Post half vibes

Story on how to cut 10 minutes a week after half in Berlin half, but still not enough for a satisflyed result in my soul and mind.

So, there is Berlin on foot and there is Berlin on race. I kinda know the city by the full marathon route by memory, kinda know the city by the cool streets the best stores, the landmarks of must visit by monsieur wong or the raclette restaurant I love, by the cheese plates elsewhere and by where we partied nights and days, some identical in terms of the above mentioned all as common. 

Half is just a half I eased myself into this, I can do it. Thought I.

Prayed to forget last week’s massive failure to run the lake half marathon, I had too much in that time in the mind actually. I so desperately wanted to do good with no actual and useful training to rely on, I wanted to stand on podium wanted to feel that some might be proud of me and look at me as a different person, as a lovable and less femme fatale way. Didn’t work as planned, but probably that came from the unconcsious conciousness, the too much thinking of what others think. Seriously freaked out on this.

And of course on the wind. Serious wind situation and I still started pushing myself to the limits at start with one of the Cs bro. Was his rhyhtm and stride length with the added hating of the wind, and by 2km I knew this whole thing can be dumped, my brain totally focused on the stopping all the way. In short nut so slow I finished and it and I sucked.

That got me in the state of mind to actually question all and everything. Berlin fail I took for granted. Fail on all I took for granted basically. My life my relationships with the world all got me into the big black hole. 

Nice start on the so awaited trip to Berlin. I start to believe that there must be an emotional attachment with Berlin running, I never go there with emptied mind. Usually it is really bad feelings except my last marathon there where I probably never was so happy in my life pre running races. This gave confidence, I knew now. Emotions and feelings matter.

This time, there was no confidence nor pure and calm happiness in me. This time, I was happy that at least we go together with bro&co. Cared none whether we talked or not, but at least we went. Weird but calm, retless but easy going, hard but ok, ambivalency on its top. Mixed thoughts lowering or rising my confidence depending on the moment, and there were a few.

Going for a race with elites is kinda unique for me as we prep so differently. I stick with naivity as pre-race routines I call, if one is missing I completely go insane. Beet-root juice, taking my mG and my special electrolyte drink the day before, having my gear photo-ed, listening to uplifting music, prepare to the unknown. Meanwhile the pros do something different. They do it differently, they don’t look at a race unknowingly I guess. I could feel and smell their different kinda calmness towards the race while it shiverred me how I can’t calm myself down. We eat pasta for dinner, I meet a friend while they had back to the hotel. Berlin on a different kinda saturday night. Getting back to base by 9:30, they all silent and laid back. Start to read a bit but must sleep to. Weird silence, weird non-verbal metacommunication and soon we sleep.

I leave earlier than the crew in tave day, they opt to run to start as a warm up, I take the u-bahn, don’t wanna risk running too much. Sit at the start-area listening to music, chatting with bro, and asking powerfully some gods to stop with the wind.

I almost miss getting into corals on time, but keep my mind shut to any kinda negativity, only to find out A coral runners are not allowed to enter the startline only 3 min pre racestart. German punctuality with italian hurdle jumpers getting over the fence we are stuck behind in. I’m jammed between men, not too many women I see around me, but off we go.

I catch on Leigh and we go too fast for the beginning. I feel weird, she is much faster but I feel more powerful than her today so I say goodbye around 5. She shouts gogogirl at me and I keep this in mind. In fact, I for one second cannot take my mind off the fact that I’m here and now. If my brain accidentally finds a thought I jump right back on I started too fast and the only chance is to go so I could make history on my own. I know I can’t I see my time, but I still push, from 10-14 I feel flow, awesome flow and enjoyment. 

Than I hit the vespa front of me trying to pass front of us. My thoughts were already in the state to accept that it isn’t a pb time when all of a sudden I run into to motorbike, which pushes me back but there are two more runnera on my back pushing to the vespa again and the theee of us finally move the biker and its bike to the ground. Organizers jump into the scene trying to get the mad man out of the street but he is mas and starts fighting. We quickly stand up – encounter did not take more than 20 secs- I scream fvck in hungarian and start running again. I take about 10-15 steps when I get back from shock now trying to decide whether cry it out now or try to keep my breathing at normal. I realize I started running at 3:50 pace. I force myself to slow down, my legs cannot take it.

I try to calm myself by saying at least I have an excuse not to pb, but cannot laugh it off, I’m no pro. Slowing down a bit to get my heartrate going and I somehow get back into flow by not caring much. Gave up probably. At 18 Leigh comes in superspeed telling me to go with her but this time I tell her to gogo. At 20, getting some confetti at the face I love for the goosebumps and crewlove, I know it is almost over. I realize I’m glad I did it or almost I’ll be doing so. A woman stops at 20.5 and I touch her back to tell her to come w me. I hold her hand. She comes for two steps, smiles at me than rather stops again. I go, I must go I tell myself, she will make it, it’s only 400 to go. 

