Po pul roce zase na blogu a tak jenom kratke fotoshrnuti, jak nam ta zima strasne rychle utekla:
Zarijova vyzva skoncila a ja znova pristala na druhym miste. Tentokrat mi kilometraz pekne poskocila az na 200 km, za coz jsem moc rada.
Rijnovy kick-off probehl dnes (18,5 km/1000 m vertical) za husteho deste, takze zase dobrej pocit.
Jak se tak prodluzujou vecery, koukam vic a vic na internet, popijim vino, ukusuju sejra, chroupu bramburky, pak si za to nadavam a kladu dalsi a dalsi predsevzeti. Kilometraz se sice zvysuje, ale zadek mam furt stejne velkej. Tenhle kolobeh je vazne nekonecnej. Mozna to proste musim prestat resit. Par inspirujicich odkazu:
Mirna Valerio – Fat Girl Running
Julie Creffield – Too fat to run
Sarah Robles: @roblympian (americka olympijska medailistka)
Mountain winters are cold. And long. And full of snow. So far, my idea of living a healthy life around here materialised in endless cubical meters of snow shoveled :-). I have been working a lot, physically, that is – but there was significantly less time for running, skiing and recovery. As a result, my favourite pair of jeans shrank. So did my mileage. At the moment I am struggling (and not winning) the battle of 100 km a month. But I do not worry too much.
We did manage to change our life entirely and as a family, leaving the city lights behind, we are happy here. The two smallest family members spend loads of hours outside each day (e.g. searching for what the Easter Bunny left behind…).
And so I work, run, ski, bike, I count less (no Garmin these days!) and most of all, I am enjoying my life with my girls because facing the elements here I get to realise every day again and again that the rest does not matter at all.
Happy spring, everybody!
Cyprus, Austria, Czech Republic, Bulgaria, The Netherlands… there are days when I am almost loosing the track of where I am. Time zones and temperatures change and so do apartments we stay in. And the grand mothers and other people around us… The kids don’t seem to mind too much as long as they can play and RUN around.
And funny enough, RUNNING is my anchor to this chaos as well: Despite the heavy logistics of our autumn moves, I am out there more often than ever. And I am enjoying every mile to the max.
Early misty mornings, late wet evenings, flat windy stretches, muddy hill paths: This year, I run them all.
I was supposed to be in Plasy today. My 2014 ‘racing season’ would culminate by the trail 1/2M, a race that many of my fellow bloggers were attending… which promised some serious beer drinking and a proper after party. As we all know, with two little children there is no way to stick to any plan…
Since I still wanted to run today, I forced myself out of bed at 6.20 – my usual get up time on week days – and gathered my running gear. I have been fighting with myself lately – somehow I cannot find the proper motivation for longer runs. My usual midweek 7-8 k’s are fine but whenever the run should become longer, somehow it does not feel the way it used to. No idea why is that as my body does not send any negative signals, quite the contrary – no muscle ache nor any other pain at all. Is this laziness? Or am I getting too old?
To my credit, I overcame my laziness and poured fresh water into my camelbag, grabbed some fruit sugar and within 5 minutes I was outside the door and moving. My plan was anything above 12 k, ideally around 20. It was a lazy morning with mist in the valley and I felt like the only person alive. As usually, the first 3-4 k were a sheer torture but little by little my face lightened up and after half an hour of dreaming about my warm and soft bed I realised that I was actually enjoying the run. At about 8 k mark I picked some fresh mint for the tea and turned back to run home. Nice and easy 16 k but still, the joy wasn’t quite there. No idea what to do about it.
Oh, and one more thing, especially for Leona: as I was looking for banana’s in our local supermarket, this is what I bumped into (the tiny letters read: “Power seeds for the ascetic runner”) – and yes, I admit, I couldn’t resist to buy one package to experience the magic myself.
Ok, ok, staircase, exercise, healthy food… but what about good old running? Yes, it is still there, whenever I can find an hour of spare time. Most recently (today) eleven kilometers of perfect solitude, a little more than an hour just for myself, my thoughts, hesitations and dreams. I, me, and myself in a harmony. At least that is what I am striving for – with fluctuating levels of success.
The most important thing is to keep trying. To go out there, get moving, fight back. Just like some of my dear blogging friends write in their own blogs, as a reminder for themselves on bad days: It is important to NEVER EVER give up. Not ever.
Where am I going? I don’t quite know.
Down to the stream where the king-cups grow-
Up on the hill where the pine-trees blow-
Anywhere, anywhere. I don’t know.
Where am I going? The clouds sail by,
Little ones, baby ones, over the sky.
Where am I going? The shadows pass,
Little ones, baby ones, over the grass.
If you were a cloud, and sailed up there,
You’d sail on water as blue as air,
And you’d see me here in the fields and say:
“Doesn’t the sky look green today?”
Where am I going? The high rooks call:
“It’s awful fun to be born at all.”
Where am I going? The ring-doves coo:
“We do have beautiful things to do.”
If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You’d lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You’d say to the wind when it took you away:
“That’s where I wanted to go today!”
Where am I going? I don’t quite know.
What does it matter where people go?
Down to the wood where the blue-bells grow-
Anywhere, anywhere. I don’t know.
I was still a teenager when the Berlin wall started to shake. The eighties caught me young and naive, eager to discover, to love, to live. During the week days, when I was not training, I was probably spending an evening at some folk & country concert in one of the clubs at the outskirts of Prague. During weekends, I was hitchhiking all over the country to hear my favourite singers and groups. I had no money, no fear, no stress. Somehow, I always had time to do the things I liked to do. I had many good friends (and I am blessed I still maintain those friendships) to travel and to discuss ‘life, universe and everything’ with.
As I was never much of a drinker, I could talk and sing and spend all night at a camp fire to see the first sun rays shining next morning. Back then, I loved early mornings just as I do now.
Twenty five years later the setting has all changed: two babies and responsible job to focus on – but the mornings are still the same. And the below lyrics is still valid, too:
“Vsichni, kteri ve svy krvi stejnej bacil maj, tak se v techhle zvlastnich ranech potkavaj.”
So when Richard, a fellow blogger/runner posted these pics, I went out there on a fresh morning myself:
When it comes to running, March was lousy. 123 km (compared to 200+ in January) is nothing to write home about… But at least in the long run, I crossed an important line: 3000 km since my first Janathon.
When I started running in January 2012, little did I know that this ‘temporary’ activity would last this long. That it would last during my pregnancy all the way to the seventh month. That I would be craving it in the ninth month. That it would come back to me just weeks after delivery. That the running bug would get me with its endorphin, the virtual and real life friendships and more…
But here we are, 3000 km further. I am still on the road and even though I am not faster or slimmer and I am not sure where will it bring me, I am already a better person… thanks to running.