whoops

oh great. what i thought was "good job" really means "that's what you deserve". 3 years of unknowingly offending the french, done and done.

run, hannah, run!

i ran a 7k here in aix the other weekend, which was delightful for multiple reasons.

first being that it was the first race i’ve run in a while.

second being that i got to run with an amazing group of women from iccp, both dedicated runners and women who were only doing the run as a challenge to themselves. this also included the exciting discovery that one of the girls i work with and i have similar running speeds and styles (being that talking is enough of a distraction that it merits the loss of breath).

kels & i enjoying some chit-chat & post-race endorphins.

and the third reason being that it’s infrequent to see french women engaged in sport. it may be true that french women are not fat, but it’s not because they’re out doing serious workouts, i can tell you that. on the rare occasion that i see a french woman while i’m out on a run, she’s often fully made-up, hair flowing in the wind, and wearing chuck taylors.

some of my students saw me on a run one day and their response the next time i saw them in class went something like this:

-we saw you.

-did you?

-yes. you were running.

-oh okay. yep, i run sometimes.

-but why were you running?

-it’s good for your health. do any of you run?

-(blank stares)

granted, it would probably be a bit of a shock to see my high school french teacher out running sans make-up, hair pulled back, in running shorts, but they seemed mostly confused by the concept that i was just out running for the sake of running.

so to see a conglomeration of women (french and otherwise) out running in aix was beautiful to me. a mass of pink t-shirts pushed down the cours mirabeau. bodies i would assume were out of shape if i saw them in the street blasted past me, far more in shape than i.

it was tough, but i exceeded the personal goal i set for myself, and had a blast in the process.

 and, most importantly, we got in the paper.

super famous. 

write me.

write me letters, like kafka wrote to milena. 
or at least shoot me a postcard.