So I have
stalked pored over your blog and while I had to rely on Google Translate to understand at least one sentence there, I was fascinated the moment the posts were translated in the English language. You mainly talked about your preparations for a marathon and Iron Man. I never quite grasped what those maps and images that accompanied some of the blog posts were about, though. So far, here’s a list of things I gleaned from your blog:
- You’re a very athletic person. (Running, biking, swimming. One after the other on occasion. Just reading about them very nearly killed me from exhaustion.)
- You’re very persevered. (Who else gets up early in the morning just to run kilometers and kilometers of roads and tracks?)
- You like cats. Aww. (And you’re good-looking. And you’re a C-level executive. And you’re witty. NOTHING IN THIS WORLD IS FAIR ANYMORE.)
- You like chocolates. (As I do, too. *tee-hee*)
- Swimming is not your strongest suit among the other activities (ex. running and biking)
- You seem nice or, at the very least, well-mannered, since you always end your posts with lines like “Regards” and “Greetings from [country name].”
- In line with the previous item: Or you could very well be just workaholic. I mean, I end my emails to fellow employees with “Best regards.” Hence, you brought that habit along during those times you blogged.
Speaking of emails, maybe I should shoot you one. Just to see if “Regards” would be there in your reply. But what to email you about? Wait. No, I don’t think you have even logged in to that website I help run and manage.
- (ARGH. End of list.)
After reading — Okay, not gonna lie. I read — really read — only about 65% of them. I skimmed the rest. (Nice pic of the Octoberfest, by the way.) So after reading a handful of your posts, I only have this one question: What made you stop blogging? You kept at it for a solid two years. And then of course, that naturally paves way for another question: Do you still join marathons and triathlons and the Iron Man? Or run every day, at the very least. It’s hard for me to imagine that someone with that much passion for something like that would just stop. Unless, of course, for obvious reasons like a serious injury. (I hope that is not the case!)
And I shall end this letter with the saying:
I think the very word “stalking” implies that you’re not supposed to like it. Otherwise, it would be called “fluffy harmless observation time.” ― Molly Harper
** Aside: These “Dear Bones” posts should be taken as lightly as that feeling you get after sniffing too much rugby.