I miss running

Yesterday I looked at the departure board and saw that my train was arriving.
And I ran.
I don't remember when the last time I ran was. But right there, I just bolted.
And suddenly the world came into focus.
Something lifted in my chest and I felt lighter.
I felt freer.
And I ran.
I ran and my lungs felt fuller.
My feet hit the ground and I felt bolder.

I am in good shape despite not having left the flat much in the last months.
But running is not about being in a good shape.
It triggers something else. Something stronger.
There is some kind of gleeful freedom in running.

Keep going

I ran 15 km.
More than I had ever run in my life. I didn't much train for it. I'm still waiting to know my official time but it might be decent. Nothing extraordinary, but decent still.
It was hard. somewhere between the second and the third kilometre, I wondered if I was going to make it. Not make it to the finish line, that I knew I would, but run all the way. Somewhere before the fourth kilometre, I started bargaining with myself: "hold on 'till the fourth kilometre and then maybe I'll walk" and once I passed the flag I just kept going "okay, make it to the fifth kilometre so that at least you'll have run a third of the way." and Then I just kept going. I saw some people slow down and walk but I kept going. "To the sixth km and then maybe I'll walk" and the path rose and fell, was concrete or cobbled stone. The track formed two loops so I saw the eleventh flag before the sixth. I told myself "I'll come back here." And one foot after the other I kept going. "Make it to the seventh".
There was that woman who half ran half walked, I wave at her and told her to run with me. Just keep running with me. She was in for the 10km race. Then we passed the eighth kilometre and I said "Keep going. Let's make it to the tenth." I saw the thirteenth km flag and told myself "I'll make it here again". Somewhere before the ninth kilometre she fell behind and I kept running. I went on. I passed the ninth flag and told myself that I could make it to the tenth. I was behing last year's chrono but I hadn't stopped running so that was that. I kept running. I saw the tenth kilometer and kept going. I knew where the eleventh flag was. I told myself I could do it and I ran some more. There was that girl who started walking. when I reached her I tapped on her shoulder and motioned to her to keep running. "Come on" I said with a smile. She smiled back and started running again. She was running faster than I was so I let her go. I passed the eleventh flag and I remembered the thirteenth. I told myself to make it at least to the twelfth. I saw the girl start walking again. when I got to her, I tapped her shoulder and just smiled. She started running again. She outran me quicky. And from the twelfth I ran to the thirteenth. Then I thought "fuck it, I'm not giving up now".
So I ran.
And I crossed the finish line.
Later the girl I had encouraged came and said thanks. I didn't have much to tell her. if she kept running, then so should I. She smiled and left. I was happy for her.

The day went on.
Now I hurt everywhere. My joints creak, my sinew hurt. My muscles are sore and I know tomorrow will be painful.
But I made it.
And thinking back about it, I find that this illustrates me rather well. I just keep running from one goal to the next. I keep going. No excuse, no giving up. Let's make it to the next thing. and then to the next. Sometimes my path crosses someone else's and I think if they can do it, so should I, and I grit my teeth and I do.
It hurts, sure. But I am still breathing, so I am fine.
At the end of the day, I can look back and say "I made it, I won" and head on to the next thing.

Be your own hero

I signed up at a gym a couple of weeks ago. I've been going two to three times a week since. It feels good.
I don't especially like the place. I feel exposed and a bit uneasy, out of place, even if everybody's super nice. But I keep going back. With my headphones and a cool podcast that makes time fly. I keep running and exercising.

Sport's always been part of my personal therapy, a good way for me to get healthily tired. A healthy way to hurt. To bend that body of mine to my will.

I need that to feel at peace. I need the exhaustion, the sore muscles, the little pains that tell me I am alive. I need to prove to myself what I can do.
I don't think I'll try to really get stronger, but at least to stay fit. To be able to run and to lift whatever I need to. An adventurer needs to be fit.

Sports again!

My dearest doctor finaly declared me fit for sports again! I AM SO HAPPY!
I missed training so much! and missed clearing my head, missed the subbtle pride of aching muscles!
I can't go back to ballet yet, but running is okay. 5 kilometers top, with a lot of stretching.
But I'm so happy! back to my working out schedule! Getting fit again!

