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I run.

And certainly not on the treadmill.

I run wearing a pair of boots and hiding a pair of high heels in my bag. Changing into ones and back to the others depending on whose doors I hit.

I run between cars looking for my old VW Beetle, so small and lost amongst humongous cars I feel bad for abandoning my caretaker.

I run carrying with me the inevitable ten minutes late: this is a bit of my trademark lately. Trying to suit the data hourly spread on my black organizer. By fitting appointments with a skill that reveals a past champion of Tetris. Compiling lists and patrolling the skies looking for a flight to Paris.

Trying not to miss anything. Trying to park. Trying not to leave the iPhone on my desk at the office.

I have to go to the dry cleaner to pick up the black jacket. Before it is too late, before it’s tonight’s party.

I should buy one thousand white lights because the desire of the week is a house that is a bit my corner of the sky.

I have to stop believing that today is Friday.

I have to get Chris Martin out of my head.

I have to write a piece on charismatic men, those who make our hearts beat faster even in the movies.

I have to meet my friend at Chopin (an airport in Warsaw, Poland). And pamper her and myself; at tonight’s fashion event but fist, while losing our heads in Ikea (because we don’t have one here, in LT)

I have to finish watching the parades in New York. And understand whether this plethora of chic black and white color combinations, ’90s-inspired oversize silhouettes, and metallic sheens convince me. We all love a little shine, right?

I should run now.

But not on the treadmill…

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Inspired by the fabulous girls that truly love to run: Chelsea, Sarah, Lucie, Jessie, Liv, L and Alex (if I missed you, lovely runner, You too.)

Have a gorgeous Saturday, cupcakes and share whether and where do you run, while leaving your favorite running shoes resting at home?

Love, Greta

Images 2,3,10 are mine the rest: via pinterest.com