary way of running. No watch, no phone, no selfie. Felt, it was too much to think of anything to say as it was just a run, no extra to discuss or comment on. So I held back, artificiality makes me and my posts fake I believe – it comes out as a pressured something, and I don’t think I could ever do that; it is either real, or no posting, no matter if anyone thinks otherwise; they must not know me really. No posterlife/nikebaby, nor any set up photos, only opportunities to express my feelings throughout the pictures.

But again, when the option to meet so many great people through the easy way; documenting some runs and thoughts it makes me feel I need to keep on going/doing/running. Cause it is really easy really to publish on IG.

Posting comes from the heart, like running does most of the times. Never a selfie for the selfie only. Never a well prepared post in order to reach decent level of likes. (Though some times it is a real mess I write about, same reason, I’m a mess means my posts are too.)

And this is exactly what I search in other IG users too. Nice to sneak into someone else’s life, even if it is only a setup I must confess, but it feels even better to see real people, real runners, real feelings and emotions around the world, and connect . 

And encourage and cheer for any race and practice they feel to be proud of or the opposite, when they feel low on willpower and face some meltdown. Because afterall, we are humans, not only runners.

One thousand followers feel great, but no doubt will I never post just to post. Sorrynotsorry. 

But connections in terms of getting in touch with others feel special, and I think there is the reason I was looking for when questioning my own SM appearance.

Person to person connections would be better naturally of course, but sometimes you just cannot meet everyone in real life. Running races worldwide give some opprtunities though, but until meeting in some race abroad we keep in touch online. And send hugs and kisses through the lucky ones actually meeting at events.


Future tense

Where will you run my daughter asked me while we were hanging out in our terrace overlooking the city under the full moon. Where do you want to go I asked back instead of answering and she started her long speech explaining every detail. 

She liked London, where the chipmunks were and the sitting in the top of red buses she said, she also mentioned Holland but that was due to the fact that she wanted me to read Jip and Janneke in dutch, telling me this while handing over the book. She doesn’t remember Sweden though was 2 years old at the time, nor Berlin where I went without her. She liked Japan, even though she only saw Nagoya through skype. I read one tale from Jip and Janneke, than she stood up, and looked over the city, while saying: mommy there is New York, pointing at the only tall building of Budapest. ‘I like New York very much’ she said. 

I told her my plans, I told her about racing in Budapest in the summer, and the countryside bit later some trail race I’ve done last at age 17 followed by a 6hrs relay with new found mates. Than Berlin-San Francisco-New York. 

At least I have plan, at least this oart of my life, I thought while going through the months of the year. But otherwise I’m stuck. Stuck at work at a point I cannot jump over, a state of mind situation, there is plenty to develop but carrier-wise seem to hit a certain level and nowhere to grow. I try to make it fun though, but I’m no fun anymore. Summer is here, and I just don’t feel like summer.

I make it summer though, pretend at least. Bikecommuting to work post waking up so early I cannot even believe I’m capable to live on so little sleep, to go out there and run. Riding my bike feels great, I listen, not, I sing along the songs superloudly I listen to while on the way, I love the feeling of fresh breeze while on my bike, my hair played by the wind, messing it up even more. Songs make me feel like I’m being filmed like a videoclip to be done. Previous years this made me so free and calm and happy. But I’m being robotic this year.

I try not to feel bad, I try not to feel deceived, an object to be used. I go run, but I wish I went more. But even during running I feel bored in a way. Some people keep telling me I have selfesteem issues, that I worth a lot, I really count, but I’m not. They are trying to be nice, some emphaty or at least sympathy from them I can feel and in fact this makes me feel better too.

Later I get back on my bike and ride home. Same as always, but this time, I just dont feel good. 

I keep reading to my daughter, and later when she is asleep I dream going on for a long long even longer run, because there I feel ok and free.

