Malakoff Run 12km Dec 20th.

 The race day and the race itself is 90% awesome and 10% hell.

 

 Awesome was because this is the first race I was surrounded with people I know AND love. My dad, who is my bestfriend and role model and good friend and mentor. He's one of my best friends, honestly. I could tell him ANYTHING (and I did - still do). When I was a teenager and started acting angsty and adolescent-y, he adapted to it amazingly. Most parents, (like my mom), would check their kids bag, or read their diaries and prevent them from doing this and that and this and that, but my dad's strategy to raising his 3 daughters is simple: treat them like a friend! My friends started smoking and doing crazy stuff at 14 or 15, which causes my mom to panic and reign me even more tighter, but my dad's response was: "You know it yourself what's good and what's bad. I have told you enough and I have told you repeatedly. I'm trusting you as a young adult to make your decisions. Remember I'm always here for you." I have never let him down. Not even once. I could tell him about my friends openly: who smokes what, who does what with who, and he'll listen with either horror on his face or a smile. He made me feel like I have a 'good' friend that I could relate to while all of our 'bad' friends were doing stuff. 

 

Anyway WHAT am I doing yammering about my dad?

 

 My oldest cousin - abg zual - is also joining. He's an avid gym goer and have only recently started to race. His only vice is eating fried oily food. Other than that, he's somewhat 'healthy'. My boyfriend is also suckered into running the race! haha. Me and him were always arguing about our own sports of choice - he played football professionally before, and I just run - and he always said that running does not have a point and he can't imagine just running without getting a prize or the top spot. But my dad cajoled him into joining and he had no choice but to say yes.

 

 We left subang jaya early in one car. My cousin gave us this Powerbar to try and to me they tasted like mushed chocolate. I didn't enjoy it. We parked at Kiwi Express Bistro to avoid the hassle of looking for a parking and also to meet my cousin and her husband who's joining the 7km run. we boarded the packed bus to the running venue. My stomach started to feel funny. My boyfriend wanted to pee badly. My dad looked like he just inhaled the laughing gas - all smiling and excited. My cousin was rubbing himself all over with this 'ubat berangin' which permeated the whole bus and had some people covering their noses. hehe

 

Leaving the apartment. My dad's vest and harris's tshirt are the only thing you could see.

when we arrived my cousin deposited the bag, while me and my boyfriend looked for the port-a-loos. They were crowded! My stomach was already rumbling and I know if I were to just 'release' them, even teran for a second, they'll, well, you know. But we have less than 10 minutes so I had no choice but to mentally will my stomach to hold on for another 12km or another 3 hours or so. My boyfriend did not manage to pee too. my dad and my cousin thought my predicament was funny and decided to call me Cik Mek Kemut. As in, "lari atas bukit kemut jgn tak kemut... terkeluar kang."

 

I had reservations running this race. My knees hurt. and my PF too. But I figured it was the last race and all... except that I hated racing when I was hobbling all the time. There's no quality in that. I vowed to myself to try to run all the way. Run, no matter how painful, since I'm going to take a 17 week rest after this.

 

 My PF acted up on the second km. My knees surprisingly were okay until the second lap. On the first lap, my PF pain were bearable, and I soldiered on. I lost valuable minutes when I went downhill because I was a tad too careful with my pace... I went realllll slow that many people passed me. the uphills were a killer - no one was kidding when they said the hills would be hell! but I enjoyed it. I passed a lot of struggling people uphill. i just concentrated on my breathing and maintaining my pace. I think i kept to my slow and easy 7min/km - my easy run pace.

 

 all this were ok until I reach the first downhill for the second lap. My knees started to hurt - intensely. my PF at this point had become more unbearable, and that, coupled with my knee pain, made me stop. i think I stopped twice; another one was towards the end, that time slightly longer walk period, about 10 mins.

 

It was then I decided that i MUST stop running in order to recover. No training or running in between races have finally caught up to me; I felt mentally tired, drained of energy and sucky. I could always handle mental running, most of the times I enjoyed it because I know I am capable of beating through it, but I knew it then that I am simply not fit. My pace were not steady, and my breathing were uneven and at times, laboured. This is not how I want to be running for the rest of my life. This is not how I SEE myself running. I was a strong runner. I was a competitive runner. I was someone who enjoyed running, not someone who was wishin for the race to be over with (I was thinking it all the time during the race). 

 

 Having said that, I actually enjoyed the route. I would never step foot at this part of the city, and I'm glad I got to run through it. There were cute dogs, nice aunties in caftans waving us good luck, a house with funky windows, colorful shophouses, and some sort of a peace to the neighbourhood. And the hills, well, have i mentioned how much I love the uphills?

 

 I think I arrived at the finishing area about 1:30. Yes, it's slow. and it's my cross to bear. ButI wasn't bothered. I am going to recover: that is my plan. I am going to bike and swim: that is my plan. When I have plans and goals, I am happy.

 

 I joined my boyfriend and cousin who have already enjoyed their meals, and also my cousin and husband who have also finished the 7km, AND finished their meals, waiting for my dad to finish collecting his food. My dad took it hard: he's been doing a steady 10km but not with hills, and he usually get caught up in race events where he would try to 'tunjuk macho' and start out real fassst. both my cousin and boyfriend passed him on the second uphill. he is finally humbled! I think his time was 1:20.

Why does my dad look sad? itu muka orang sedih naik bukit pancit. i look like minachi pocahontas.

So my running days is officially on hiatus until April. I am actually looking forward to this. i cannot wait to recover well and come back to running a much better, stronger, and faster race. Oh I can just feel me sprinting towards the finishing line already!

 

 and Project Tri will oficially commence January. Or maybe next week if I am joining kookykash biking. Next year Powerman? wooo.