Return to Cardio

Yesterday after 14 days of recuperating I decided to go for a run.

The feeling has been building for nearly a week now but I as hesitant to jump into any activities so quickly after the accident. But yesterday it as was as good as it gets. It wasn't raining, I as in good spirits, none of the fatigue from work or anything, and I had time.

I decided to walk from my condo to the lake. It was a nice walk, probably about 1.5km at most, but I as warmed up due to the brisk pace I kept. It was probably more of a jog, and I try not to focus too much on my steps and let my paranoia disappear.

When I arrived I quickly increased to a trot. I felt my ankles and knees and calves like I've never before - 3 months of completely no running has shocked my system to the core. They weren't exactly complaining, but they made themselves known. I felt the ground beneath my feet, I felt my calves, I felt the wind rushing through my ears. I probably ran at a fast pace. I thought of slowing it down so I could last about 5 loops (1 loop is 1.1km) but I decided to just run at the pace I felt like running, all other 'should' or 'would' be gone.

As I as nearing my second loop I have yet to slow down. Also bumped into all these runners I have not seen for a while - this uncle who ran the opposite way from others - we smiled at each other, both unable to stop. He is a good consistent runner. The guy Rashid - whom I wrote in my first few entries of this blog. He was there too, and ran fast like it as a walk in the park.

I probably slowed down a pitch in my third loop, and as much as I wanted to continue and make it to 5 (I'm a sucker for keeping a routine), I told myself to take it easy on the first run. I stopped after the third loop, since I have another 1.5km walk back to my place.

It as a nice cool down walk home. I passed subang parade, carrefour and all these people miling around and about. I realized I'm blessed to live in an area where exercise is not a challenge but of abundance. It is here here I regularly go for a spin, my condo has a nice pool where I would swim for hours in (one time an old lady went down from her place to the pool and asked me"are you training for the olympic?" HAHAHA), and there's even the gym should I feel too lazy to go out. And running is everyhere!

I'm going to have to start registering my dad for races. He's been itching to run something and been pestering me to sign him up. I don't know whether I'd join him as I already enjoy running the same distance without wasting any money, but I have always liked the event atmosphere. all I know is, I know exactly what race I would be doing this year for sure and it is none other than the Penang Bridge! hahahah good running place, and good food. No complaints!

Yeay to fitness!!

Beautiful Rush

Did a very very short stint of cardio today. There is no time for me to fit in most everything, but I take what I can get.

Woke up early, got dressed, and got going. The roads were amazingly clear, with only a smattering of cars here and there, and the sun was just about up. It was the kind of morning you would envision if the town is attacked by zombies. I love the combination of public holidays and lazy Malaysians. Malaysia rules!!!

The rush of trying out a new route. I was smiling.

Too short, I arrived at boyfriend's house. Wasn't even pounding. wasn't even sweaty. Still it was worth it, that physical body movement. being at one again with the roads. Feeling the sun on my skin.

I get a little too poetic and dramatic sometimes, but really, there is an absolute beauty in speed and adrenaline.

Off to London for 10 days. Damnit. I'll miss my sun and humidity.

42km

In short, a marathon is a distance that demands your attention, commands your respect, and sends you whimpering and babbling to yourself at the end.

It was more than I bargained for.

Running in a race I was so severely unprepared for, physically, mentally, nutrition wise (I was a charity case from Yim and Zaki and Syah throwing me extra powergels, OSR, etc... thanks guys) could only be the scariest thing I've done in my life.

But it was also quite lovely. To be honest, I thought it was quite romantic, in a way I could not describe. Only the realization that you're 2 hours away from daybreak, in the most out of the world pain you could ever imagine - ready to cry to anyone in any second, dizzy, sad, exhausted - could make you think that despite everything sucky right that moment, it was one of the most awesome things in the world.

"One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful."
- Sigmund Freud

It was just you and your thoughts, and you have to bring them home to matter what.

To tell you the truth I wished I could say that I thought about a lot of things while doing the 42km. I've always enjoyed long distance anything because it gives me the company of my thoughts, which I almost always welcome entirely. But when the pain crept in around my feet at kilometer 12, and never let go like a French lover, my thoughts circulated around these 3:

1) Just a little bit, one foot forward, one foot forward, one foot forward.
2) 1km done, another 1km to go yeayy!!!! come on come on come on! (repeated 14 times)
3) Ya Allah sakitnyer. ohmigod. maybe I should stop. WHAT AM I TRYING TO PROVE?

I did not know why I decided to go ahead with the race. I go back and forth between reasons: a part of it is, in the words of Haza, material gains - I WANT that finisher's t-shirt, which leads to the other second part, the ego boosting 'Yo, I done a marathon - you?'. Other parts also being: I just wanted to see if I could finish this, I just wanted to know how far I could go, and also, I really thought that it's going to be a lot of fun at the same time. I remember telling myself, "You already enjoy running, plus you can always walk if you can't run. What's not to enjoy?"