The Adjustement Bureau

Okay, so I'm moving to China in two month. That's not exactly breaking news. I'm slowly thinking about all those little things I'll have to change in my daily life style:
First, I'll have to find a new shovel, and prepare a new "In case of apocalypse" pack.
Then I'll have to figure out which sport to pick to replace Rhythmic Gymnastic. Probably with Thai boxing. or something like that. Anything that implies punching someone.
I'll also need to find a new dance school, so I can keep on practicing ballet.
Yeah, some little adjustments in my dailylife.

The end of an Era

I've been trying to write something but I'm not satisfied with anything.
I wanted to share this weird feeling I have about quitting Rhythmic Gymnastics.
I had my last show yesterday, and there was this bittersweet taste to it.
I love this sport. It taught me so much.
I started when I was 5, started competing when I was 11, took a 4 year break when I was 16, went back at 20, changed club at 21 and kept on dancing 'till yesterday.
I started dancing 19 years ago.
I was never very good. I was to inattentive to really work out. but I had fun. I worked enough to get in shape. And growing up I became more competitive and really enjoyed what I did.
I love dancing. moving, having a deep conscience of your body, being concentrated your feet, your hands, the precise moves to make your hoop turn high above your head. It washes everything away. No more voices, no more anxieties, problems. The rest of the world could crumble, without you even seeing it. There's only the music, the apparate, that pirouette you have to do, the way you point your feet without having to think about it and yet, you still say it in your head.
During one song, the world disappear and there's only dance.
I love thiswave of adrenalin just before the begining of the music. When all eyes are on you. You take one very deep breath and roll your shoulders, and it feels like your shedding a skin that had become to tight.
everything outside the floor and the judges table is in the shadow. The sounds are distorded, you hear the public, and yet it feels distant.
You breath out and raise your head, and the only thing in your head is "I'm gonna rock it"
And then the music starts and there is nothing and everything at the same time. You feel every fiber of your body. You look at the judges, making eye contact. You're fierce and you fear nothing.
The air in your lungs has a different taste when you dance. You forget about all the things that were bithering you only seconds before. there is only the counts in your head, when to throw, when to jump, and the incredible feeling of being invincible.
And the music stops, the wave retrieve and there's only you in the middle of the floor. The magic is broken. You stand up, salute and leave the floor, feeling excited and happy, and stress out, you don't really know what you did in there. Was that really you?
And now it has come to an end.
I'm leaving the country and with it I'm leavings bits and scraps of my old life, and one among them is that. I'm leaving my hoop, my leotard, and lots of memories with it.
I won't stop dancing, I'll keep on practicing ballet, but still, it's not the same and I sure as hell will miss it. All the mixed-up feelings, the soreness after the practice, the pride, the peace.
I will miss it.

Dance

Dance is about passion and hard work.
Dance is about listening to your body and ignoring the pain
Dance is about discipline and letting go

I don't work until I get it right
I work untill I can't get it wrong

Be content of what you have.

I am a crazily competitive workoholic when it's about sports.
I work hard, I put myself in harms way if need is, and I don't stop untill I master things.
If I take part in a competition, whatever I say before, my only goal once I'm there is to bet a medal. Gold if possible.

So when they called us 7th, I felt my heart squeez a little. not in the good way.
Sure, 7th over the whole country is good! it's even damn good, I never thought we could make it.
But...
What I doubted the most was not the ability of the team. We're good. Some more than others, but we had muscles enough to pull get into the top 10 without too much trouble.
So why not get to the top 3? that would have been a real challenge.
But none of them believed it. They did not want it. They just looked at it and went "meh, 10th would be good", when I was "First will be cool"
If one doesn't push oneself to go farther, to get past one's own limits, what's the point of being in a competition?

I can't be satisfied to be 7th, because we could have done so much better.
There were mistakes, things that didn't work. It was a good performance, but not THE performance.
And they did not wanted. They didn't even try. They knew the could do top 10, so they when for it, without even thinking the could go for the top 3.
I didn't feel it. I couldn't see the same flame, the same raging fierceness that burnt into my guts, in them.

And that, I don't understand. It pains me to realise that I don't know how to enjoy things, I don't feel content with small victories and seing everyone happy makes me ache even more because I can't feel the same way. I wish I could sometimes. Fierceness is good, fuels me when I need to be. But if I don't enjoy the outcome, what's the point?

"You'll do better next year" - I won't. I'll be in China next year. That was my last season as a Rhythmic Gymnast. And I don't like the way it ends.

