My So Called Cypriot Life

Light at the end of the tunnel? I don't know, honestly, is there? At the moment I can only think about time and distances, paces per kilometres, stomach pains that I had on my first marathon, running in the heat on my second one last year. Yes, been sucked into this black hole of self-doubt about ever running the scary distance. How did I think of getting it done? Really? Visualising the start and the finish should help. As it's been over a year since my last marathon, next race feels like the first date. It's in my dreams now. (keep waking up with the thought of getting lost and not making starting area on time). People (who don't understand, I am sorry, but this is the case) keep asking and making it even a bigger deal. "How can you do that?" "Really, 42 kilometres?" And then, because you chose your hobby or destination all by yourself, you don't feel the right to complain. So, at the moment. There is no news, no new thoughts, new i...

Spot the paleface on the back, yes - that's me with my Cypriot tan. Photo: Helsinki Twilight Run   Does the following situation sound familiar for you?  You train six, seven, maybe eight months, log miles, get up early mornings to beat the scorching sun, say no to staying up late and having more than one beer, try to squeeze the nasty speed runs between soccer practise and family dinner, remember the core training and log some more miles, alone most of the time. Planning, effort and self-obedience. All the same qualities I do not possess in me naturally, more like I need to train by brain as well as my feet. And then just when the race is just around the corner, an illness tackles you to bed. Well, I know.  Last summer it was a sprained ankle, so I was looking forward for this summer. July was meant to be a long and smooth runway leading steadily to a fall marathon. Well, my plans usually have a mind of their own.  The trail run in the woods of Paloheinä ...