Those who run normally enjoy. The body goes on a journey and, above all, carries its head lightly, a couple millimeters high free of the neck. A couple millimeters, the enough load is not that of the foot, believing it's that of the ground to move forward.

He also enjoys the one who is going to create the habit of running. Especially in pre-race moments. You will buy the new shoes, premiering pants, t-shirt and watch and deleting and organizing the weekly calendar. Flip over. It's also flipping: holding your head very well on your neck, raising your feet a few millimeters above the ground.

Those who run from time to time enjoy less. His body and his head are wasted, and in that round of collar that is knot, he is only broken with choking in two senses. A couple millimeters above and a couple millimeters below. A hole that's too big opens up here. A desert of sand and nothing. Everything (almost everything) against the wind.

All three have something in common: the spleen. At some point, the spleen can reach any of the three. And at that moment, there's no more than breathing well. Preferably in depth. Preferably through the nose. Turn the body into a respiratory center. If possible without stopping running. Silence. No need to mutate. But it's not the same thing that you grab the spleen that you grab at the spleen.

I've listened to my brother that about ten days ago we ran and we spent the rest of the year tired. And I would say that he is right. We are trained in altars, slogans, demonstrations, parties... and we are stuck to concerns, street observations, research, news and headlines. Just two months after running through Euskal Herria, we took as a witness the words of Karmele Jai. The schools, the streets, the neighborhoods and the villages that we clothed, we got excited, we cried and we burst with joy; the rain, the snow and the sun, we showed up strongly. And now that it is also Euskaraldia, we are trying to place the Catalejos on the nose and advance months in the distribution of tasks and efforts to dazzle, to see the general moment and the general space, to analyze the general moment and the general focus beyond the sterile complaint, since the incidence at the general moment and at the general level is more complex.

And what years have we been saying that it is not limited to the feast of a few days, that the Basque has to be everyday, that in order to use it, it has to be eroded, and we take Artze in the mouth that said well… And the new festivities come and above all the springs. Reality. And the realities are the playful spaces of the schools, the halls of the institutes, the potes, the culture rooms, the workspaces, the corners of the houses (and the centers), the shops, the health centers, the centers of attention of the administration… The realities are our circles, which influence us, but especially those we do. These spaces are very controllable. Yes, politicians, parliament, government, administration… Those spaces are not entirely controllable, but they are very controllable. My next circle also cuts your nearby circle and you (teacher, colleague, friend, crew…) as part of my circle, think about how the force we can do is. The party we can do. When we understand and believe that our school play space of our children and students, our children's and students' high school walkway, the poteo of the streets, the people's culture room, the workplace, the house, the store, the health center and the care center are ours, the day we understand and we believe what and how we can influence them, we will be tired of doing it, not being.

The Basque country needs agents. Each of the Basque speaking agents should do so. And taking into account that also from the periphery of the knowledge of the Basque Country we can and have accomplices in our environment..., he takes account of how many small circles we can cut together.

Two months. It ran. But today and here the Basque needs us running in the courtyard of the school sharing games with the children, running in the halls of the institute with the students, running to reach that beautiful cultural offer, spreading the corners of the work center, running the corners of the house to the center, making that abusive gesture to the clothesline that is going to close running… These circles are the reality of the Basque. These circles are each party point. These are the circles now and here. Yours and mine.