When I decided to blog, I wished that my writing would be an inspiration for runners and readers; I wanted to share my experiences and give others courage to start running, continue running – or to be inspired by the joy of physical exercise. Also, I wanted to write about my travel experiences and show how to discover new places while running. Furthermore, I wanted to share my opinions about the books that I read and to express how valuable and precious literature can be.

However, for the last few months, I haven’t been able to share or to inspire; things just haven’t turned out the way I thought and wished for. It’s quite typical, isn’t it? I have been a runner for so many years and when I finally decide to write about it, I cannot run.

I have been postponing this blog post but I really wish to continue writing so I hope at least to encourage other injured runners. After my trip to Paris and Japan in April, I genuinely wanted to write about those trips; however, writing about places I visit, always includes my running experiences and how can I be writer without being a runner?

Short status:

Except for a couple of optimistic tries, I haven’t run since the beginning of March; since that day when the city was surprised by snow and it was slippery on the sidewalks and I kept running even though it hurt. I’ve had problems with my hamstrings before but never an injury this stubborn, this mean, and this persistent and with such a slow healing process. Do I lack patience or is it age – or both? Running is a life time sport. Lots of people much older than me run several more miles per week that I could ever dream of. Sure, there are physical differences and I have accepted that I may never be a very fast runner. However, running is the most important thing in my life and the last few months have had quite serious effects on my mental and physical well-being.

I have been working out a lot. Alternative exercise is okay and I need it in order not to get (too) depressed. But it can’t be compared to running (for me). When I do weight lifting, work out on the cross-trainer or the elliptical trainer, and when I swim – I feel good afterwards and I do it because I am totally addicted to adrenaline and other positive effects of physical training. But nothing makes me feel so happy, so free and strong, both physically and mentally, as when I run.

Well, life must go on and now I am waiting for an MRI in August. Meanwhile, I will write about my travelling and about literature; I am grateful for my books. I will keep this blog post short and only write a little about my trip to Paris, including one book that I read. Henceforward, I will post more regularly (I promise!)

Paris – April, 2018

It seems a little too late to write about Paris Marathon in April. First, it was several months ago and second, I was a spectator so I cannot give any race report anyway. Still, there is one thing I would like to share from that day:

My friend and I were watching the race near Pont D’Alma where the runners had 28k behind them; many of them looked sweaty and exhausted but most of them happy. With the Eiffel Tower right behind us, some runners stopped and asked us to take photos of them with their cell-phone. One guy just stopped and asked us to take a photo that he wanted us to send to his wife but he had no phone and just said “I’ll give you a number so you can send it”. That was creative! And romantic. As a dedicated runner, for me time is important and I was admiring him for not caring about all those minutes he lost by having his picture taken to send to his wife. True love. 

(Sorry, another picture of my favorite tower; I couldn’t help it…)

Literature:

Bona, Dominique: Colettes et les siennes, Grasset 2017.

While in Paris, I read a book about Colette and her life during World War I and in the twenties. I rarely read biographies as I prefer fiction; however, this book was so well-written and I was rapidly caught up in the life of Colette, admiring this amazing woman who had the courage to be herself and to defy the demands of society. She was challenging and didn’t care about what other people thought. However, at the same time as being an independent woman – especially for that period of time – she was also attached very emotionally to the man she was with. A friend of her had written that it was like she had two animals beside her through her life: a cat that did what it wanted and scratched when it needed to, and a dog that was submissive and in need for love and attention from its master. But when she couldn’t be together with the man in her life, she had her friends (and her dog). I find it courageous of her to choose her freedom but at the same time being able to give everything of herself in her relationships.

The book was mostly about Colette’s friendship with her female friends while their husbands were away in the war. They lived together in the 16th arrondissement at Rue Cortambert and since I stayed at a hotel near Trocadero, I was close and found the street:

Bona’s description of the friendship of the four women made me think of how important it is to keep being inspired by the strong women both of our time but also from history; women like Colette and her friends. I don’t think the book is translated into English yet – I read it in French – but I strongly recommend it, not only to women but to everyone interested in literature, art and the history of life in France hundred years ago. Hopefully, it will be translated into other languages.

Next blog post:

Japan was amazing and I really wish to share that experience even though it will be without any running experience. Sayonara!