DAY 25

Now that we know that we won't have the euro until 2020, and that most likely by the time we join the eurozone, Germans will already be paying with marks again, we can calmly focus on our own affairs, because the wheel of our destiny is moving in the right direction.

 

 

There's something charmingly Hungarian about it, isn't there? A historical-economic process that is defining for Europe is passing us by, and we won't be part of it at the currency level, all this in the heart of Europe. Amazing. But what can we expect from an accession treaty signed by Péter Medgyessy? Speaking of extreme performances, today I ran the official 12 km Vivicittá route, but there was also a housewarming party and a fantastic night at 4Bro and Mix. I'd have a hard time deciding which place has more jerks.

Let's go in chronological order.

I hate weekends, everything is closed, or if it's not, I think it is. I totally screwed up my eating because I forgot to have breakfast, and there was nothing at home, and the corner store was closed. Damn it. We're going to Gödöllő, I say, great, I'll pop into IKEA at Örs for some salmon. I haven't seen such a massive crowd in a store in a very long time. Well, the weather is nice, the sun is shining, where should we go? Of course, IKEA, but the new tax rates have also started to make their effects felt. Hello, first increased salaries of 2011. But what greeted me in the restaurant section went beyond all human imagination.

I gave up. Got in the car, the road goes south through Cinkota, the Opel is wide as a combine harvester, enjoy the 1.6, feel the sunshine. I still hadn't eaten anything, and it was already 2 PM, and I was starting the 12 km in 4 hours. There's a SPAR, hop, ham, cottage cheese, tomato. In Gödöllő, the usual pancakes greeted me, and Grandma gave me the following diet tips.

Don't be silly, my dear boy, tell me, what's wrong with Raffaello? It has coconut and almond.

I didn't feel like I needed to say anything to that. Back to Budapest, but something is happening in the Liget, because there's a smell of meat, and a lot of axe-faced proles are walking around. May 1st is still a while away, and then I found out later that it was a mangalica festival. Not good news, I'll be running there tonight, I hoped the critical mass would have gone down by then. I ordered grilled chicken with rice and salad. Important. Eat at least 1 hour, but rather 1.5 hours, before running or exercising in general. The energy and blood meant for digestion should rather flow into your muscles. The other thing is, if you're doing a workout, digestion almost stops for the reasons described above. Side stitch, nausea, and the whole workout can go to hell.

I started running at 18:02. I looked up some numbers, specifically the 2005 Vivicittá results. The time limit is 1 hour 30 minutes, anyone arriving after that is disqualified. The first one ran it in 38:40, a Hungarian kid, a professional runner. There's no running race without Africa, the best was an Ethiopian in 3rd place. The general consensus is that African runners are so good because they simply run everywhere. Between two villages, to school, and... is there anything else? Anyway, in the savanna, this is supposedly the safest way to travel, unless you're sitting on top of a Land Rover, because the safety of the African savannas is roughly equivalent to the conditions in Sarajevo in '95.

1. Mihály Zsiros (Budaörsi DSE) 38:00 min

2. Imre Szabó (Vasas) 38:51

3. Mossissa Feyissa (Ethiopian) 39:21

The first few km weren't easy, not at all. That stupid thought kept running through my head: when will I hit the wall? When will I set the bar too high? I had already completed four strength training sessions and a 10 km run, and on the sixth day, I was tackling a stretch like this. Physically, I was completely fine, but mentally, things weren't quite right this time. I couldn't pinpoint a specific low point, because the first 6 km were consistently awful, and then came the Westend overpass. Speaking of the Ferdinand Bridge, I think I left my lungs there. The man with the hammer came exactly at the halfway mark and brutally hit me on the head. These were critical minutes, and I still had 5.5 km ahead of me, which is more than one Margitsziget lap. I started to recover at the Liget. I caught a whiff of sausages and cotton candy, damn, they don't read my blog either. I'm at 9 km when I reach the crowd. I weave through people for a few hundred meters, feeling like I'm skiing and slaloming. But I admit, it's not bad, because it broke up the monotonous running a bit; I must have been running for an hour by then. Another 3 km, and something incomprehensible happens: I revive. But without any transition or prelude, and I don't feel tired. I start running at an increasingly faster pace, my 6:40 km times drop below 5:50, and in the last 500 meters, I'm practically soaring. Maybe because I saw the finish line, but it doesn't matter why, because I reached the finish line, which was in front of the '56 Memorial. I'm incredibly proud of myself. Adrenaline, joy, pride, my body revved up, when you feel that the organism is working perfectly. Today there will be a housewarming party and a party, and because of my diet, I'm not drinking alcohol, but this feeling is damn good. Home, shower, warm up. 

I lay down, I need to rest a bit, meeting at Ákos's place tonight. About the housewarming party, only that the following foods greeted me.

I don't think I need to add anything. As for alcohol, it's forbidden to drink alcohol during a diet, it's full of sugar and calories, so my base is a protein shake and Coke Zero, unfortunately that's how it is, but only 40 days left.

Briefly about the party, which also touches on the blog in part. I'm talking to a girl, the following dialogue took place between us.

She: - You look really tired, what's wrong with you?

Me: - I ran 12 km, and it's 5 AM.

She: - You ran 12 km at 5 AM? (that hurt)

Me: - It was in the afternoon. Do you think that's a lot?

She: - A looooot, I would never run that much, it's not healthy.

Me: - How much should I run?

She: - Well, about 200-300 meters. 

Now, this girl attends Heller Farkas, and the fact that she graduated from high school and was accepted to college seriously compromises the entire Hungarian education system.

I woke up a few hours ago and slept for 11 hours. Week 3 is over, so a weekly summary is coming with kilos, photos, and long-term plans. On my rest days, I'll write part 2 of conscious eating, but a bigger article about Budapest restaurants is also in the works, from Burger King to Vita Juice Bar. It's Sunday, and I wish everyone, especially Dave, a pleasant bucket-puking experience due to their hangover.

[youtube-embed id="I1Lkyb6SU5U"]