Friday, September 4, 2009

Lake at Ramadhan

Finally after nearly a week of not running, I went for a nice run. In fact, I think I pushed myself to go longer than normal... and I couldn't even do that when I wasn't fasting!

 Last Wednesday I was all psyched to go for a run. Have not been running since Friday and my feet were itching. Plus all my ramadhan run so far was only 3km more or less. I'm a bit dissatisfied with the distance. I would like to think that I'm the kind of runner that runs longer rather than harder. Plus I would like to build up the mileage first and then concentrate on speed. 

 Anyway last Wednesday I knew I was sort of heading into a running disaster. I didn't have anything for sahur, only a glass of water, because I was too lazy to go down and prepare something. And during ramadhan we all leave work early - at 4pm. So that wednedsay found me at the lake at 515pm. Definitely early and definitely plenty of time for me to run slow.

 I told myself that I want to break the dreaded 5.5km curse that's been latching itself on my back for weeks now. I figured now's the time to do it since my only excuse for not being able to push it to 6.6km was because time wasnt on my side. Since I have about 2 hours to run all I can, there's no excuse to not complete it.

 The first 3 km was, as usual, hard and painful. I took it reallllly slow, I call it my Grandma speed, thanks to a grandma that I paced myself on the first time I went running 2 months back. I told myself to just concentrate on my breathing and form, and not be swayed to run faster when a runner rushes past. I tend to do that; follow a faster runner's pace when they run past me. It's a default setting in my feet or something.

 The last 1.1km felt like a congratulatory lap. I was patting myself on the back the whole way - I'd actually added one more lap to my stagnant mileage in ramadhan... and it was scorching hot! It was so hot that I could feel the sweat turning warm under my tshirt.

 My left ankle hurt during this run. 

 I didn't run on thursday.

 But I went running today, and for the first time ever I was actually happy to see the overcast sky. I've always loved running with the sun shining... I like it that I sweat more and my joints don't hurt as much when it is hot outside. But I was really suffering on my wednesday run - with the lack of fuel and dehydration afterwards - that I was actually grateful when the sun was hidden behind a thick cloud. And it wasn't the kind of grey that I dislike - it was just... not scorching hot. 

 I took it slow this time around too, telling myself to enjoy the run and not focus so much on the time, but on completing 6 laps. And it was such a great run; I didn't even feel tired or burned out even after 3km. I think the macaroni goreng I ate during sahur helped as well. It was only in the last lap when I ran faster that I started to feel my heart gasping for air. I love it when you get to feel a great run like this. My legs hurt all the time though... but I wasn't mentally down or huffing and puffing. In fact, I felt like I could do more. But I didn't.

 So this week, 12km total... or to be really accurate, 13.2 km. I'm happy with the distance...well, I would love to hit the 20km mark like the weeks before, but I'll take 13.2 km over 9 measly km/week... like last week.

 On a different note, yesterday watched my boyfriend on his futsal friendly against the malaysian team. The team came in an impressive contigent eventhough it was a friendly; with the coaches and the net of balls, and all the players decked out in malaysian jerseys. Their warm up was a crowd puller too - they were systematic and efficient, hardly any balls straying off the path or bouncing away from the team. Their goalies were good as well, as opposed to my boyfriend's team's goalie, who was still smoking at the goalpost. His team's warmup was haphazard too, one guy doing leg stretches and another bending his back and another jogging in place. You could see the comparison in experience and teamwork. I think any team, with proper discipline and teamwork would be a smashing success.

 But some of the players were not professional though. Of course our team lost - the malaysian players, aside from being efficient with the setting of goals and what not, were confident and brazen, buoyed by the fact that they are wearing the malaysian jersey. My boyfriend's team, on the other hand, were nervous and strung out, stressed and pressed to score or at least create a scare in the opponent's defense den and create an impression. 

 During the last few minutes of the second half, as my boyfriend were hassling the guy who was possessing the ball, he inadvertently elbowed my boyfriend on the mouth. It was a cheap blow - and it was as obvious to everyone who was watching. My boyfriend cried out in protest, and for a moment stared at the guy for a while. I could tell he was fighting the urge not to fight back, as most guys would. I mean, an elbow to the mouth - even I would be pissed, and no contact was made even. He wisely turned and stalked out of the game. Later when we came to him I found out that the right side of his face was swollen like a big fat wiener. His lips were busted... and there was a gash on the upper lip. His t-shirt were bloody and you could see his whole face puffing up.

 I thank God he was game enough to be civil when he shook hands with his attacker.

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