So I finished it. All 42km of it, of which I spent the remaining 16km walking. Just walking. My knees have given out by that time, my feet were long gone. Did I tell you I was doing them in Vibram Five Fingers? Yes. And did I tell you that the longest run I did prior to this was 10km? (I knew I told everyone I did 13km... I lied... because to tell you the truth, I couldn't swallow 10km of 'LSD' either)

To anyone attempting a marathon, let me tell you that it is doable, provided that that cut-off time is more than 6 hours (I finished it in 6 hours 50 minutes :). I have done it in the most Commando style possible, sketchy 10ks in between, mentally surprised (found out about this Friday night). But, if I may:

1) It is totally more rewarding, and satisfying, to complete it with proper and sound training. This would be a totally sweet thing to feel when you cross the finish line, with a good time, and overwhelmed sensors. You worked hard for it, how many weeks before. You will walk on air afterwards, for maybe a few days.

2) Respect the distance. 42km is a mother with a metal whip and a ciggarette dangling at the corner of her smirk. She is relentless, continuous, daunting, and she will never let you forget that fact, even 40km into the whole thing.

3) Remember this quote, all throughout your pain and suffering, and I am sure you'd be alright:

"Mind is everything; muscles mere pieces of rubber. All that I am, I am because of my mind."
-Pavo Nurmi

I would like to give my biggest and heartiest Thanks to Zaki the running librarian for keeping me company and guiding me the whole 25km of the race. I would have given up to a walk at kilometer 12 if it weren't for him. He decided we should incorporate walk breaks into our run since I was horribly in pain. I was the reason for his Personal Worst. But I have no doubt there'll be more PBs in the future for this guy. There is no other kind act that could replace a runner's selflessness in forgoing the race and helping a flailing runner. Karma points for that.

- Shoutouts to KASH and HAZA who were so inspiring that I felt like belting out "Ain't no Mountain high enoughhhhh" when I watched them crossing the line. Rais for the race kit pick-up :), Syah, Yim, Ijam, Ian, Ziff, Diket, Det (betulker semua nama ni?) for the company and the 'motivational' prep before/after the race. Also for Khairul Anuar a.k.a Metalhead for the company after until my bus arrives at 6pm, and Tey who also stays in the same hostel as I did. We were namedropping Haza like it's hot!

Fellowship of Girls

I had a fun time last weekend with 2 wonderful girls.

It's true what we've been told many many times: the most important element in anything we do (but in this case, sports) is the mental strength and willpower. I remember reading from somewhere that in most cases during a testing or a trying race course, the mind gives up 40% earlier than the body, and when it does, the body follows at an alarming speed. Also, a friend once told me, "If your mind told your body to stop, it will stop. So don't tell it to stop, and it won't."

My benchmark for my own willpower changes from time to time. When I was doing a steady flow of 10k races, it would always be the worst 10k run. If I could survive that, then this 10k is nothing. And then I went to Nepal, which for me was a test of mind, with the heavy bag and knee pain and the elements of weather and the endless miles. Every race after that, through a struggling phase, I'd remember the worst memory in Nepal and told myself to push through. This usually happens when I go up a really monstrous hill or during the last leg of a long race where you just wanted to stop.

Doing a lot of sports at once helped me with my willpower. While a particularly testing pose in yoga where one had to squat for a nice steady 4 minutes, I forced my mind to think of this particular time when I cycled up a really bad hill. I could do this, the burn in my thighs now is nothing like the burn I felt then, I told myself. When I am climbing up a hill and just wanted to stop pedaling, I went back to the time I in-line skated up a hill in Kiara and nearly went backwards from the lack of strength. But I made it, and therefore I MUST DO IT.

The worst hill I climbed was this one hill in Kg. Limau Manis. It was a short one, but very steep. I have never faced hills like that before. I think it only took me about 2-3 minutes? but it was the worst 3 minutes ever. All visualisation of other bad moments failed when I realized I was about to reverse back downhill. With nothing else to do, I chanted a steady mantra of, "Just go forward just go forward just go forward," and, "Tahan sikit tahan sikit tahan sikit tahan sikit," until I reached the sweet end.

The worst race I ran was Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon. I did a half-marathon, it was a gruesome distance to run with bad knees and feet. I felt the pain at 2km and it never let on until the end. I started to fight with myself at 16km, and I think it was only thanks to my mind that I managed to finish the race. In one interview Joan Benoit advised, "Don't look at the mile markers," but that's what I did. It was horrible chasing for one signage to another. I just wanted the race to end! The only saving grace was that my whole system had given up except my mind. I just admitted to the pain and suffering and told myself that at one point this will all be over but before it does, I'd probably just have to go through it. Not fighting to keep optimistic or to distract myself was the best thing I did on that race. I just surrendered to become the walking dead.