I wonder how long I could keep up with running, how long would it feel ok, and when the hate phrase would start if ever. I very much look forward to the hate period, and sometimes i feel like I’m already in it. Life is such a mess. But running for an hour or so it is either love or hate always.


Future is there, but what is it in future? This post has no end this time…

One more for the psycho self


 So the week went by, in fact weeks.

Kilometer-wise still over one hundred, can’t stop won’t stop kinda way. I enjoy. Being low key is optional,  missunderstanding is probably a must, it is not that I can’t stop, nor that I want not to stop. I have feelings, keep bugging me from inside, not an easy task to let something so good go, not that I could. Rest week supposed to be the week, still over a hundred, though I did skip one half marathon practice day.

Such an oximoron to keep a personal blog when one wants not to talk about herself in it though. Struggles of the outside world’s point of view vs me’s POV. None of them real I suppose. Just a POV obviously.  

I fall the other day, and it felt great, I love war wounds, I love stories behind it. Mine was simple though. After a hard run on the hills with the one I should be marrying if noone else wants me by the time I get forty – this is a deal we had made at age 17, we are now friends still joking on our youth wise-ness though, but he is married happily ever after and I’m glad, he is a friend afterall – I was to go to my side job my brain decided to take it, the so called nike runclub cityrun. 10k, easy pace. Some new peers were to come too, we made it a real fun night we thought, under the flag sign of my days run party repeat one. I was running late – not usual, my punctuality should be more famous than me for sure – because of Marilyn, my dear twin, oh yes, she shaved her back side of her head, i was told the other day, she started to look like me, but I don’t take notice, rather not,  although it is a personal blog, I’m not self confident enough to say things like that. I’m not what others think I am, lately I think I cannot express this enough occassions – deep inside it hurts, can you fvcking hear me?!. So, running late, arrived when peers were leaving, upset I got asked where they were heading? Seriously my confidence was lost somewhere totally, but gladly they were just pick up some beers than came back. Pre practice drinking already. I was chosen to go with the slow ones. So slow, I didn’t even have to pick up my feet from the ground, and this how I fall. Sliding through the flat surface of ground scraching my knees, my pelvis, elbow and even my cheekbones, as well as my watch and my sister’s fuelband. I loved the fact it started bleeding. Everyone got worried, but I loved it. Weird me. 

The guys picked up some more beer while we the slow ones finally arrived. i showed them my well deserved wounds, this is how serious I am towards running. Bloody serious. 

In the other hand, I feel enormously categorized to something I’m not. Humiliated perhaps sometimes. And not because of the fall. Running towards the finishline we accidentally run into someone I get to know through running. Someone that on real I don’t even know, he doesn’t even know me, and that is all ok, we can talk, no expectations, in fact. Felt good to be myself. After race drinking I also felt great. No expectations, no playing around, no harsh words, no snob acknowledging, nor conservative perspectives – all that I’m in love with otherwise. Them and me and some drinks. 

Take me as a turf, I don’t care. Use me as a triumph, do the cinicism, play around. Hate me and play me for being naive and honest, I do not mind. Cause I know where I stand, even if it doesn’t matter. At all. 


 There are moments when you realize this is the moment. And there are of course the other ones, the ones missed, the ones overlooked perhaps unrealized. Momentum, when things change.

We are preparing to a challenge something so incredibly unrealistic I always thought would never happen, and it seemed so far away so so. We became a team like overnight, crazy ones for a crazy goal. And than we just started to prepare, to build our bodies to the challenge, we do it in solo, duo, or with groups of people. We kept and keep running. And perhaps all the way along we became buddies, we talk too. And I totally cannot recall when the momentum hit, when the running mates phase became a strong word still but a possible friendship. 

I’m pretty harsh when it comes to friendships just as or letting someone in my heart more precisely, I keep a distance as long as I can in order not to get hurt nor dissapointed in people. 

Trust I need.

