Dear Running,
Tribute to Kobe Bryant.
Dear running,
As a kid, I remember looking at runners on telly (yes, real people in my childhood were not into that) and thinking: I'll grow up and will be running too. To me, it seemed an equivalent of freedom.
Time passed, I have grown for a tiny bit and have been running for 8 years now. And that's the greatest news.
I remember when I started, remember the first 5k I ran early in the morning, the first 10k that felt like pure happiness, the first 21k when I did not even notice how I passed the finish line.
Then, I dreamt of traveling and running, and you have been with me everywhere: royal Madrid, stylish Barcelona, liberating Bridge of Freedom in magical Venice, park around Villa Borgese in Rome, extremely beautiful and comfortable running tracks of arrogant Florence, endless miles on the Thessaloniki seaside, greenest parks of Moscow and Saint-Petersburg. Now I see you twisting my initial thought: if it feels like freedom, run as if the world is your training base, don't be shy.
You've got me through the hardest of breaks, break of spirit.
You saw me with the most confusing face one can have: how to make it to the end and find the toilet.
You've pushed me, patted my back when needed, then pushed again but never crossed a line.
When I become too weak to run, don't let me believe that. Show me the world's inexhaustive creativity and people who live differently. As you do all the time. Cause that's one of the sides of freedom, right?
Truly yours,
Yulia, Julia, Giulia, Hulia, Ιουλια
You know where to find me.
Dear running,
As a kid, I remember looking at runners on telly (yes, real people in my childhood were not into that) and thinking: I'll grow up and will be running too. To me, it seemed an equivalent of freedom.
Time passed, I have grown for a tiny bit and have been running for 8 years now. And that's the greatest news.
I remember when I started, remember the first 5k I ran early in the morning, the first 10k that felt like pure happiness, the first 21k when I did not even notice how I passed the finish line.
Then, I dreamt of traveling and running, and you have been with me everywhere: royal Madrid, stylish Barcelona, liberating Bridge of Freedom in magical Venice, park around Villa Borgese in Rome, extremely beautiful and comfortable running tracks of arrogant Florence, endless miles on the Thessaloniki seaside, greenest parks of Moscow and Saint-Petersburg. Now I see you twisting my initial thought: if it feels like freedom, run as if the world is your training base, don't be shy.
You've got me through the hardest of breaks, break of spirit.
You saw me with the most confusing face one can have: how to make it to the end and find the toilet.
You've pushed me, patted my back when needed, then pushed again but never crossed a line.
When I become too weak to run, don't let me believe that. Show me the world's inexhaustive creativity and people who live differently. As you do all the time. Cause that's one of the sides of freedom, right?
Truly yours,
Yulia, Julia, Giulia, Hulia, Ιουλια
You know where to find me.
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