Running: The Best Of

Me and my whole family are all talking about this Malakoff run. This time around, few more of my cousins are joining and also my colleagues (upon my insistence).

Caught up in the excitement, sometimes I wondered if i should just forgo my 'retirement' plan and join them in the run too.

It seems that I'm retiring at the wrong moment - my sister (whom I have given up trying to make her run) has been asking me about running, and which race she should apply to.

For the millionth time after my knee injury, I wished I didn't have degenerative knee bones. Or that it's just some sort of an injury, that could get better in time. I look at other people running everyday and think, "How come they don't get any knee pain?" I regard other runners with some sort of an amazement - how could your knees take it but not mine?

Sometimes I feel like not giving a hoot and running through all the pain. But I want to be able to walk during my pregnancy (something women with bad knees like mine can't do). And I'm pretty sure there is a reason for everything, even if we can't see it yet.

So I am sticking through my promise - no running events anymore - at least, nothing that amounts to more than 3 per year. I would not completely stop running though, I think that is fairly impossible, but I would not run until I have to run. I'm pretty ok with that.

Thank You, feet, for keeping me company for 13 wonderful years. We had great moments.

Yesterday, while cleaning up my place, I found a box of things that belonged to me in high school. As is by pure coincidence, out came my sporting paraphernalia; hockey shin pads, tapes, squash balls, worn out badminton racquets, and most importantly, my running bibs.

1246 - my first ever running race number, when I was 13. It was a cross country, distance maybe 3km, and I think I finished it waaay after the event has finished. By the time I arrived, everybody was gone, and the tents were all cleared off the field. I was dumbfounded. I thought I was in Twilight Zone.

1355 - second race of the same distance, which I ran blindly without stopping trying to chase the top girl in school to no avail. My first ever trophy. I got number 13. Lucky number 13. This was the year when running started to make sense.

42:23 - my best 10km time. I was 15 and was also in field hockey. field hockey worked your endurance and speed like hell. Joining cross country was easy because we ran so much during field hockey. We had many different coaches and everyone was insane.

400m, 800m, 1500m, 4x400m - my favorite events. I HATED competing but not when I know I would win HAha! Out of the 4, 800m was the hardest because I always had a hard time pacing this distance. you burnt out going too fast too soon, but lose out when you started too slow. My winning 1500m time was 5:25. I was 16-17. My boyfriend then was the school's top runner but I had no idea I would be marrying that guy.

suicides and horses - my favorite running drills.

Bullet with Butterfly Wings (Smashing Pumpkins) - my all time favorite running song. the song started out slow but then explodes into magic. Great for tempo run.

Rancid (out come the wolves) - favorite running album. I then ran while holding a freaking discman.

Hyde Park - the best running place oversea.

After an emotional fight - the best time to do your tempo run.

Gentle Pickup - my favorite Runner's World term.

Reebok Premier Road - favorite running shoes. I have 2 of them!

5k - favorite running distance.

Writing this makes me want to run.

I spoke to one of the cyclists whom I cycle with, and he told me that he too used to run. In fact, "I used to run with the Pacesetters, even had me a running girlfriend too," he said. I asked him, "Don't you miss it?"

"You've just go find something else that hooks you the same way."

Running in my head

Did not manage to do anything yesterday night. Got out of work late, and by then too tired to do anything.

This entry might be beneficial just to me, as I am going to write about the best moments I remember from working out. I always do this when I get stuck in a rut I can't seem to shake out of. I think the motivation I get from recycling the high of past workouts helps.

The Big Fun Run run, Sep 26th.
I wasn't really nervous about this race. Firstly, it's a 5k, a distance I'm pretty sure I could cover easily. Secondly, I'm running with my sisters, whihc means that if I was so out of shape I could easily turn this to be a fun family thing and run with them. Thirdly, I did not have any pressure on myself. No goals, no target. Of course, I wanted to run faster - who doesn't? But I'm never going to beat myself up if I didn't.

We were late to arrive; the race started at 11am (can you imagine, so late in the day?) and when we stepped foot on the park we only get to see the last of the runners shuffling away. I ran to the starting point. I was slightly disappointed; secretly I have wanted to start the race proper and run my best. After jogging with my sisters for about 1 minute feeling dejected (not to mention that I lost my Oyster card) they persuaded me to run on my own. I did not need any more push after that.

