Livenews

This thing here somehow links to my NikePlus times etc, not sure how it works but it looks cool.

Today was the big one of the week, the furthest distance I’ve ever done, and I’ve done it twice before: 14km. All I know is that it’s a long run, and it’s the farthest I can go without water and something to snack. I got so incredibly HUNGRY after 9km! My theory at that point was that the quicker I’d get home, the sooner I could eat. And yes, I am and was aware of how stupid that was. But somehow it worked, the hunger went away, and I had a good run. Tough part around here is that the first 1,5km and therefore the last 1,5km I run is very hilly. Especially on the way back it goes up in two parts in a way you just don’t want to do after 12,5km. I could change the route I take, but somehow it’s become a bit of a tradition to squeeze out the last bit of energy before the end. Just wanted to share that, since I always feel rather bad-ass for doing that Summary of the week:

• 8km: 41,00min
• 3km: 14,53min
• 10km: 53,22min
• 14km: 1h10,58
• Total: 35km in 3h00,13

A little piece advice: don’t have a very late night, and then run 10km. Besides that, feeling good! Now a day of rest, then 14km the day after tomorrow.

3km, a piece of cake. Cold cake. And I inhaled a bug.

8km today, it was nice, and it was cold. First time since April or something that I ran with a sweater on, and I needed it too. In a way, this is great training, since this half marathon will be on the 31st of December in Holland, I’m sure it won’t be bikini-time then either.

I was slightly worried about it, especially since my last two runs, shorter than this one, weren’t very spectacular. But today, all went well. Week one of twelve is finished! I know it’s nothing yet, but it’s at least a start. Today, in perfect conditions, it was beautiful. Running next to Lake Como, looking at the mountains, watching the waterplanes take off and land, trying to figure out what was clearer, the water or the sky, it could be a lot worse. Going to ice my legs a bit now though, just in case. So here is week one:

• 5km: 26,15min
• 8,5km: 47,06min
• 10km: 51,49min
• 13km: 1h07,35
• Total: 36,5km in 3h12,45

Vrooom!

That post is actually already two days old, but it took me a while to post it. Yesterday I ran another 10km, and I have tired, tired legs. I must be getting old, which is strange, since I was young not even a month ago. It must have been because two days ago, we went to get wood for the fireplace (it’s getting that time of the year again, I can’t wait!) and then I went running up and down to our apartment with buckets full of wood. Maybe that was a bit much. But you need to do something for the lumberjack feeling. Tomorrow another run.

Ever since my laptop went frup (the definition ‘laptop crash’  would imply an impressive noise and/or sound effect, and since my laptop just went to bed and decided to not wake up, I will only dignify it with frup), I’ve been kicking myself in the head for not backupping (verb?) more stuff from my laptop. It also contained a diary of sorts I’ve been keeping. But the nice thing is that now I can start another one. I have been running. A lot. I’d say for a bit more than a year now, sometimes taking a break because my ankle is disagreeing with me, but when I can, I have been running. Two weeks ago my big brother and I had a fun 10km race through the center of Utrecht, and now he starting to loosely plan for half a marathon on the 31st of December, and I will loosely plan along with him. The training for it started yesterday, with an 8km run, which normally should not be a problem. Yet yesterday, I was struggling. My legs had cement in them, my breathing was off, I had steek (English translation anyone?), my knees were hurting, my ankle was unhappy, and just to keep me feeling like a stinky bag of potatoes, two flies entered my eyeballs, one in each. The ironic thing is that I have been trying to live so healthily here, and this is what I get. I am trying not to draw any seemingly logical conclusions to let myself return to unhealthy habits… There! The diary has begun. Twelve weeks. 500km of training to run 21,1km. Sounds a bit exaggerated, no? Another 8km today.

06:55, on a September morning which makes me doubt for the first time in four months whether I should wear a jacket or not. Nah, today is a t-shirt day. I sit in the train, surrounded by grumpy looking people, and I am sure I look just as grumpy. I don’t like that. I change it. I am in a train, learning with my head, on my way to learn with my hands. I am tired, yet it feels good. It feels good to hear an alarm, it feels good to sip steaming coffee with puffy eyes. All I can think is: it’s nothing special, you are going to work, just like the rest of the world. Yet after spending years and years trying not to be like the rest of the world, I now welcome it. Hell, I more than welcome it. I offer it something to drink, dinner to eat, I roll out a red carpet for it, I…Well, you get the idea. 7:05 now. On my way to yet another photo studio. But I am not the model today, I am the assistant of the assistant of the photographer. And I am reading, not another whodunnit pageturner, but about the psychological development of my future nephew. How about that.

I search for a trashcan in this strange country, yet all I find is mailboxes. Mailboxes everywhere, while all I need is a trashcan for my half-full cup of stale coffee. When I finally decide to throw the coffee in a mailbox, I find out that the mailbox is a trashcan. In red. 

Sometimes you have the will to write, the time to do it, yet no inspiration to create. Since my dear Japanese laptop decided to die on me, I am painfully aware of all the things I wrote on him, without backing them up, without putting them on here. A waste of weird thoughts, translated into equally weird words. The only one missing them though, is me.

He was riding his Bicycle, listening to his Elbow. He whistled along, but he might not be a good whistler, so all others heard was the sound of a deflating airmattress, but then again, all others saw was a too tall semi-whistling fool with shorts on, gladly plowing uphill. He thought about why he felt all these positive bubbles. Was it just the weather? Would he be simple enough that just a change in sky would make him whistle? Possible. Then again, the guy had a lot to be smiling about. He decided not to list them, afraid to jinx his happy burp with rationality. Then he knew it. While listening to a song called Grounds for Divorce, he realized that all he has, is Grounds for Marriage.