Sub90 by a little and I was glad after a week ago total dissapointment I at least could do this. I see bro. Can tell how he looks at me that I must look dissapointed and it makes me start crying. I’m extremely happy to have him hugging me while I cry, and I just let it all out. It’s something about this is so calming yet I cry, sorrowed happiness. We walk out of the medal zone to my bag and soon we all back in normal life situation. At the time we meet the others it’s all gone, back into controll. 

But again Berlin had me some specialty and strong.
We are #geilballern

Sunday long

one more for the useless runs in marathon training

Trading LA Marathon for a sunday long in the superwind but hometown.

So, as said before I go and run, have a plan in mind usually but life interrupts. Usually. Two weeks to half, three weeks to another half and a month until my first M of the year makes me nervous, and I kinda have the plan – how I should be preparing for it. Not in shape, winter I moved all runs to junk, it was really about how to survive my constant coldness but worked well as train on my willpower and out of comfortzone situations. When I made myself to go, because usually I skipped running. That resulted barely noticeable miles in the logbook and really noticable kilos on my body, all awaited on me for the spring. 

Spring that starts tommorrow.

However I’ve been running for a couple of weeks now. Squeezed in some speed work too, not enough though. Long runs I wish I did more, and better too. Seriously not satisfied.

Sunday long again happened as a disaster. Thursday I was so happy to finally run with the fasty and drunk, but it turned out he gets exhausted at 5:20 pace nowadays. Wasn’t the best experience, I planned a fast fun run. It was fun and finally we talked and talked and talked for an hour after, but running gave no justice, totally I was out of comfortzone but not because the power of the run, but the thought of not actually training for my goal I’m still up to with really no reality in it. But I still believe I can do it. So, after Thursday I keenly awaited on Sunday long with the bros, though they wanted to run less than me, but at least I believed pace could be decent.

Started as usual, the three of us against the uphill and the massive wind, praying for the red light by the pastry shop to get some air and rest a minute before the 15min elevation. We than supposed to meet the crew, plan was to go a loop with them, about 10k, run back, and if I can still go on I would run some more on the island, 20 if no island run but would loved to runa 25-ish. Plans are there to be changed. Cse was worried on the rain on the terrain from last night, so we went all some more uphill on the asphalt. Was glad, I had my epic-s on, not the best for trail. All of a sudden the photographer trailman showed up, I knew he would come because we had some serious talk the day before about using my image on some cityposters without my permission, was pretty pissed and I think he knew and wanted to make up for it. He came and suggested some alternative route. I knew it will be massive he always likes seriously challenging tracks even in the Budai Hills, but we thought he realized we were with kvazibarki crew so taking it easier. Not. Sunday long quickly turned into a hiking experience, Cse and me seriously going crazy on fvcking up our training. Would of been a great fun and such beautiful view, but my state of mind is somewhere else nowadays, and I just don’t want to go into characters anymore to make others feel happy and confident. Watch showed 26k by the end, but seriously I ran only about 15, the rest was cursing and mud challenging hiking.

I need my run and my self put into action. I cannot go and just run and I cannot act to please others by totally minimizing my own wills anymore. I’m giving up on being the listener and understanding. It’s my turn now, otherwise I will seriously regret my upcoming races. Which still can happen anyways, but not giving a chance will totally ruin any experience whatsoever.

There are some plans in my upcoming runs, but I rather keep it  to myself and run it myself. Socializing can come later. I’m in no talk mood anyways. 

I will after go and run the single tracks with the crazy guy, and enjoy the beauty of the nature and the calmness. But first, I rather do what I feel like doing. 

The road…

The race itself is the celebration the road to it that matters. Words heard so so many times, but the road such a bumpy one. And all that it counts. Live and let die. But first run. 

Running that road. And the clock is ticking. I get over with the run of the day, perhaps two if time permits, zero control on what and how I run whatsoever, but does it really matter. The road is the important part, the rest is to celebrate. Life-wise. I turn to inner self, turn to some specialty I own, my soul. My soul that opened up to the clean to the unexperienced to the new. To believe I can do it. Race-wise.

Life-wise got the extrakick the new way the ‘believe in myself cause I believe yoself’ that got me to actually kick my own ass run-wise. It was something I than and there realized, appreciated my own way and was totally shocked in a positive way. It works. It worked.

I never feel alone, though I lot of times feel alone.