I ran. Hard. I ran. Fast. I ran. Happy. There were 2 female runners also latecomers - their pace were good, indicating that they run regularly. I followed them. My legs started to warm up. And then without meaning to I passed the girls. So many walkers at this point - the runners have all shot up 5 minutes ahead of me. I picked up pace, did not even know why I was so careless, why I didn't pace properly. All I knew is I just wanted to see how far I could run this hard, this much.

The wind was cold, my fingers numb. My heart started to burn. Somebody yelled out, "Nice form! Keep it up!" and I surged forward, harder. I realized I missed this part of myself, this identity I have left behind, unwillingly at times. The sprinter in me. I could only remember running so strong like this when I was in school. Doing mile-repeats. Vomiting water at the end of it. Happiness by the kilometers. My knees don't allow me to do this anymore. Now sometimes when I look at other female runners my age running strong I felt a twinge, thinking that I could never have that so good now. Oh well.

I slowed down a notch at kilometer 4. Just a notch. 3 weeks of being dormant. The wind was so cold by then, I can't barely feel the sweat trinkling down my back. I didn't think I sweat much. Is it going to be over already? So soon? Maybe this is why I run slow now. I hate having to end a run so fast. I want more time, to summon my old high school track team moniker - Nadia Bullet! Skinny but speedy, always steady. Always steady. My bicycle is named Steady Eddy.

When I arrived at the chute I lifted up my arms in the kind of joy only I know. Nobody took my picture; I had to ask for the goodie bag. But I was a winner already, I felt good.

The Runner

Last night I went out for a run. A short one. I haven’t been really training when it comes to my running. I prefer to let my knees take more rest than they needed, only running when the urge hits. And last night my lack of running showed.

It’s just one of those days when you feel wistful. For the most part, I am ok with what I have and what I could do. For every shortcomings I have, there are many others who couldn’t even enjoy a simple walk. But there would be days where I feel somewhat frustrated with the situation.

My running partner was fast and seemingly has no limits to her energy. She kept a fast, stiff pace, and the only thing that was more audible than the steady poundings of our feet against the tarmac was my labored breathing. Granted, we did spend most of the run talking; but she was steadily moving forward, and I was struggling to keep abreast and the same time trying to regulate my breathing. It was at that moment I realized what a far cry this was to the Me before – the only struggling I did was during trainings where I really pushed myself, and even then I wanted to pant. The old me was not fast, but at least she was strong.

Sometimes I miss feeling the buzz of wind passing through my ears. I miss knowing that running is THE best thing I have in my life, the one thing I could do and do it right, do it well. That sense of belonging was what helped shaped me in my teenage years, where friends learned the art of smoking and chasing the dragons, wild parties and what have yous, and I was at the track, doing my runs up the bleachers and around the dreaded ‘oval’. Some girls were the Prom Queen, the Socialite, the Class Nerd, the Trainwreck, and I was always in the middle – the Runner, not too glamorous but not a complete social overcast, complete with the rubber elastic around my wrist so I could tie my hair up anywhere, anytime.

Nevertheless I finished the run with the faster-than-I-would-like pace. I’m proud that well, at least I still ‘have it’. I might be gasping like I’m having a heart attack on a flat route, but I finished it, that’s what matters. And the best part was my knees were not complaining. In fact, they have been silent for some time now.

What’s your weekend cardio? I love the weekend. Too many things to do, too little time. Cherish every single second!

Blues

I once wrote a detailed blueprint of a reconstructed one whole day. Instead of just 24 hours, what if one whole day consists of 48 hours, with 36 hours of it daylight. I was 22, already frazzled juggling lab sessions, thesis, tests, family, sports and friends. I needed a break and I spent the whole day conjuring up an ideal one whole day for me. 

 If there's one thing I learned, is that time will never be enough if you don't think it's enough for you. The concept of time is as vague as the concept of happiness. Everybody wants to be happy, but what's happy? Where is that place? Happiness, like time, is a state of mind. Being grateful is the way to go. Grateful, for the time you still have on this world, grateful, for being able to do the things you do.

