Sorry faithful readers, it was no post yesterday but i have been living my real life and it was good. Work and then, after work of course. We tested a new pub in Linköping, which had a lots of belgian beers and it had been a long time that i drank a triple blonde. I came home quite late but with the sun and the light just let me think that it was earlier. The clock this morning showed me the contrary. Exactly.

A thing i noticed was that i ate out quite a lot recently and all these after works are not really doing good for my weigth, so even if i was terribly tired, i went out for an intervall run this morning. The little round was the plan, with 70/20 intervalls after 5 minutes warming up. Meaning that you run fast for 70 seconds and then slower for 20 seconds and so on until you die. Well, that was my feeling when i ran the round.

A strange thing happen though. I was running along the river and even if it was early (6 in the morning), a lots of people are taking morning walks or are walking their dogs or running as me. I arrived at a place where a man stand. He was trying to make a picture of the river, so i thought i would run in the grass in order not to disturb him. When i arrived close to him, he suddently turned himself to me and took a picture of me (sweaty, running like a hypopotamus and breathing like an old milk cow). At the moment, i was just thinking that he was totally weird and running the 70 seconds faster. But now when i think of it, i really wonder what this guy will make of a picture of me, running intervalls in the morning. There are more beautiful girls to take pictures of. I just don’t want to imagine that he printed me up in big size and is making some porno things of it. Eww, disgusting.

When i arrived at work, i noticed that it was july the 14th today. The day of my nation. At least the one i come from. This is weird for me to live these kind of days abroad. We had a long discussion about the second world war today at work (well, i was telling my version of it, not that i lived during the war but i heard a lot through people i know who lived it and my familly) and somehow, this was our way to celebrate the french revolution. This reminded me also the half-marathon in Paris, when the title was “la prise de la Bastille”: we ran from and to the Bastille.

To watch the march was pretty boring to me when i was kid. Like hours long you see military forces from the whole country and sometimes foreign ones and they march to the president and the gouvernment, who sits at the opposite end of the Champs Elysées as the Triomph Arc in Paris and it lasts for hours. But somehow, now, i am missing it. Call it homesick if you want, or is that it to become an adult? Because almost every french adult i know was in front of the TV watching it with attention. Or cooking food in the kitchen (with the TV there of course).

I also get to think of the german french friendship somehow, don’t ask me why. I like when people get reunited, when people can forgive and move on together.

I am getting national sentimental today. The rain outside doesn’t help to cheer me up but the positive thing was that i exactly arrived home when it began to rain. I need to eat and i need to finish the first book about Karl-Ove Knausgårds life. It is a good book but it needs some concentration to read it and it has not been the best part of my time at home the past weeks.

The song of the day is all given. No Marseillaise, but “le chant des partisans”, from an earlier march on the Champs Elysées, Tradition for this special day.

Ami, entends-tu le vol noir des corbeaux sur nos plaines ?
Ami, entends-tu les cris sourds du pays qu’on enchaîne ?
Ohé partisans, ouvriers et paysans, c’est l’alarme !
Ce soir l’ennemi connaîtra le prix du sang et des larmes.
Montez de la mine, descendez des collines, camarades,
Sortez de la paille les fusils, la mitraille, les grenades ;
Ohé les tueurs, à la balle et au couteau tuez vite !
Ohé saboteur, attention à ton fardeau, dynamite …
C’est nous qui brisons les barreaux des prisons, pour nos frères,
La haine à nos trousses, et la faim qui nous pousse, la misère.
Il y a des pays où les gens au creux des lits font des rêves
Ici, nous, vois-tu, nous on marche et nous on tue, nous on crève.
Ici chacun sait ce qu’il veut, ce qu’il fait, quand il passe ;
Ami, si tu tombes, un ami sort de l’ombre à ta place.
Demain du sang noir séchera au grand soleil sur les routes,
Sifflez, compagnons, dans la nuit la liberté nous écoute.