Sometimes I still misjudge, but that’s part of the learning I guess. But back to the point without losing the topic and move to the next one as I always do even without finishing the sentence, the one I cannot exactly recall, perhaps because it is something that was built up parallel with running more and more together. It isn’t the race the pace the elevation the hows and the wows we talk about anymore, we talk life and books and interests, we talk sensitive issues, we  start to open up a bit. And that is when I realize we believe in each other, in the other’s power and we won’t let each other down. Strong bond for a strong team makes the brain switch to believe to be the strong mind too. While building our bodies we accidentally started to build our minds and souls for the plan no more but a goal to achieve we plan to take together. And this makes me ever so calm. Even though I have no idea when and where it all began none the less might not even matter. Not forced, not played, all that matters.

And how the mind switches becomes the race more and more realistic with the time getting less and less for the startline nervous jumping around.

I will get nervous I know, I will get doubts too, I know that too. But I also know that all doubts will come from doubts of myself and never my team mate.

And if we are able to accomplish and finish we will always remember this as doing together never alone.

Cannot wait to run together, suffer together and be proud and happy afterwards together.
Ultrabalaton in 30 days. 



Kathrine Switzer, Boston Marathon 1967
Illegal Finisher

And this other one.
I got to have the chance to sneak into lives through social media. This is how I found this lady, the one really inspired me to restart running, but in fact her whole attitude what really caught me, the power and the easiness in her everyday and not easy life that came through her photos so catching my eyes, I wanted to live her life I assume. I checked her page on a daily basis to get some of her vibe, to see what she is up to, is she was doing ok. She occasionally posted running related photos, more and more as time passed. I wanted to feel the same she felt. The single mom, the working woman, the running mate, the kickass coppenhagen babe. Role model of a kind, though I thought some things I could do better perhaps. But in the other hand I was mesmerized how she always managed to stay happy and inspirational even though being single and with kids, working but still having time to run and be nice to every single person.
We started talking when she and her friends launched a movement, and they thought I was a good one to join somehow. I did and felt proud. We kept in touch on a really basic way. Until now, when she wrote me and asked me how I do it.
And I didn’t understand what she meant. She is the most inspiration for me, the smile, the willpower she broadcasts, I thought she must know better than asking me, the complete zombie I am being lately.
We project things into others. But in order to see her, him, them in true light you gotta look into yourself first. What you need, what you want need to be burried away, all selfisness and proudness must be left behind and than can be the object analyzed. True and naked perhaps, no allures, no playing around, nothing but the person itself in her or his pure values.

Time is pretty subjective in this case I guess, weeks passed since we started our conversation. Like hungry lions turned crazy elementary school kids. We have a common interest. We run. For different reasons perhaps, bit for the same goal, to feel ourselves in our pure selves, naked down to our bones and muscles if any, not in my case though. No muscles no problems, not exactly.


Why do I carry a dream? Why do I get out there and push myself so hard I cannot even remember how I got there and later got home. And in fact don’t remember what I’ve done last night, and just five minutes ago. Is this fvcking real? Feeling so high and so low? I want to spend just one day to find it out.


While running we talk a bit, not much. Everyone leaves the minute our run is over, we have a life, we must go. I do not only run for the run only anymore. I run, because I enjoy the company, more or less or even most. Do I know anyone, does anyone know me at all? Are they interested in my personality? Or am I? Would be so nice to meet people with a change of view and activity, to see them in jeans and or no technical shirts. See them in real light, no neon colors making their face look darker or faded even more. Talk about the same things, but not checking our watch for km average.

This lady reached out to me, once again she was the one, who wanted to know more than the average wants to know. More than PB-s, more than basic smiles. She was interested in me as much as I am interested in her, only she dared to ask me, the true motives, the harshness of eveydays, the life we live out of picture frames and fancy hastags. The real us. What is inside.

And I realized. I run not only for the fitness, not only for the body image, nor for the runner’s high, but to get to know pure souls with no labels, but lives.

Bang bang


Another day another way.
Too much work not enough run.
Too much wind not enough fun.

