London chronicles – 4

[Versão portuguesa em baixo]
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London, despite of my opinion on its beauty, was a going back to a painful past. Two years ago, back there, I entered to worst period of my life and I am just leaving it right now. I didn’t think I was ready to go back there just yet.

Call me crazy, but I decided I would go to the place I lived there, just to redo my daily steps, in an attempt to make amends with the past, with my decisions, with the world and, most importantly, with myself.

So there I was, in a Finchley Road just as I remembered it. The Tiger store I had bought some home stuff, the O2 mall with the Sainsbury’s market I used to go on a regular basis, the coffee shop I tried to work at once and… my house.

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It was never a home, I didn’t even make the necessary effort for that. It was just a house, full of shared bedrooms, where I used to cry every day during my stay in London. I couldn’t even enjoy our terrace properly. I just hated it. And I hated my life.

More than two years later, I stood there, in front of that door behind which there was my home, for a little while. I took some photos and I felt inner peace coming over. Under the London sun, I forgave me and the mean people and events that had brought me to the deepest unhappiness I have ever felt.

It was, indeed, the right moment to go there: I was ready for the shock and it pushed me forward.

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London chronicles – 3

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London by night (Millenium bridge)

When I was young, I decided I loved Shakespeare, so I got almost his complete work which turned out to be really hard to read, especially for a 14 year old who thought it would all be romance and hearts.

I didn’t change my mind, I think he is a genius, but now I know there much more to it than that and that his literature is way more complex, less romance and more philosophy, thoughts and social criticism.

20160827_191712.jpgMy brother – who is my cultural guru without being aware of that – suggested we watched Macbeth at the Globe Theatre. So, the night before, we watched the movie (with the amazing Marion Cotillard) as some sort of homework and, on Saturday, we took our standing places (yes, we stood standing for almost three hours) and although my back hurt like hell at the end of it, it was an amazing experience. Tara Fitzgerald, who played Lady Macbeth, is an incredible actress. I really loved the scene of her going mad, in such deep despair.

The production of this very dramatic play gave it an inch of comedy which, combined with the interaction with the public, provided a great final result.

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London chronicles – 2

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There was an animosity between me and London for several reasons: some of them I already knew, some others I only figured out while out there. Therefore, I felt a little bit choking while waiting for the train that would bring me to my brother’s home, even though I had Afrojack singing to my ears “hey, will you stay with me?”. On that moment, with the past being brought to me by many sensorial triggers, I felt tears burning my eyes. I was stronger than them, though.

My plan was to workout, read, write and sleep but, as I had already told you, that wasn’t exactly what happened and on the very first day I had lunch with my brother near London Bridge. Ironically, it was the first time I had ever ate at Nando’s and I was positively surprised. Chicken is always a good idea, but those seasonings and the side dishes (I ordered a beans salad) were delicious.

As it was near Borough Market, and although I already knew it from other times, I fought my own inertia and my fears and played the tourist for the next couple of hours. While drinking a veggies juice, I walked by weird food stands (ostrich, crocodile, koala, etc. hamburgers; healthy snacks; detox juices;…) until I reached the river, near the pirates boat.

It had already been raining and even though it seemed like rain hadn’t left for good, I let my legs lead me along the river, through Southbank. I thought I was going to London Eye but, in fact, I was going in the opposite direction, which was a great unconscious decision, as I didn’t go back there again. Plus, rain disappeared and the sun kept my self-evaluating thoughts company.

My goal for my days in London was to clear my mind and to heal my heart.

For the very first time in a long time, I felt like I was starting to walk towards that outcome.

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London chronicles – 1

[Versão portuguesa em baixo]

Don’t make plans.

At least, don’t get too attached to it. That’s my advice, especially after these past Summer holidays when, due to a sequence of events, I ended up buying a last hour ticket to London (through Madrid, which was the better option, but we’ll ignore that detail).

I didn’t like London – it reminded me of the worst year of my life, it brought me too many heartbreaking memories I wanted not to forget, but not to be reminded of. But that’s where my brother and my sister in law live, so I accepted their invitation to spend some days with them. And that was the only thing that made me eager to go: being with them, even if it meant staying home alone all day, waiting for them to finish work.

However, things were quite the opposite of what I had imagined and I ended up having the best and most inner peaceful (if that’s a thing) days I had ever experienced.

My mornings begun with a workout at their home gym. Then I had a healthy lunch, whether with them, whether watching some “Friends” episodes. During the afternoons, I went for a walk no matter where and, in the evening, I had another workout: a cycling class, a boxing class, a muay thai class or just a regular workout at their home gym, with them.