So many marathons and halfs, running the same circles though every road to seems different. Is it really?

I look in the mirror, and suddenly it hits, the realization, I look myself depending on the mood. And my mood comes from life as the moment, how I feel inside, how I behave with my body and soul. Happy I see my image skinnier and more presentable, I wear my jeans and running thights more comfortable, it suddenly fits. I get the confidence, because I’m believed by. I can wear my jeans the one I chose to wear, I feel ok, and don’t have to change 5 times before I finally start to cry menacly about how bad I look. The mirror is something of a reaction from the inside. Wow, 37 years of wise-ness arose. R e a l i z a t i o n.

Translating it to run-wise, the road should be comfortable in this terms as well, like confindent, still hard to survive the track attacks but still realize its beauty towards the road. Is that even possible in running terms? To actually finish up a shitty session dead and tired, like looking into the mirror to see myself ugly run-wise slow, but than again thinking the next day the next looking into the mirror will be better next run will be awesome?! Will it be?

Gotta stand up. Look away. And do the work, while enjoying it. 

Probably nothing new with these words, just writing it out loud.

Let’s talk about run baby

Let’s talk about you and me.

It’s been a long road. It’s life.

Must confess. I’m not ok. I started running to somehow get through then-current things. Like none sleeps overnight because I had a little one at a time having several waking ups through the night, was the baby age at first when she needed to be fed every 3-4 hrs, than her tooth started coming than she was in the age to wake up, etc. It helped me go through the day by sneaking out for half an hour. It was good to feel the air and the universe. I started running to be out in the field from being constantly on the field of always being responsible and alert. 

I’ve been lying. Running became a norm, a lifestyle for me. I’ve been lying, because sooner than later running gave me such powers in terms of self-confidence but at the same time it took it all. And running took my life over. There was running and there is running and the rest called life.

I have to admit. Running gives me something so unique I sticked with it. And it took my life at the same time. I’ve became a RUNNER, and I wanted to become a runner. I’ve been lying. Because I’d gotten addicted. In a bad way. I took run so seriously while taking it casual. I started to be attached to people who run, who gets high from running as well. Just like me.

Took it for granted. My friends became runners, my life all of a sudden changed its focus to run and the rest. Don’t get me wrong, I still had my other characters as being a mom, a hard worker and femme fatale. But all these got a prefix: running mom, a runner producer, getting calls on filmpitches but their first q was always : i hope I don’t bother, are you not running; can we talk business? 

It flattered me in a way to even confuse my state of mind even more. I was happy to once again feel unique in my characters. I was a mom, but the fittest one, a non-stop working film industry lady with a pretty cool job who btw. is running good as well, how cool is that. I was the girl on the streets striding sexy envied by other girls and secretly loved by romeos having a crush on me. Did it feel good? Yes. Felt special. 

I’ve been lying. It was all and everything that made and want  me to be a runner. In all aspects of my life. The SURFACE.

Life been changing constantly the last couple of years and I always ran to run it out, to deal with it. But life changing because of running as well. Or perhaps because of that. Gotta admit, I love running. And I can’t stop. Run gave me confidence run gave me a total self-esteem wreck down. Blamed it all on run to later run the blame out. 

But I’m not a runner. I’m me. Even though I have no idea who that is. Sitting on a forum with established runner personalities sharing our thoughts on running, experts of a kind, and I feel weird. Cause I’m not really a runner, I’m only doing the running for personal use. I sit in a cafe with a pizza front of me, listening with a bright smile how a runner talks about his everydays, and inside I cry. Who is lying to themselves I ask silently from myself and wanna ask loud from him. But I keep listening we became a strange conversation characters who really doesn’t talk about feelings, just impressions with no personal impacts; because he must be cool, he is a runner. We’be lying to ourselves and to me and to himself. There is no emotion added, only the taste of the pizza. Not even sratching the surface. He is runner but he chosed to be amorozo, with a lack of being one. He talks to me about runner girls, exes and to be future ones, he used to be my bro I remind myself, the one helped me reach some awesome PBs and honest smile on my face. And some calmness. A pro on the other hand, but only a pro in athletics. He is a runner, he calls himself, needs a constant feedback. I’m trying to be his friend, understanding really, but he is a runner and I’m not. 

A realization hits me than and there. I’ve been lying. Wanted to take part, wanted to be one of the community of runners. But I let it have for the ones same as the others. They call each other special someones going way back in the past, going and running, their opinion on his own lie is so much easier to accept than the truth. I change conversation and keep talking about the forum we had on running with men in suit with girls  dressing what is believed to be sexy. They wore colors, like runners wear on a run, look at me kinda dressing, and that’s ok. Unique is not ok it keeps resonating in me, I’m not even sexy among the runners, I wear black and simple but quality, no mini skirts, no extra sighthings on me. My sexyness comes from inside and I should be proud of that. 

