I need a room

I really didn't want to include any serious emotional meltdowns into this harmless blog but since I might be in the middle of one, I might need to mention it. This broken heart shit and starting your life all over again IS BLOODY DAMN HARD. Last few days have been especially weird and I could swear that my dear old head is playing tricks on me. My initial excitement towards running has vanished but I am committed to gain it back. In fact I am convinced that setting my mind to this crazy running project will help me fight through this shit. So I went running again. It was shit. Somehow this whole drama had made my body weak as well. Bloody unfair! I tried to book a place in a marathon training day though. Hope I get it.
In the middle of love disaster the shittiest thing is that one has to sort out big practical things such as WHERE TO LIVE. That's what I'v been doing. I have to rent a room in a house share since it's impossibly expensive to live alone in London. But turns out that even just rooms can be ridiculously expensive! I just went to a Speed Flatmating event. Idea is nice: people who look rooms to rent meet people who have rooms to offer. It was a disaster though. The moment I'd written my budget on the sticker I was meant to wear I realised everyone else was having much bigger numbers on their stickers. Place was full of business people with money. And I thought house shares were mainly for hippies...

running with a heart failure

Last week my life came crumbling down. I left the love of my life and the lovely flat I shared with him. We knew this was probably coming but I had been still hoping. I didn't really anticipate broken heart to be the biggest challenge on my superhero project though. I'v been feeling totally opposite to a super anything!
Now I'm living on my friend's sofa. The sofa is located closer to central London and also means totally different running routes. My first run with a broken heart happened last Sunday. I ran by the Regent's Canal and around Regent's Park. That's exactly where I ran for the first time ever in London over 7 years ago and felt like I was in a movie! I thought it would be emotional and bring back all the memories from the beginning of our love story but I felt nothing. It was nice to run again though and the colourful Autumn leaves looked lovely. The pictures above I took bit later when I was walking to meet a friend for a Sunday brunch. Brunch turned out to be an all day and night wine drinking session and I think I undid the running completely!  

Putin and shit

I lost. Putin went too far. I am also having shittier than shitty time in my life. I haven't ran since last week. Tonight was karate training which was a welcome break to my otherwise extremely shitty week. Was nice to fashion my brand new belt as well. Orange is the colour of the season. Pumpkins and shit. Did I meantion shit already? Well, let me say it ones more: SHIT. 

Puff Daddy nearly destroyed my future in karate

Yesterday was the official Diddy Day. Only in Chicago but still, I'm not making this up. So obviously we had a party. I make a rubbish Puff Daddy as you can tell from the picture. I look more like some sleazy Italian(no offence Italians). And I still haven't learned how to do those gangsta hands. Only thing I was successful at was endurance. Somehow I crawled home just before 4 in the morning...

...and that was a BIG problem. You see, I had my karate grading test today afternoon. I was meant to just pop to the party for few hours and then call it a night. I really didn't think I would survive alive from the grading. This is me walking towards the leisure centre and feeling sick.

Against all the odds I didn't have a heart attack, instead I got a brand new orange belt. It was tough though. Very tough and stupid and totally not advisable. Lesson of the story: Do not pretend to be Puff Daddy!

action woman versus action man

My bum is broken. To be more precise the right bum cheek is broken. This is my first official sports injury. I have to say I didn't expect it to be the bum!

Then there's this copycat dude out there whose agenda on how to appear heroic is totally stolen from me. He is Vladimir Putin. I should point out to mr Putin that if I would have policies they would probably totally argue with his ones so maybe this copycat move is  a political suicide for him. He has been warned.

example 1: Karate moves

At least I do some kicking but I have to admit that I only have a yellow belt and in this picture it is just a white one!

So he appears to have a black belt. But is this just a marketing stunt? He doesn't even kick. He just does some stretching!

 example 2: wall climbing

I climb higher. Clearly.

This just looks pathetic. Someone is helping him and he looks scared.

 example 3: mountain climbing

Again I climb higher. I am above the clouds already and I carry my stuff!

Someone else clearly carries all his stuff...hmpf

example 4: hiking by the river

Yep there I go. Small balancing issues but otherwise all good good.

Now this is LOW! Going TOPLESS!!!! Unbelievable celebrity stunt!

I think the scores are 3-1 to me. I give Putin 1 for the black belt. Should give minus points for the tasteless half naked pose.

this runner just got bit angry

I started the porridge season this morning. Porridge is winter breakfast food and I thought that the weather felt miserable enough for it. I picked Scott's porage oats because of that kilt wearing hunk. It felt like an appropriate choice for a wannabe superhero. As I was tucking into my porridge I overheard something alarming. Telly was left on next room and the news reader was just reporting about  the rise on eating disorders. What was most alarming about the news was the younger and younger age of the cases majority of them being girls. It's easy to now that eating healthily and being physically active is the way forward. Unfortunately this message doesn't always translate this innocently. Being fit means different things for guys and girls. Boys have a variety of sports heroes to look up to but girls get the wags and airhead celebrities. For a girl being fit is not about achieving something or being heroic or feeling great, its about LOOKING GOOD. Looking good means being thin and passive and not getting dirty. No wonder girls faint on treadmills meanwhile blokes meet their mates for a friendly match of football.
Deeply in my thoughts I forgot that I was meant to try to avoid the rain and do my running early today. I ran in the rain. Well it wasn't too bad and I managed little over an hour through several parks. 

I had to buy few bits and bobs for an outfit for Saturday's party. I needed them cheaply and forced myself to the Wood Green shopping hell. Then I started getting of the track a little bit. Now I own these super cute gloves...

