There’s a whole list of French words that translate to stubborn. By far my favorite is tête de mule. It’s the easiest one for me to remember. I also like têtu et têtue.
I know this girl, she est très têtue. Mon ami têtu (my stubborn friend) and I have a secret.
This femme (woman) is très, très têtue. Once her mind is made up, it’s made up. Final answer. End of story. Don’t waste your breath.
Pause tale…quick thought
What does it take to run (courir)? I don’t mean – what does it take to run a marathon. I mean – what does it take to run period? To pick yourself up and juste run.
To Run / Courir:
- Roaming / Promener
- Utterly / Complètement
- Nonstop / Sans arrêt
Thought fades…return to tale
She ran far and fast and hard.
She ran, until she decided she was going to walk… Parce que elle est têtue – (because she is stubborn) and her mind was made up. Elle marché vite (she walks fast).
“Should we be worried?” the running relay team asked me. “I don’t know,” I LIED! Knowing all the while – we were in for a long wait.
Elle est fatiguée (she is tired). I knew she was spent. I knew when she started her last leg of the relay she was done. And I also knew IF she made the decision to walk, she was walking the whole long eight miles, in the dark, by herself. And I knew there was no talking her out of it. Been there, done that, ain’t going back.
I knew she’d finish. Être têtu est une bonne chose (to be stubborn is a good thing). She never gives up! But, how long would it take pour (for) la femme obstinée (stubborn)? Je ne savais pas (I didn’t know)…
Ninety minutes went by – I knew she was walking.
“Should we go look for her?” the girls asked me, knowing if I was worried then they should be too. “Give her a bit more time,” I said – silently rolling my eyes while thinking – believe me you, this is the last woman you want to go “pick-up,” if she’s having a bad run.
The team’s worry went on. I just wanted to sleep, but the concerned women kept asking my opinion, “Do you think she’s okay?” “Yep, no worries,” I smiled. Again in my mind, thinking “têtue, très têtue!”
I felt like I was in cahoots with some grand walking secret. I also had to calculate in my head – her walk time for the eight miles, because at some point I might actually have to send in the troops. I figured she was walking the full eight miles but you never know, so safety first.
While trying to seem concerned, I quickly processsd the math in my head, I added several minutes for the terrain and a possible potty break. I figured she should round the corner in no more than two hours and fifteen minutes. This would be my pulse point. I had my finger on the button – ready to push it – when…
“She’s here!” (“Elle est ici”) Someone said, “She’s here.”
We quickly switched out runners and she climbed in the van. Everyone talked about how hilly the course must have been (to have taken so long). “Did you have to walk?” “Did you get sick?” The questions…oh the questions.
She ran far and fast and hard.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Vite! Vite!