 I have been busy lately. I'll admit, I don't like it. It messes my routine, and as much as I try to keep my workouts at the right time and frequency, I'm happy that I get them done at all. Whatever I missed, I have to let it go. It's hard, but I'm not so anal about it. Not anymore. Especially when time's too short to be frustrated. A good dinner with dad, who was really nice to help me fix my shabby sofa bed for my new pad, was a much better option than to leave him in the mercy of maggi cup noodles just so I could have my cardio snort. I told him about my work schedules, the demands of my project, etc. We'd be running the Siemens run together and I think I want to run side by side with him, IF I could maintain his pace. He's a speedier runner than me.

 Monday I went for a nice run. Nice as in, I can't remember how long it was, and how far I went. I can't even estimate the time and the distance. I was in a haze, thinking about nothing important, my mind blacking out the stressful stuff. I could feel the sun at the back of my neck and through the sleeves of my tshirt. The weather was warm and stuffy, like an oven, and I was the chicken pie, fluffy on the outside but frazzled really, inside. A good fluffy, though. I like it when life throws you a little bit of lemons. You get to appreciate the lemonades better when it's all your own instead of from the 7-11 (bad jokeeee).

 Bumped into a girl who used to be my junior in high school. We used to run together, when we were training for cross country. Those were the days were 'suicides repeats' were really suicidal, and tempo runs simply means you run hard until you puke... and then you slow down your pace. This is where I learned to put target holes on the back of other runners. Instantly, the whole world just freezes, and I think of nothing else but to move in for the kill.

 I love it. And I can't get enough.

 

 A raw poem found:

 

I need a calve massage;
to drain my lactic acid the fuck out;
you taste like brown sugar – and for a moment;
while your breath is hot on my neck, warm on my toes;
I forgot all about her;
when I’m running today.

Ode to Running

 Did not run at all this week. Excuses: it was raining on Thursday and Tuesday (my running days) and also I've been feeling quite lethargic lately. The real reason: I just didn't feel like it. 

 Running has, for more than a month now, been taking the backseat in favor of all the other sports of choice. My mind was trying hard to reject the idea - I HAVE BEEN RUNNING SINCE I WAS 12! I AM A RUNNER DAMN YOU! I HAD A PB OF 43' 44" FOR A 10K - but my heart's just not in it anymore. 

 The thing with me and running is that, well, it's like a first relationship-love kind of thing. I've always been someone who is bad with endings and goodbyes, always terrible with letting go. I am still the same person who said that if my house was caught on fire, the first thing I would save is the box filled with my journals I've been keeping since I was 12. I'm a memory junk whore. I always have a hard time moving on.

 Running is the same thing. My good, dependable, stable lover. The first choice I'd go to if I needed a pick me up. So easy and accommodating, no fuss or hassles involved. Always unconditional, never pushy. Remember all the good old times we had? You've seen me without makeup, smelled me without deodorant, gone through my stinky socks, my unladylike gasping sound, and you still think I was cool. Who cares about sucky boyfriends of my failing Chemistry tests? You waved them away, with a stiff 5k lope around the park. You always think I was pretty too, and you kept me company, since I was 12, then 14, then 16, then 18, 20, 22, 24, 26. 

 Thank you.

 Best running memories:

1) Emotional Hyde Park run, London 2007: I will always remember this run. Even though it was summer it was still cold by my Malaysian standard. I was lonely and heartbroken and far away from home. On the fourth loop of the park I started to cry and sped up. I always speed up when I started to cry don't I? Thank you for never judging me eventhough everyone thinks I'm crazy. I remember the moments when I ran: people playing frisbees, someone grilling barbecue, a brown large eyed dog looking at me with pure empathy.

2) UTP Early Morning Runs 2002-2004: What possessed me to run in the dark I don't know. Felt embarrassed when I ran past Rakan Masjid guys finishing their Subuh prayers. The Pak Guards cheered on me when I did a third loop. Finished my run as the whole world began to wake up. I felt better immediately.

3) Angry Melbourne Run, 2003: A fight with my then boyfriend led to an explosive run all the way up and down past the overhead at his South Yarra's student flat. I was covered from head to toe - beanie, scarves, jumpers, socks, etc - and running so hard but I was still not sweaty. It was dark at 5 pm and made me feel even more emotional. He caught up with me after a while and we made up with ice-cream hehehe. Good times.