It is the feel, it is the smell. Feel like not writing. Silentmode. Perhaps said too much already. There are good laughs, and a smell I can still smell all that matters.

Turned to working mood, superhectic supercrazy. Loving it. Though could not make it to the runningfields. My fault. And the wind’s. I could make time to sneak out, but rather choose to be occupied. We are no brain surgeants. We entertain people.
Same same but different.
Director – the not so fun one – actually tried to joke around today telling how there is this drawing of a surgery room where two doctors stand over an openchested patient – blood is all around, no PG rated american movie at all – discussing how they are no filmmakers.
We are bigheaded proud people. Just because we think we make people help pass their free time. But in fact all we do is producing shitty movies over and over again. Some are watchable, most of them if make it to big screen at all you wish you sleeped through instead. At least it is dark in the cinemas. When only dvd release, you don’t even care to watch after torrenting. If takint the time to look after it at all.

We, the movie people are so ordinary however, with so ordinary problems, some of us hate working. I’m not one of us. I love being occupied, takes the pressure off of thinking. While thinking. Brain must solve all kind of problems. Ordinary and not so ordinary ones. Cliches of the star studded ones, time management of the star studded wannabe ones. There are no workshifts there are no unavailability. Must be present. And sometimes just looked to be occupied in order to stay on the scene. Not this time though, employees already complaining on day zero over overtimes, streched working days. Must deal with it.

This is no style nor run.
But I do it with style anyways.
If run had to be delayed.

And when the long awaited rest time finally arrives, both European and US fingers stopped typing, heads fall on their desk, the brain and body still on, at least for me.
But eventually even without yoga I finally fall asleep, and dream.
And dreams are meant to be wished to come true. Not this time, it isn’t a good dream.

Must redream.
Until than, workaholic mood.
No style no run.
Wish for both. And a good dream to come true.

Open up


and other things..

When started this therapy session called running, the plan was to go with the flow, and run as much as I wanted. No pace, no race.
Well, after a year of running, I’m pretty sure I moved from stage 1 to something else.
I pace and I race.
One thing remained though. Waking up in the morning so early that although its already almost bright and shine I prefer to go for a go. Morning running is fun. Finishing by the time traffic starts to jam, people start moving on the streets with nosmile, grayscale. Thursdays we go #likeagirl, with ladies coming up with the name gökotta girls. Wintertime we chased the sunrise, them taking photos of the colors. I’m not so good with sunrise sunset photos. Rather enjoy the view, romantic looking photos of the horizon bore me too much unfortunately. In 2D you don’t have the smell, the athmosphere, the touch of realness. Also, I took photography courses (several actually) for too long to know, that I’m more keen to take pictures of people, especially when they have deep thoughts shining through their eyes. Teachers and established photographers also say sunrise/sunset are only for romantic purposes.
Still, admit sunrise is pretty.
People are pretty too.
Not in the morning though, rushing to work, honking in their cars. Tough life of the everydays, eh.

And by 9 am I’m one of them. Irritated already, wonder what would happen if skipped running. So I prefer running pre work.
Even if work is pre run as well. One of those weeks when sleep seems a dream. But I never stop dreaming.

Early morning run is fun, and pretty useful when having a work schedule so tight. Seriously, springtime I prefer the run to the bed and too early is never too early.

Constant smile. Proudness. And a bit of calmness. To own my own day for the rest.

When running the morning alone, my mind having the game on so clear and harsh, still I surprise myself with loosing heavy thoughts to enjoy the feel instead. Which is such a good therapy. Feelgoodrun.
Also opening up to myself, seeing things in more perspective, what really made me mad just half an hour, it is all gone by the moment I pass the 3-4 km mark. Awesome. Wow effect.
Solutions, creativity hits me, like it comes 2am, but I cannot write it down so I just forget.

That’s about my open up morning run, instead of chasing the sunrise, I keep or make myself calm, and by looking out to the world to examine, I explore my inside meanwhile.