Last weekend was a new benchmark for me. I did not know how I did it, but I certainly did. I think I yelped and cried out, "I can't do this!" at 3km to the end. But I had an amazing company of a heavily mustached man who was beside me pushing and also a fantastic girl who was an awesome showcase of the mantra, "Just keep going." It was a sweet victory to finally stop. It was there and then that I wished to God I did not cry out, "I can't do this!" at the last leg. I need to be stronger than that!

I need to remember this for the next one. No crying out.

Running On Empty

Today I went for a run.

My verdict: hm... I don't know.

Here's what I do like: the sound of my feet slapping the ground, the luxurious feeling of ultimate stability and strength in both my knees and no pain at all. I also like the sun on my back and on the curve of my shoulders, warming them up like microwave ovens. I like the shadow that ran beside me as well, strong and black and in form, never wavering. 

 I like the fact that I can go anywhere without having to brake. Or do a flip turn.

 What I don't like: how tiring it was. I have lost the art of running, if there was an art to it at all. I think I only ran for 10 minutes, and I'm pretty sure the distance was less than 2km, nothing more, but I just felt tired. I was thinking about how it easy it was to hop on my bike and get a good workout, or jump into the pool and feel physically taxed.

 Returning to running for me is a bit like giving your first love a second chance. Over the period of separation, so many things have changed. You are not the same person you were, and so is the other partner. The bad thing about giving it another go, like in any recycled relationship, is expecting things or each other to remain the same. I thought, well, I didn't know what I thought. Maybe I thought we'd hit it off. That I'd just be striding with ease like the old days. I never expected to stop at minute 10, because I felt a twinge in my knees and I got so nervous that the injury is back.

 Worrying while working out doesn't, excuse the pun, work out.

But I do feel there's hope. Even if I went back, and squeezed in some good 2 hours of yoga. 

Bt 18 - Peres Hill

 Today I very anxiously and gladly joined Kooky Kash for my first ever group bike ride. I was reaally looking forward to it: the most mileage I'd gotten on my bike was a measly 4km and my dreams of being in a triathlon is slowly diminishing. But at the same time I was so nervous - Could I even go up? What if I tripped and fell? How hard really is the hill?

  I went to bed with racing thoughts and slept fitfully. When I woke up this morning it was 4am, and then again at 530am. This time I did not get back to bed, but played the internet and had cereal. I dozed off for a while until 630am. Left at 7am, and predictably got lost even with a detailed map and direction on how to get there.

 When we started the ride I was instantly left behind. Later I realized that my speed was just too damned slow, when I thought that that was a normal speed. One of the guys stayed back with me; and he dished out some good tips and advices - the stem of my bike is too long for me, thus making it hard for me to handle my brakes (which is why my hands always hurt!), he told me about the concept of changing gears and how to gauge your speed. This certain body part of mine was starting to hurt and throb real badly. Throughout the ride it was the only thing that was a negative, everything else was just awesome. 

 When we joined the rest of the group they were already at the top looking like they have a good 15 minutes rest or so. Kash has told me about the next part: a 9-10km ride uphill. She parted with a sound advice: keep spinning. At first I was wondering what that means - some sort of a cycling limbo that I do not know about, but then I figured out the hard way when we went slowly uphill. It is suicide to stop cycling - you just don't feel like starting again. So I didn't stop, and cycled, no matter how awful everything felt. Even my breathing was labored and my thighs felt like they're steam fried. As we're about to reach the top she said, "the last part's a bit steep," and instantly I wished she didn't say it because the ones we went through were already steep, I had no idea how the next one's steep is going to be like!

 Going up, I was already building up the nervousness about going down. I was scared of how fast my bike can get - I have always been scared of speed, especially speed that is controlled by me. And seeing all the other cyclists zipping down like colorful shadows made me nervous. Kash told me to keep holding on to my brakes and brake cautiously. As we sped down she was like, "let go don't brake, enjoy the downhill!"

 So I did. Some parts were scary and I felt like I was going out of control - being built less sturdy has its disadvantages - that I could see my shadow quivering and shaking. But the speed on these curves felt really nice, no cars to worry about, ample of space, and wind in your face. I couldn't really remember what how the rest of the ride paned out except that I both wanted it to be over (body parts were hurting!) and didn't want it to end (I'm whizzing by awesome sceneries with the wind on my face). When I hopped off the bike and started to walk, my legs felt like they're made of rubber. I had to lean against the car for a while. Kash laughed at me, said, "Well, why did you think I am standing still right now?" hahahha.

 I am REALLY glad I joined this ride. It was an amazing first time for me and I love how my thighs burn and my lungs felt like exploding. Haven't felt like that for a while. I loved how mentally challenging it gets. Also, the camaraderie after the whole thing is over. Listening to grown men's jokes has always been a favorite after growing up with crude, aging, but feisty uncles and tok ayahs. I am amazed at how these so-called 'senior' uncles smoked me - and I mean SMOKED - from the beginning until the end. Why, they're splashing about in the sungai when I finally arrived, panting.