4) Tempo Run with Cutie, 2005: When I was 17, I ran at the lake and saw a cute guy running as well. We checked each other out but nothing happened. Four years later, I was running at the same lake and saw the same guy running in the opposite direction. Silently, the both of us started to do 'tempo' runs to see who could loop one lake faster. We finished after 4 loops, to which he joined me gasping under the tree and said, "That, was the most tiring come-on I've ever done in my life." He had such great calves definition! Damn.

5) Field Hockey Stamina Run, 1999: Me and 2 girls from the team would walk to the lake, run and walk back. It was a nice nice routine, and we did it for many many months. The highlight of the run would be the gossip to and back from the lake. No, I did not know that Niza stuffed her bra! Oh to be 15 again.

6) Lari Dengan Ayah, 2001: This was the year I was free to study on my own for SPM. We would wake up , do our prayers, and drove to the lake to run. Ayah would always be a tad faster. He would never NEVER allow me to beat him, the moment he heard me coming from behind. He likes the flat route, I love the rolling hills. After one hour, we would stretch lazily at the carpark, and then head out for Roti Canai. I love you Ayah.

 So many memories. 

 Now off for a recreational run.

You'd better be running

One of the best thing that I like about running, is that there is no luck involved in the outcome. Unless a race did not start due to the rain, when the race begins, it will be just you against the whole wide world. There's something terribly romantic with the sport of running, something passionate about holding on to that final stop. Nothing or no one would or could ruin this for you unless you let them to.

 I was thinking just that as I was watching the final game between Lin Dan and Taufik Hidayat. There's no doubt about it, Lin Dan is a skillful player. But badminton is a game where luck is 40% part of the match. You could be the world number one but if your shuttlecock keeps on hitting the net, or worse, goes out of the line, you're dead.

 I realized that that is the reason why running was my favorite sport growing up. I was in field hockey but I was a bad team player. In running, there's simply no one or nothing to blame on your loss. It's all you, whether you win or lose. The only thing you have to beat is the mental downer. 

 When I discovered long distance running, I was more hooked on running. Sprinting, or anything below 1500m in high school was just too stressful for me. Too short of a time to slog through the pain, not enough time to torture yourself. Also, I like taking over a fellow competitor through mental strength. I remember every moment before overtaking someone - the person would dwindle to the right or left, or waver, a sign of tiredness in sustaining the same speed over a long while. Aaah, I would think to myself gleefully, mental fatigue. And just like that, it was like someone shot adrenaline to my legs. I would move in for the kill.

 I would think of my dad everytime. He would always become my target when we run together.

  I always like who I have become everytime I crossed the finish line, regardless of time. I felt like I could take in anything. And I bet this is why we all do this too.

 I tell myself this everytime I think about closing the book on my running. And I would feel the old itch to love it again, give it one more chance. One of these days I know I have to stop doing it, for the sake of my legs and my future capability. But it doesn't have to be today, or tomorrow just yet.

 "Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up.  It knows it must outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up.  It knows it must run faster than the slowest gazelle, or it will starve.  It doesn't matter whether you're a lion or gazelle - when the sun comes up, you'd better be running."

Everything But The Girl

I know I have not been dilligent in writing here, which is sort of ridiculous because I created this for the whole purpose of having a space to just vent, rant or purge about my workouts.

 

But I have been doing stuff, just like the rest of us runners, cyclists, ultra-marathoners, swimmers, yogis, sports lovin freak. Somehow, in between the time sapping 8 hours of work and what little time you have for workouts I have no time to actually settle and write and update.

 

Do any of you have a workout log? I mean, other than a blog, which is much more lengthy and personal. I do, and I am a sucker for workout logs. I remember I got a cool one for my 17th birthday when I was running for school and in the field hockey team. It had a large daily workout planner, weekly planner and finally monthly planner. I just love training schedules. I have no idea why training schedules are such a motivation for me. I could be stuck in a really boring meeting and having the time flying past me by just planning my training schedules. At my workdesk I have 12 printed sheet of the months in 2010, with large empty Day boxes so I could fill in my workouts. And then I have a workout folder (analogue, hard copy folder) on my desk where I put all my race registration forms, receipts and everything. Most of them were cutouts or ripped out pages from magazines or papers on anything about sports and fitness. Looking at them during my blah days gives me that surge or boost to work out. I mean, we all have those moments where we feel blah. All I need to do is to flip through my folder and get inspired. I wished I didn't lose this Workout Book I had when I was in high school. It was THICK and it had a picture of Gabby Reece (US Female Beach/Volleyball Super Athlete) pumping hard. Inside it were chockfuls of tips and quizzes and menus and workout plans and exercises and what have yous. I was really obsessed in high school. I woke up to repetitions and sets and went to bed with them. I think I did a lot more of resistance exercises than I do now.