...and then I also have a very technical new running shirt! It claimed to be very cheap in TK Max and I got fooled by the fancy labels. I have a good reason for this purchase too. Today I discovered a brand new spot for blisters: between my boobs! My habit of hiding the keys in my sports bra doesn't seem so clever anymore and this top has a small pocket for them. It's also highly visible hence the orange colour. Will be so safe when jogging in the darkness and car drivers will spot me, the running Halloween pumpkin, from miles away! Oh and it has funny holes for thumbs.

Being so excited about my newly found materialism towards sports gear, I ventured to Sports Direct. That's where I got angry again. At least the running section was strictly divided into his and hers, hers being entirely PINK! Pink is an ok colour but what it stands for nowadays and when pink means female version of the real version, I can not stand it at all! But there was a sale and I grabbed this MALE bottle. Might get handy when my runs get longer and longer, I reasoned.

I also got more socks and settled for a pretty lavender colour instead of the pink. I hate lavender too because it's the other option alongside pink for us females. But the socks were only few pounds...

zig zag nails and stationary superwomen

I was delighted to spot these superhero themed gift bags and coasters by Max Hernn today. There were some cool greetings cards as well. I know what everyone will get this Xmas from me. Oh, and note my super amazing finger nails (which obviously has nothing to do with marathon training)!

Tonight was a karate night again. First half of the class was intense. Lots of jumping and kicking which I love! I also love the bits when we have to yell. I think that I have a great mindset for karate since I really enjoy imagining myself as Jet Li or Bruce Lee or Kung Fu Panda or anyone from Matrix or...you got the picture.

superhero genes!

There's at least one real superhero in our family! My second cousin Terhi just completed a triathlon in 2 hours and 34 minutes! When I was eight I started playing basketball just because she was the coach. We visited her family often and I looked up to her because she was bit older and therefore super cool. Clearly, she is still super cool! She also gives me faith in my mission of becoming a superhero ninja warrior. There's clearly super genes in this family! Although she has always been very sporty and I haven't really. My basketball career didn't last many years either. I got distracted by other things in life.... Hey ho, I choose to believe in super genes!

eat shit, suck balls

Today I tested my very technical running socks for the first time. They promised A LOT including an anti-blister function. Above are my toes after the run.... I ran bit faster than last week which is 10.48 km per hour. 

Later on today I got this message from a cashpoint in Camden. So I decided to eat shit from Camden Market. The lamb tagine I got, didn't seem that shit in the end.... I did not decide to suck any balls. This is not that kind of blog.

I managed to drink some shit though after seeing Looper in the cinema. It was okish apart from the usual shit where all the main heroes are blokes and they are very violent but somehow still cool and the women(all 2 of them) are strippers or mothers. Yeah, nothing new in there.

being a guinea pig

Our friend Jason studies sports massage. He needed guinea pigs for his masseur skills and bought his massage table to my friends house. It was my first ever so called official massage experience. I'v been always suspicious about massages. It didn't help that there was audience watching and giggling but after a little while the bizarre experience got bit more relaxed. My thighs were mega tight and I think I might need his help also later on during my marathon training. My legs are newborn right now! It's amazing!
The guinea pig in the picture is Niina, not me.

it's torture time!

This is what I call BORING exercise: press-ups and sit-ups and other various forms of self harm and torture! My philosophy goes that any sort of sport is great as long as it's fun. This sort of exercise is NOT fun! In fact I hate the whole word exercise. It's the whole world of fitness and gym going that I don't really understand. It concentrates too much on looks and calories and dieting and just boring things. But I have decided to listen to the experts when it comes to marathon training and the official London Virgin Marathon magazine advised to work on core stability. Oh yeah, that's the fancy word they used for these basic movements! 
After this self harm session I did my second running around pointlessly in my new shoes. They are still good. I tried to only run for half an hour but accidentally spent 40 minutes hopping around park and the neighbourhood. 

becoming a NINJA WARRIOR!

Above you see what I imagine I will be in few years time. Last winter I joined my local karate club just because a nice lady from there happened to ring our door bell and asked nicely if I was interested. I found myself saying yes (I'm easy, I know...don't try to sell me anything). So far I have reached the level of yellow belts...not that cool yet but I will be a ninja warrior one day! Wednesday is my training day. It wasn't very physical this time. We did lots of technique stuff and some slow motion fighting. I imagined being in a movie scene...

Big Feet!

 I went to the Sweatshop! Well I decided that it was time to buy proper trainers and the reasons I chose the Sweatshop were:

1: it really has a funny name! I mean I can not stop thinking of a shop that sells bottled sweat (I know my level of humour is one of a 7 year old)
2: it had good reviews and promised to offer me proper tests and stuff on my running style
3: it is very local: this small but oh so cosy branch is just under the railway arches off from Holloway Road.

Turns out it really was a nice shop. The friendly shop assistant made me run on a treadmill several times to find me a perfect pair. Also turns out that my right foot moves bit wonkily and that I have been using way too small shoes and that the pretty Nike shoes really are not for me. So I got these ugly Brooks ones. At least I like the blue bits and they are not too white(just thinking of all the mud in this country). She also sold me a discount pair of sports socks with all sorts of scientific sounding functions. I really didn't know socks could be so technical. I was also given all sorts of leaflets with motivational slogans. The shoebox was full of inspirational text too. I give you few examples of motivational text: Running is a force for good, Every runner has a dream, Run Happy..... and because I am rather cynical and can't deal with cheesy slogans, I'v been having hard time not laughing out loud hysterically.

My old shoes are much smaller indeed!  And this is me laughing at my new big feet! Obviously I had to do a small test run and so far so good!