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My illusion in life.

I’m reading a book. It’s title is “what I talk about when I talk about running”. It’s a Christmas gift. The author is Haruki Murakami. He is a Japanese writer and he is a runner. Those are the two things I’d like to be in my life nowadays. I say nowadays because there was a time when I wanted to be a football player, an architect later, and a chef after that. Now I’m reading this book and I feel completely identified with him.
I like to run. I prefer rock music while I’m running, like he does (although I also listen some techno music: Tears for fears, Spandau ballet, Depeche mode, etc). Now, I’m in a break when it comes to run. Some months ago I was able to run for an hour not without effort, but work conditions and the short days in winter had made me to take a break. Now I’m loosing my form considerably fast, due to my age I suppose, but I hope I will start again soon. In winter days are too short, and I don’t like to run in the dark hours. I like to watch the landscape while I’m running.
In this book, he writes about how he became a runner and a writer, he also writes about his progress, his goals and his running techniques. He tells how and why he left his previous work and why he started writing.
I think I probably will never run a marathon like him. It’s too hard for me only to think about it. Neither I shall run these iron-man races a hundred kilometres long. May be I would try a triathlon someday. But I think I would be happy running ten kilometres a day (about six miles) and this way get the metal state in order to focus on writing during the rest of the day.
Thanks for reading and correcting me.

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