 

The most interesting part is, I was not really a hardcore school athlete. I was only in my cross country team because a large part of the team were either from field hockey or football. Even so I usually opted out from competition. To be honest, I hated the stress of competition. For me it takes away the fun out of doing the sports. Some coaches take high school sports seriously, and I remember a couple of times where I had a hard time sleeping before a running event or a hockey tournament. I would be in jitters during the bus ride to an away game, won't talk to anyone while getting prepared, and only would loosen up after a game or a race was done. I was once chewed out by my coach for ten minutes for my 'funny mood'. I didn't realize that he was pissed and nothing he said got to me because even then I was just nervous and freaked out.  

 

I was definitely not a competitive athlete then.

And now... I have no idea.

 

Two nights ago I went on a cycling ride with a bunch of uncles. It was a hot night, humid like the heat trapped in a woman's skirt. My first time riding in the dark, I was estatic, nervous, and worried that I'd be dropped like a fly. I am too lazy to go into the details of what happened, but I was dropped going uphill, as usual, and my thighs burned and I was panting like a rabid dog. Everything that I expected to happen, happened. But it was a beautiful night ride, and I would like to remember everything about that night. It rained in the middle of it, big, fat, droplets that got into your eyes and made a wonderful tok tok tok sound on your helmet. We passed some dark back alley of a neighborhood with absolutely no source of lighting except the kaleisdoscope of our tail lights and illuminated wristbands. It was a scary setting and I wanted to be scared and waited to be spooked just for the fun of it but I was just cruising. We cycled in a unit, our huffing and puffing linking us, the whiz and burr of our wheels providing the soundtrack for the night. I remember looking up at the sky and seeing the moon so big and round and I was like... Oh my god, that's beautiful.

 

And then it came.

I miss running, I thought.

 

I miss everything there is about having that high. I have felt it when I swim, wonderful pacing with nothing but my heartbeat thumping in my ear. I finally felt it when I cycled, that feeling like you're flying on top of everyone and everything in slow motion. But I felt it the most in my running, not often, definitely not all the time, but there would be times when running just gives you that high. And I miss it.

I miss it like the desert miss the rain (chewaaaaahhh).

 

Day 4 since the Day of Clearance. I have no idea why I am not running yet. I am nervous it's really not funny. 

Written 2 years ago: August 10th 2007

The thing about running that I hate is that no matter how good you had it before, the moment you become careless with it and it bites you on your butt back. It is so easy to lose the momentum of running and so hard to get back to the stage you were. I haven’t been running for the whole duration of my trip and two days back, thanks to my wonderful host who herself loves to run, I went for a run. And this isn’t some ordinary run - we went for a run at Hyde Park, a place I’ve only heard about. I felt like I’m on some sort of a luxury cruise for runners.

In school, people always assume that I love running because I am so serious about it. The funny thing is, what I love about running is totally uncalled for; I actually DREAD going for a run, I just LOVE the feeling I get after a good run. My friends mistook the enthusiasm I show everytime I want to go for a run for my honest love of running, in actuality, I just can’t wait to get that runner’s high. I get seriously wistful when I see other joggers breathing hard, sweat making their presence known on their t-shirts.

Everytime before a run, as I am tying up my shoelaces, or when I am wearing my sports bra, or even when I am walking towards my destination, I feel seriously heavy. The trick about running that I have never fully mastered is the skill of distracting your mind away from the running itself. This isn’t like swimming where every single second is focused on the breathing, and feels awesome. When you run, you don’t want to think about running. You don’t want to think about how you want to stop, or about the increasing tightness in your chest, or the stitches you’re getting, or how your legs feels like spaghetti. I usually succeed in thinking about something else for a few seconds, and then come back again to the thoughts screaming inside my brains - STOP! STOP! STOP! The only thing that could prevent me from stopping is imagining that a rapist is chasing me and I am gaining speed away from that motherfucker. Or other strong runners, be it aging grandmas, athletic women, or seriously hot guys with to-die-for calves muscles.