We keep telling ourselves we are unique, still we want to be part of a community. I’ve been so focused on becoming one of them, the RUNNERS, I forgot to tell myself that I’ve been lying.

I must go for a run, to get the bad vibes out of the head I remind myself. But than I also remind myself that I really should do it for myself. And I can just seriously stand up and leave bro when I had enough of listening to something where words come out as articulated conversation with absolutely no meaning. He’s been lying. To his ex, to his friends, to me as his sis, to himself, he hurts me and possibly all of them while he is trying to be nice, too nice in fact. But at least he is really a runner. 

I go for a run. To feel good with myself. And try not to wanna become a runner anymore. Just someone who runs a lot. 

And I’m ok. Slowly getting there. In run you also compete unconsiously with others – there is one thing to go over yourselves, but when ego kicks in, you compare yourselves to others. I compare in real life too unfortunately, I’m a kid emotinally speaking, not a competition just checking on current status charts. But I go for a run now, and don’t give a shit how others might seem extremely nicer than me on the sutface, understanding and helpful – although on the contrary I might know unfortunately what the real opinion is especially with bro’s case. Never said a word on how hate-talk can come out about him at his back from someone he believes a special friend of his. I guess I need to go for a run to let it go to try to show him the real world with feelings and the ability to talk about feeling outside of running world.

I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone with my running, not myself nor my loved ones. Running gives you perspective and focus. But when running gets into the focus then suddenly everything starts to run out of normality.

Extreme running conditions in terms of psychological impacts are dangerous, finding the way back, a road to normality is a long and uneasy one, because one can always run it out, and I guess focus gets right back on running. 

Archiving the now too

Looked at my photos the other day, what had been posted on social media, frankly I don’t really have pictures otherwise, only my memory. 

I look cherished, happy and smiling. But that’s online world I suggest to myself looking at the mirror where this weird colorless face looks back. Probably the winter and the too much cigarette and prosecco, the way too much workstress, or maybe the mirror itself. But that’s social media I shout to my offline self in the mirror, while looking at my thighs, supposively runner’s body but not at least. Don’t like my mirror selfie. Nor my online selfies and groupfies of now. I do take them anyways, I somehow look at it as a controll and a diary of my face and my world changing. When at 22 my boss told me he takes a photo of his face everyday for the last 10 years I looked at him weird, why? But that was before I got to his age and before selfie became a norm, and I went home and looked through my old photoprints and realized I don’t have many pix to look back when I’m old. I decided to act on this, because frankly I loved to look through old photos with my grandma and relive her life imagining things into it. 

Looking back to my two years ago self I looked fresh and easygoing compare to my today’s self, though at that time I felt tired and worn out as much as I feel today. I keep taking selfies for the future and I don’t know whether this phrase of my life through photos will look good or bad. 

Still, I realize, I felt weightless two years ago. I felt power and joy in what I did. I was ok, though I felt not ok. And it isn’t a conclusion coming from as a reflection of the photos but I was in a different state of life. I was calmer, slower. Running-wise as well. I was happy with running my first marathon, was happy with my 3:34 dreaming but hashing away about 3:30. I was pretty sure it’s not realistic to go under 3:30. Same with the half. How happy I was with 1:36-ish times, yeah I was a bit better than the average, and could not believe anyone under sub90 are real humans an enjoy a run. Than I did run a sub90 and enjoyed. And because selfie, the word of the years became so prominent I cut back on taking ’em in special moments, and also because it just feels weird associating with narcissm lately based on all the academic-(looking) essays on it. And therefore I miss on lifemomentums to look back with my grandchildren when I get old. Why taking photos gone menace and therefore changed the whole looking at it big time? Why do I personally feel awkward on taking a shot with a friend or a loved one? I’d love to look back to it anyday to give me a smile remembering the moment.

This is how I missed my sub90, my 3:08 two times, my other PB on the Garda half. 

Selfies, twofies and groupfies shouldn’t be a sign of narcissism but a sign of appreciating the moment, to top the momentum caught on a frame, because clearly memories fade/change. I’s like to look at photos with a smile especially ones with a smile or vibe on it. Not to take me back to a special moment and feel nostalgic just to realize and reload the moment to acknowledge something extraordinary like a lifemoment to happen at that frame saved for the 2d world.

