On last Sunday’s bicycle ride I was quite depleted and needed some energy intake from the bistro by the lake. I opted for a hazelnut croissant.
My brother had one too and when he studied the ingredients a brist of laughter hit him when he read “Brösel” which means (bread)crumbs. Neither of us had any idea you had to especially add them for pastry to crumble.
I love poppy flowers. Not for their opioid abilities (which of I recall correctly one one kind of poppies contain) but for their simple beauty. Especially when haphazardly strewn into a field of wheat or wild grass.
As I found myself unable to capture the splendor of this field the photo has to do for once.
Sundays from spring to fall are reserved for bicycling. It’s been a tradition between my mum and my aunt for the longest time that they circle a lake nearby together, then sit on a bench and have coffee and sometimes prosecco they brought along. At some point I joined them without circling the lake as I usually lived further away and had enough to work from home to the lake and back. In exchange, the coffee and prosecco break was extended to a full blown breakfast.
When to begin with only my dad and my uncle joined us for for the coffee part after a while the visitors – mostly family – that joined us for a coffee by the lakeside grew and changed: sometimes my cousin with her four kids would join, now it’s still my dad and uncle but also my brother with his twins. In the meantime they often accompany my mum on their bikes which offers a nice change to the hours spent gaming.
I immensely enjoy those family Sundays and the cross training it offers me. I hope there are many more to come!!
Though some things may be broken, don’t fret – I’m as well as can be!! I’m a runner and as long as I can run no evil shall bring me down. Or at least so I would hope…
Today was my running day and looking at the crazy busy work schedule this week I wasn’t sure I could carve out sufficient time and muster up enough energy to complete a satisfying run.
But then my schedule cleared up and I stormed out. While I still felt a little lazy in my bones that didn’t seem to bother my legs and the ran off. It was one of the few occurrences when I actually had to slow myself down consciously at the beginning of the run.
And after about 2k I felt so great I sneaked in a little interval training, a thing I usually despise. It was glorious and I totally smashed those intervals.
So Saturday night I bit off my freshly polished nails. Still, Sunday came and with it a glorious day with many friends and family cheering my dear runner buddy and I on and an unforgettable, long-suffering (17km of stomach pain and cramps…) 42.195km later I was accomplished: I am unofficially but beknownst to my closest people a marathoner.
I’m terribly tired from the lack of sleep the night before the race and of course from the exertion, but also proud, exhilarated, thankful, certainly stronger and – accomplished.
A big shout-out to all dear ones who have supported us by cheering and providing us with sustenance. I certainly couldn’t have done it without you!!
Sometimes running can feel like flying. It is – at least for some of us – a rather rare and thus highly precious feeling and one of the reasons that keep me going. Especially on the occasion when I feel like there’s not much left in the tank and then I end up soaring. Loving it!
I love all the animals I see when on runs or hikes. I cherish the young cows that are out on the pasture for the first time, curiously following hikers along the fence.
Same with horses, ponies and rabbits.
And then there are the chickens. We have lots of very lucky and undoubtedly happy chickens around here. They are allowed to roam large grassy areas, sometimes studded with bushes and trees. The chickens get moved around in a chicken-mobile so they can explore various surroundings.
For about a month now they have been in a field with low bushes in a tree nursery and when it last rained a puddle formed in one of the empty holes where a l bush had been dug out and the chickens used it as a bath. So precious, the sight was simply too sweet!
Not only is there pollen dust in the air that covers everything and gets into every crack, in addition there’s apparently Sahara dust in the air and the bone-dry north-easterly wind blows up billowing dust clouds. So don’t be surprised if you find yourself sand-blasted to the bones after a long jog.