On top of that, they are the best cooking couple I know, so I always had amazing and very healthy meals. As a plus, they taught me a little bit more about eating and training, so by the time my holidays were over, I was in the best body shape so far, with a new eating and workout plan for the next couple of months.

So that’s it: don’t get too attached to your plans – they will change and that is ok. In fact, that may be great.

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Fit journey

(English version below)

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Camila Guper – foto daqui

Já não sei quando foi que descobri que gostava mais de corpos musculados do que de corpos magros. Embora essa admiração já estivesse latente há vários anos, só no início do verão passado, sensivelmente, é que decidi fazer um plano de treino diferente, mais eficaz e intenso, não para passar horas no ginásio, não para poder comer um croissant no dia seguinte, mas para mudar o meu corpo e moldá-lo para aquilo que defini na minha cabeça. Tudo bem, eu queria ser uma Camila Guper, mas por muito definida que essa ideia esteja na minha cabeça, não me parece que venha a acontecer. Quer porque a minha vida não é feita de desporto desde que acordo até que me deito, quer porque eu não tenho a fisionomia, nem o metabolismo, nem os genes nem, na verdade, nada que seja da Camila Guper.

Então achei que me bastava fazer o básico: seguir o plano de treino e eliminar gorduras e açúcares da alimentação. Isto, a bem dizer, é o básico. Mas o básico não chega para atingir os objetivos que eu quero. Sim, notei bastantes diferenças e sim, senti-me melhor, com mais força e energia. No entanto, à medida que aprendia um pouco sobre o assunto, fui descobrindo que havia ainda muito mais para perceber, como uma espécie de teia de ideias e de conhecimentos.

Neste processo há duas grandes dificuldades: manter o foco e saber discernir as teorias corretas das que não se aplicam a nós. E ainda hoje, um ano depois, muita coisa estudada, perguntada e aprendida (e de tanto ter torturado com perguntas tolas a melhor cunhada do mundo – sim, é a única que tenho, mas em tempos não foi, por isso sei mesmo do que falo!), continuo a ter um mundo fit inteiro por conhecer. Ainda que na maior parte do tempo seja tudo extremamente fascinante, há momentos em que me deixo cair de desespero e só sei dizer: não percebo nada disto!

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Not all dreams do come true

(English version below)

Há um dia em que decidimos matar alguém em nós. Tomamos uma decisão consciente e bem pensada de eliminar de uma vez por todas aquela pessoa da nossa vida. Para o nosso próprio bem. Bloqueamos qualquer acesso dela a nós, deixamos de falar com ela e fazermos um esforço enorme para parar de pensar nela. A vida continua e ela está do lado de fora, nem mesmo no papel de espectador, porque não há forma nenhuma de testemunhar o que se passa do lado de cá.

Todavia, o subconsciente ganha vontade própria e dá asas à sua imaginação durante a noite. Mesmo quando sabe que está a cometer traição.

Ontem, depois de sonhar em francês (exato, francês! Talvez esteja finalmente a tornar-me bilingue, como sempre quis), sonhei que estava a planear fazer-lhe uma surpresa. Era estúpida, incluía bandeiras e gritos de bom dia e eu já sabia, à partida, o que iria encontrar quando entrasse no quarto dele (que era espetacular: um sótão de madeira clara, com imensa luminosidade, a cama era apenas um colchão no chão com uma cabeceira super gira). Mas fui em frente e encontrei-o com outra outra mulher (sim, não aquela de que eu tenho conhecimento, mas uma terceira, com quem estava a traí-la). Para dizer a verdade, não fiquei zangada nem sequer triste. Ainda assim, ele estava ali deitado, com a cabeça ao nível dos meus pés, indefeso… então peguei nas minhas havaianas novas e bati-lhe. Várias vezes. Na cara.

E foi tão bom e tão libertador!

Tive, então, de fazer as pazes com o meu subconsciente, uma vez que as intenções dele eram as melhores e só queria permitir-me fazer aquilo para que nunca tive coragem: magoá-lo.

Agora já está, obrigada. Podemos voltar a falar francês. Continue reading

Play me

É sexta feira, é verão, é agosto e há sinais de festa por todo o lado. Eis, portanto, uma banda sonora adequada para este início de dia:

It is friday, it is Summer, it is August and everything screams party everywhere, so here’s a great soundtrack to start this day:

A versão towel boy ou…

The towel boy version or…

A versão towel girl.

The towel girl version.