I don’t argue anyone trying to explain my side of the story with anyone telling me their opinion about me posting self based pix on instagram. If they feel it is too much they should stop watching. I need this in my life but not for the narcissist me instead for the evolution me, and when I grow up and look back I will be satisfied hopefully. Someone writes a life memoir book at 60+, I keep writing and documenting the now, so I won’t have to when I get old. I know, I’m already lazy. 

And forgive my rudeness but if allowed I keep taking photos of me  and friends and loved ones. Because they are important part of my life. 

That’s why

Dreaming on
Last night after an awesome – not so – fast session of 13km of progress run I never planned just happened I sat outside on the terrace overlooking the from far away seem calm and beautiful city, in my Isabel Marant cosy cardigan, something like an outside hygge with just the perfect breeze of feel of spring. I’ve got the power I felt, not in my legs though they were happily tired. But my brain got into volumes and was excited to go and run again in the morning, tempreature on the nice side finally, it was a will in me to get over with the sleep quick and go. 

Sleep started as no sleep, my tiredness made me sleepless, read than switched off the lights and on again to read some more. It is an interesting book by the way on nowdays spy-ing, shooting the feature of it as my daily work, still, in the night stillness I prefer no work, just cosiness. Read some more, than finally fell asleep with dreaming of my run in the morning.

Which came earlier than I could cope, with a workrelated email to be realized I won’t have much more spare time to marathon train in my near future anyways, won another movie to shoot starting almost inmediately. Thought of my team and how tired we already were, seriously worn out of 18hrs workshift for seven days going on for almost 3 months. How will we cope and how will I get my training done for ’45’, which obviously is my only will, and my own body my own decision, my own belief. Recharge I felt last night, but the morning felt like there was no electricity going into charger at all.

BUT! Since I purposefully left my work attire at the office on that precious thought that I would start the day with running anyways I had no choice – how to lie to your own self front of your garderobe not having anything other to put on than your running gear – but start the day with running. The weather sucked, like yesterday’s spring just turned into fall again, sleeping through summer overnight, but my body alarmed this could not be the truth I was still tired AF. Tried with another lie to getthe day going by highfiving myself to win another major movie to post produce, but in fact I could not care less. Carrier, such an absurd – really like to succeed but along the way it’s all stress and sleep deprivation. Adding to this a massive dehydration which I only suspect though I’m not even thirsty. 

This is how thursday started. Heartached, tired and as a success business woman in her leotard and all-nike swoosh. Feeling cheated by our customised training and motivational program I decided to do some speed work. That worked well with the warm-up getting the pace down to 5:20 to 4:55, but as soon as hit the watch to lap my first interval I knew i shouldn’t. 3 steps in sub 4 min speed and I gave up.

Like I gave up on be hard on myself. I decided to finally appreciate what others say about me though I still don’t believe them, but kinda understand the difference now between boring women and me Bori. Selfish, I still think what other calls healthy selfesteem. Celavie.

I go for a yoga today instead of finishing my morning run, because I stopped half way, and said goodbye to an old crewmate from pro-life. And that is all ok too.

Because afterall, everything is OK, just one gotta cope with the ok-ness.

Miss my bro sometimes, but that is only little part of the picture. Otherwise I dream while I miss running hard and unconditionally, feeling the vibe and the muscles sore afterwards. I miss spring and I miss having only one layer and the sun touching my legs and bare arms finally. Missing racing, and I actually can’t wait to finally do strong on the next big M. For my own will for my own pace to improve. Same same but different. 

And what I don’t dream on, but really bothers is that I should really put some professionality into my workout regime, it seems ad-hoc. Like to be my own coach but since my brain and heart is elsewhere I don’t seem to work it out myself…

Work in progress

Given goal is one thing maintain its road is another. Extreme winter for cold hearts if anyone has it and cold body. Though my warm heart makes cold fingers more cold. Shiverring occur both good and bad. Weather-wise it’s all bad. All other shiver is downsized to another level, and must stay away from. Want my spring back. No wind can stay I admit.

Managed to go high as 80k this week in order to finally START my effing marathontraining for the 45 with Dzsi really just around the corner. Make it even more challenging with extremes like still being cold at temperature 0-ish. But than again no pain no gain.

First lsd of February is also done finally, went with the Gourmet hoping for a slow pace for a long slow run, but he did pretty ok, even better than his marathon PB pace while I turned blue by not fueling any pre-run. Nor drink, and that was a bad idea. I train on no food mornings no news; like the empty stomach feel to kinda tease my mind to feel weightless in a way. No drink on the other hand just made it from flying to dying, but I still did it. Saw Dzsi too, running his way to our challenge, which is kinda calming, we have a road to run his dreams, I only help with the support.

But this support means a lot anyways and means serious work.

And work in progress.