So if your town is situated between mountains and is about four kilometers from the Swiss Alps, and you can see the beautiful white mountaintops from the comfort of your own home, how come none of the inhabitants of Como have figured out what to do with daily activity once this mysterious white powder starts falling?Once the first flake twirls down elegantly and actually hits the ground, you can hear the creaking of shopdoors closing in unison. I mean, how is this possible? “Oh, no! By Gaul, what is this white substance sliding from the sky! We must straightaway seize all current activities, make some ridiculously strong coffee and think about this. We certainly cannot go to work through this gigantic one centimeter of snow! And naturally, for the next five weeks we shall blame all delays on that one day of snow, which by now is only remembered by the highest mountaintops.” The excuses an Italian can find to keep his butt away from work… 

So what does one say after months of travelling? After a 1001 changes and absolutely no inspiration to write about it? One option would be just to ask some rhetorical questions and be done with it. Wouldn’t you agree? 

Guys, I know that Marius and me don’t write that much anymore But, just out of respect for all returning visitors, I’ll share some updates with all of you. My life, especially since being back in Holland, has been busy and pretty focused. Working hard to get things smooth again with my company, missing Barcelona once in a while… But, my business-associate got married on August the 29th, and since then my life has changed… For some reason I really want to be in Turkey all the time. And all the Turkish people here in Holland – I suddenly see them as possible language-teachers… And did you know that the Turkish food (and yes, there’s more then Döner Kebab) is actually very nice? I hear you thinking. Well ok, I admit, I met a girl. And she lives in Ankara. Yes. That’s 2500 KM from Utrecht. But she’s amazing.

That’s newsworthy isn’t it? Ah! I forgot. Since it’s very expensive to keep this website online, I need to put some ads… Sorry for that. Please take some time to watch this commercial, I use the product myself, it’s one of my favorites actually!

Such a promising title. Sangiovanni Valdarno – Como – Cadrezzate – Holland – Cadrezzate – Madagascar. Sorry, did someone say Madagascar? Not sure if I’m white with black stripes or black with white stripes – Madagascar? Status report – Madagascar? Giant pansies – Madagascar? That strange-looking island in Southern Africa? Yes it is. And for two months, from the end of September, I have the ambition to be solely with my Italian love on this new adventure. After a year of phones, weekends and hardly any time alone-alone, it will just be us. And I cannot wait. 

Lots of sand, sun, love, palmtrees, colors, thoughts, futureplans and good wine. No internet though.

The second-to-last sentence I wrote in Mistake a while ago, cancel that. I have quit university. It’s been a few weeks since that big decision, and until this weekend I still wasn’t sure what to think of it. Yet now I do: it’s the best decision I have made in a long time. I could now get into the reasons as to why I quit, but actually, they depress me just think about it.

This weekend has been one of the most amazing ones of my whole life. Through some changes of plans, I was somehow able to convince my brother to come to Barcelona with me. Ha, nice to use the word ‘convince’ here. Let me tell you word for word how this convincing went on: me: “So, you want to come to Jack Johnson with me?” Brother: “yes.” Done. Damn, this weekend has been so amazing I am tempted to create this ‘and then and then and then’ story, because it is just worth telling. Actually, it didn’t start all that great. I arrived in Barcelona on Friday afternoon, while my brother was supposed to arrive at 11 that night. I had some stuff to organize, like the hostal to stay at and getting the tickets, but then I had time alone. I realized I just don’t want to be alone much anymore. Seeing things without the sweetest Italian girl on the planet just isn’t the same. Then my poor brother sent a text: ‘be prepared: big delays’. This delay kept on increasing, until at around 3am my brother walked out of the airport-hi-welcome!-thing to encounter a frumbled half asleep completely confused little brother, holding out a glass of wine. Somehow even this night turned out nice, because we somehow ended up sharing our bottle of champagne with a remarkably funny Danish couple.

Saturday was a perfect day. Sun, talks with someone else who has made a big change in his life and thinks almost exactly like me, the stupid and lovely touristbus, a walk in Park Guell and an early dinner, which for some of us was some pasta with something that was still in a can a good 11 seconds before. Then it was time. It was time for the thing I have been looking forward to for months and months: Jack Johnson in concert. Yet somehow the day before my exitement grew even more: Mason Jennings would also play, even before G.Love & Special Sauce, the official opening act. Mason Jennings has been something close to a musical obsession for about six months now, and he recently signed up with Brushfire Records, the record label of Jack Johnson and would open before the opening act.

So there we went. Five hours of live music was awaiting. When Mason Jennings started playing all alone in this gigantic stadium, which at that moment wasn’t even one-tenth full, with most people sitting and talking, I was touched by watching him a lot more than I already thought I would be. It was hard to explain for me. This year has been a difficult year, a very difficult year and cliche as this will sound, his songs are a part of that year, making things a bit better. Standing there, my brother next to me, and Mason Jennings playing, a big grin came on my face, that didn’t go away for a while. The whole night was just incredible, standing there punching my brother in the shoulder with every amazing song played by either Mason Jennings, G.Love, Jack Johnson or a combo of the three, and just being ridiculously happy. Then I knew: I made the right decision, and it is time to get back to some important things that have snowed under a bit: photography, diving, dreaming, writing, smiling, laughing, loving, and anything else amazing you can think of. It is time for naked feet in the sand, peeling burnt skin of your back, being so happy that all you can do is make a high squeeling sound, sleeping deeply without worries. Maybe not right now, but my arrows are pointing the right way again.

No more I-should-selftorture. Be here now.

Being Dutch means that you forget how hard it is to win. The only exception to this rule, happens to be the coach of Russia.