Today I am going for a run again and honestly I can’t wait. Not for the heavy breathing, or the shallow breaths or the rubbery legs, but for the after effects that will make me walk around afterwards like a moony lovestruck lover, smiles on my face and the feeling that I can be whomever I want to be, like, Marge Simpson.

Running in Uni

I haven't been running for 5 days.

Most runners fear gaining weight when they stop running. I fear losing my stamina and endurance. Unlike most people, I don't really seem to 'enjoy' enjoy running - I only like the after effect of running, that feeling when you feel invincible and able to do anything. That was my pure motivation when I was in uni, lacing up my running shoes (a cheap Power bought in Giant with my scholarship money, no less) in the evenings while my friends either watched downloaded series or napped or watched boys playing football.

I used to run in the mornings as well too. I was an early morning runner when I was in high school. My dad and I and mom would go to the lake that I run now and we'd be doing a couple of rounds. Running in the morning is the best feeling. You just feel more energized plus the whole world is slowly waking up. There's nothing more beautiful for me.

In uni I would run straight after Subuh. I remember there was this senior dude who always run too. We would be running in opposite directions and I would secretly look at him because he was kinda cute. I think we were silent running partners for over a year. Then my subjects got really tough and I slept later than I would and would run in the evening. It's not so good because that means boys are around playing football and the really naughty ones would cat call you or just tease you while you run.

But all throughout I always have a love-hate relationship with my running. Somedays I dread it, some days I couldn't wait to do it. Sometimes I hate it even while doing it - this usually means that the whole run would be a mental one as I would be struggling to complete the distance - and the would be other times, very rare though, that my legs just feel loose and my knees don't hurt an my mind singing. I love it when that happens.

One thing I love and hate about myself when I run is that I never give up. If I've started to run 5km, for example, this means there will be no turning back. I could never go back to less than 5km unless I'm doing speed intervals or the likes. Sometimes I get tired even at 2km. The moment I get tired, I know it's not going to stop. It is then that I find myself thinking, "Let's just do 4km. I could stop this." But I would push myself hard to do 5km because I know the end result is highly rewarding. I've beaten the odds. I've actually challenged myself.

This is what I felt when I ran my first 10k. I haven't been running properly for a year until then. I took up other sports: since last year I've been doing kickboxing, swimming and badminton religiously every week. Then I found out that a friend I used to run with did the marathon and I got such a jealousy kick. I mean, I've ran with her. And look at her, doing a mara. I searched the internet and instantly registered myself to 3 running events that july. I was filled with the vigor of such an overwhelming level. I felt like I wanted to leap out of my office chair and run.

But I ran only twice that week. And it was only 3 km I think. Then I went to Thailand and bungeed jump. When I went back, I only ran twice for 4km. I was still gaspng for air.

Then I ran my first 10k.

The race was horrible, and my legs screamed after the first 10 minutes. Uphills were torturous, and I think my pace were as slow as a snail. I paced myself behind a lot of other women, sometimes overtaking them, most of the time being left behind. And, then, about 4km to the finish line or so, I couldn't quite explain it, my body just felt lighter. It was such a noticeable difference, like swimming into the colder parts or the sea, and I felt my legs sprung to life. I ran faster than I could imagine at a pace I usually reserve for the last 200m of my running.

I got the qualifying medal.
I spent the whole day riding the wave of my euphoria.

It's ramadhan, and it's a wonderful month to be in. I had such a fine Ramadhan last year that I'm all happy about celebrating it this year. If you put aside the fact that you can't eat/drink, this holy month has such an upbeat, warm feeling to it. I owe a lot of my positive outlook to the ramadhan month, specifically last ramadhan. My life wasn't too great the past few years becaue of some emotional problems I was going through but during ramadhan I decided to buck up and focus on what's important and even though it sounds cheesy, but I'll just write it anyway: there is a reason for everything, and God knows what He is doing and everything is already pre-ordained for you. There is nothing to be sad about.

Running today. Kinda looking forward to it. Actually, really looking forward to it. But we'll see how I feel at 4pm!