Running like German porn; between life, death and pleasure.

I haven't been really faithful to my running schedule lately, because after the 10K race in Chios I hadn't set a goal. I was also happy.
Running did not cure my depression, but it made me happier.

The last race I joined was the Race for the Cure.I ran in memory of my mom, who died of breast cancer.

People usually say "I lost my mother/father/loved one" when they want to say that someone died, as if the death of another person is our loss, not the loss of someone else' s life. Being an atheist and non-believer in after-life, I won't disagree on that. Death really is the loss of a person for all the others. I cried more during the last three days my mother was in the hospital than the three days after she had died. The image of her in pain, still having her senses, gradually struggling for breath was tearing me apart. When I was back from my night shift I was taking a shower, I was laying in bed and then the tears would come, and then I was screaming my lungs out, crying for her pain and the fact there was nothing I could do than to hope this pain would end soon. I was screaming so much that after I'd calm down I would wonder how come no-one had called the police, or something, hearing a person next door screaming for about an hour... This image of her in the hospital bed with the oxygen mask was vivid in my head every night, for the next three years, except for the times I had someone in my bed... Yeap, sex is great for depression, three times a week, doctor's prescription! This image went away only after a year of therapy.

Her death on the other hand was really my loss... The loss of her presence in the present, but also the absence of her during the days to come, all those important moments in life that you'd wish your mother would be there...

"Running for my mom"- Race for the Cure

This race was the hardest 5K ever... It was at noon, it was really hot and I think I got a heat-stroke because after half the race I couldn't run under the sun anymore... I was running at a slow pace under some shadows, and during the second half I was feeling nauseous and dizzy... I thought about quitting, then I thought about the cause, then why the hell would me finishing the race do anything for the cause and my mom and breast cancer anyway? But then I walked, and then I saw the finishing line and I finished it... My time: 33:10. It took me 3 weeks to go running again, and that was last Monday, at a group training for my next race : November 11th, a 10K during the Athens Classic Marathon.

When I was standing in line to grab some water I over-heard a conversation of a young woman and a man behind me... In the beginning I thought they were talking about the girl's dude that broke up with her or something... The conversation went like this:
The guy was telling her -"it's time for you to get over it.. do something, go out, have fun!"
-I am going out... it's just that I can't feel happy anymore...

-You know, this is called depression

-I know... If it wasn't for running I wouldn't know what to do... It's the only thing that keeps me going.

Her last words shook me up, because I've said them so many times... I wanted to talk to her, but my schizoid personality wouldn't let me... I wish I had, I could tell her that she can get help and get better, she can run, and that there are so many of us out there. We could even make a running group where you wouldn't have to make excuses for not showing up because you feel too shitty, or not worry about talking when you don't feel like it...

It also reminded me why I started running and why I still do... How I almost always wonder why the hell am I doing this to myself during training and the races, and how the juices of happiness flow in my brain after I manage to cross the line between pain and pleasure, the line between life and death.


So, I'm back, and I started a schedule for a half-marathon.
I'm running in three weeks, and I'm so excited to participate in the biggest running event of the year.

I also met a guy. Not "The Guy" kind of guy... It was during an Adidas Open Race event. I was running next to an older guy and he asked me if I ever did ballet, a nice way to tell me that my running technique sucks because I'm running on my toes. He was kind enough to give me advice on how to improve my running, how to run uphill and downhill. He was 70, and he had run more than 40 Athens Classic Marathons. He had run more than 4000 races and I told him "oh, this one's my second!". His sincere answer: "oh, it's your second marathon!". No, my friend, just my second race :).
Last thing he told me before we finished together :"Don't worry! You have many marathons in you!"
I kind of feel like I have at least one... :)

Thanks, man, you've been a great co-runner!

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My original intention was that this post would be about sexual arousal during hard training... How did I end up writing about death again? Oh, well... Sorry! :)
It's true, though... Women CAN get horny during hard exercise!