Unexpected Achievement

Rhythmic Gymnastic Championship has been on for several months now.
There's been some ups and downs with my team. I might be (no in fact I completely am) a tad strict and too hard-working, and I consider that everyone should be working as hard, without complaining. (I'm not the most sympathetic person ever)
First round, we ended up second (... there were only 3 teams, so... that's not exactly impressive)
Second round, we arrived 4th over 13 teams. (we did well. Sort of. No the best we did, but it was okay)

So  Today was the last round of qualification for the Nationals.
26 teams enrolled teams. Only 6 to go to the Nationals.
with our 4th place last time, we weren't actually hoping to much. We wanted it, but still, no pressure.

Because I'm a terrible persone I actually thought there was NOT A CHANCE we could make it to the Nationals. Last year we only went to the regionnals (2nd Round). I was so sure it was impossible, I actually signed up for a 15km Run on the day of the Nationals.
And I started to plan things thinking "well season will be over, who cares if I skip practice?"

Hey, told you: I'm a terrible person.

Anyway. Long story short, I was going to do my best, give everything I have (because one doesn't mess up with sport: If you do it, do it well or don't.) but with being realistic enough not to keep too much hope. (and actually have plan B to keep busy after the end of the season.)

Well... Now my agenda is all messed up!

We not only qualified for the National, but we also won the SECOND PLACE! On 26 teams!
This is insane!
*stares at the silver medal* I have no idea what happened.
Really.

A bit too much

Ok, so I've untill sunday night to submit my "Greek and Roman mythology" weekly test, (which means watching all the lecture videos) and submit the 5 weekly tests of my "Magic in the middle ages" class (which also mean watching all the lecture videos). And write my 20 pages report on "digital advertizing" and my first "Greek and Roman Mythology before Sunday May 24th.
And I also have to finish sewing my team leotards ( 4 of them) for 07:30 pm tomorrow and plan a game for Saturday afternoon for my Jawas and finish two other leotard for sunday noon.
And I won't be able to work saturday afternoon nor Sunday before 06:00 pm.

Sounds like someone is going to have fun this week-end!

Running 15 km - First week

I'm probably going to talk a lot about Running in the next weeks.

I just came back from the first fitness session by Nike Training Club. And that was cool!
It was the launching event of the 4 weeks training program, with lots of cool stuff to come. So the meeting was at 20h15 at the Carreaux Du Temple, in Paris.
We were something like 800 girls, working out in a crazy atmosphere with cool coaches and . I was literaly dripping with sweat. I felt my muscle burn more than this week-end when I went working out with some friends on a fitness trail.
I caught cold yesterday, and yet, I could not go to the session tonight. That was awesome! I'm not aching yet, and I really hope I'll be fine tomorrow.

Running 15Km

I signed up a while ago for the Nike Women Race - Paris, in the 15km category.

Last year I ran the "We Own the night" race with Nike (took place on a sunday morning, but whatever), which was a 10km race, women only in Paris. And that was cool!

I had never run like that. on a handball field, sure, while practicing Gymnastics too, but never running for the sole goal of running. 10 km seemed huge.

Nike organized a month of training, included in the price of the race. Runs through nice places in Paris, fitness sessions in awesome places (1st floor of the Eiffel tower, or on a boat, cruising through Paris).

I only signed up for fitness sessions.
I don't like to run.
I just get bored when I try to run. It's just impossible to keep running when one doesn't have a good reason to do so. I want to be fit, and to be able to run, but running in itself is such a bother. So I didn't run before the race. Still had gymnastics, and ballets, and the Nike Training Club sessions, but no running.
So on the morning of the race, I was a bit angsty. 10 km to run, and I had no idea if I could actually do it. It's a bit insane.
Happily, I didn't run alone, I had a friend with me: She kept me motivated during the first 4 kilometers (when I felt like I was going to die) and I encouraged her during the last kilometers.
The finish line arrived way too fast for me. I felt so great! I didn't want to stop. I felt like I could go on and run another 10km (maybe not).
Running alone is a pain. running in the middle of a race is cool. There's this electrifying atmosphere. I ran because my friend next to me was running and I wanted to get to the finish line with her, I didn't want to be the one quitting. So I just ran

So this year, when I saw they opened a 15km, I just couldn't help it: I signed up.

Training's starting next week, I'll tell you more about it!