The only time that I stopped putting my thoughts on web, was during my vacation. It was an interruption not to running itself but to the electronic record of the text.
It is late at night (23.00 p.m.) and i am writing in a notebook my thoughts of the 142nd ongoing day of running. I am drinking milk after a syrupy sweet that i ate before at Kimi place.
Let’s talk about the action. When i am in a new place i like to listen stories, to learn for this area from the people that live there, for all these that has to do with the specific place in where i live for some days. One of the story that i heard was that the two cows of the area belong to two very old ladies. They used to leave the cows walking around and eat their food.
As you can see at Runtastic, today i went further away comparing to the route of the 2 days before. So, i met one of the two sisters. She was riding a donkey and she was followed by the 2 cows. She accepted to take a photo of her asking me first, from where i have been there, where i live and where i go. I looked like a foreigner because she asked me if i was an alien.
Any contact that lasts for few seconds is unique. You probably will not meet this person again in your life. It is a meeting of two different persons, of two different worlds. I was wearing the classic clothes of running, my hut, my mobile phone and on the other side she was an old woman, wearing black clothes, a head scarf and riding a donkey. She informed me that i would be at the road after 1000m. I was there after 1100m. I am wondering if the donkey had food pod. Probably this old woman was an infallibility gps. Years bring together knowledge....not always i guess.
I was running and thinking the different places that i had been last week. I have referred about this earlier. It was like the crossroads that i met on my way. It was like i lost the places and the days between now and before.
When the old lady asked me where am i from, i answered spontaneously from Athens. This different answer sounded strange at my ears and i thought the small roads at Kipseli area. In few seconds i understood that i gave a wrong answer but i didn't correct it. What really matters was that i answered, the communication, the contact with a personal part of ambivalence. I can realize it now that i have some distance from the event itself.
It is a project and it runs, like it is wheel and is turned. I feel full because of my effort.