Semangat Lari Balik... and I talk about yoga.

Actually, I have always been semangat.

 Actually, tak.

To be honest, ever since I discovered ashtanga yoga, I am lazy to do anything that involves me to go out of the house wearing clothes... erk, not that I practice naked. Cuma less baju to wash. Dengan tudung nyer lagi etc etc.

Why do I like ashtanga so much? Because it is a good replacement. It physically, mentally and emotionally challenges me just the same. The practice usually takes me about 90 minutes or 120 minutes to complete, depending, and it requires you to focus.

When I came to yoga it was because the doctors said, "Kau lari lagi kau kayuh lagi aku patahkan lutut hang!" (Badan lembik perasan baguih) Ntah2 dier tambah dalam hati. So I went. I came to yoga entirely for a physical practice.

Then somehow it changed. Ashtanga is hard. Period. It has about 5? series - one series have probably about 30 or so poses - and they keep getting harder. Most people will only do first series, maybe two. A few get to do third and beyond. I have been doing first - or primary - series for literally a year now.

The major difference about ashtanga and my 'tri' training is the spiritual aspect of it. Whereas multisport os a world where you need to kinda exude confidence, ashtanga needs you to be really humble. If your balance is off that day - check, did you unintentionally hurt someone? It's a grounding practice, one that goes with my faith.

But let's talk about the physical aspect. Here are a few of my favorite primary poses:

  
This is called bhujapidasana. The full pose requires you to lower your head slightly to the floor, and lifting back up. This develops your arm strength tremendously. My swimming has never felt better. One of my favorites.


Lolasana. I have not yet gained that strength in the hip flexors to lift my feet up.


Kukutasana - Christy Turlington, a dedicated yogi, nailing it. I love this one too.

Here are the poses in second series:


Pincha Mayurasana - I totally love this pose. Took me a while to develop that upper body strength to kick up. Can only do it supported, with my toes against a wall.

I could share more but here's one that I am currently practicing:


Eka Pada Koundiyasana - I could only get to balance for a split second before my arm strength failed me. Love the work I am putting for this, a third series pose.

Anyway, the stronger I get with my practice the more I yearn to start a regular running practice back. I do run, usually once a week, or twice on a good week, and cycle once a week, but it's not satisfying enough. Now that the first series is getting a tad easier, I feel like I want to incorporate running as a cross training... how funny is that? Would be good for my legs to develop some strength that could help me with some hard balancing poses!

 Onto my running practice... twice a week, first. Baby steps!

You Know You're Addicted When...

I'm now going through a grueling 6 day strength and endurance workshop... just because.

 I was reading a blog post titled, "You know you're a martial arts student when..." and it got me thinking. Here's mine:

 You Know You're a Workout Junkie When:

1) You own more stretchy pants than jeans.
2) You own different pairs of running shoes for LSD, race days, treadmills, lazy runs
3) You sleep in the running vests you get during registrations.
4) You have countless amount of workout bras, for different sports: longer length for cycling, more support for running, etc
4a) You have countless supplies of anything, in my case 3 yoga mats, 2 helmets, 2 gloves, 2 swimming suits, 2 goggles, etc... the list is endless. Consumer whore!
5) Your bathroom constantly have goggles, swim cap and swimming suits hanging to dry
6) Your car is a mobile sports store room with shoes, pairs of socks, bottled water, etc
7) You smell of muscle rubs most of the time.
8) You understand and can talk about V02 max, intervals, and pyramids with such excitement.
9) You mentally map out your run or cycle route whenever you're passing a pretty hilly road or beautiful landscape
10) Your vacation is a running event, or a yoga workshop
11) You don't hesitate.. EVER to plunk out more than RM200 for your beloved sports
12) Your kitchen is fully stocked with bananas and chocolate milk
13) You and your spouse go to massages, reflexology, and cupping more often than the movies.
14) You won't swim in a pool that is not 50m
15) You know what Nuu, Urdhva Dhanurasana, bento bag, pulling means
16) The word Drill gives you a Thrill
17) You actually know where your serratus anterior, rotator cuff and plantar fasciitis are. And what they mean.

I actually have a lot more but I am at work at I can't really get to excited. Of all the activities I listed, I've been missing the swim. Ever since I rented out my condo to a friend the pool benefit goes away too. That was the suckiest part for me. I love my condo's pool because it is 50m, has practically no one, and although not deep, nice enough for me to tread water and do whatever I wanted to do.

 My cycling is now only on Sundays, at the same route and area. I just like the hills. It's an easy workout, without wasting time and driving far. The last time I went, I honestly thought I would suffer, but I was actually pretty great even my riding buddy complimented on me. HE NEVER DOES THAT. Of course, it wasn't really a compliment, more like, "Well, at least you weren't huffing and puffing." hahah trust me, I take it as a compliment, because it surely means he didn't think I was a hopeless case.

I went running Saturday with a friend. We did hills (of course). Since she was just starting out and hates running I turned it inot some sort of a game: run uphill and brisk walk the rest. We had fun, especially at the top of the hills.

 My body is sooo sore! And I feel tired! I can't wait to run. What? did I just say that. Maybe I'm delusional.

Obsession

Last night was SS class. As always, 90 minutes felt like... 20 minutes. I am starting to get really obsessive with this, just like I was obsessed with every other sports I happen to try. When I first started swimming, I got so obsessed I literally had this software of a dude swimming in place in my laptop. You click on it and see him from top, side and front, to see the perfect quadrant and his alignment and stroke and what not. I watched probably millions of youtube videos on how to improve my body roll, bilateral breathing, etc etc.

When I got obsessed with cycling I read cycling biographies a lot. I wasn't as obsessed with the techniques of this sport like I was with swimming, but I would get excited looking at videos of cyclists doing their long distance rides. What appealed about cycling was what running once appealed to me - the suffering through the long distance. It wasn't about speed - I will never be fast - but it was more to how long I could hold on and the triumph I felt at the end. Cycling has trumped running to be my number one relaxing outdoor sport and will always remain.

I got obsessed with karate too. I was also obsessed with kickboxing. I was obsessed with in-line skating. All of them now has been reduced to sports I play when I have all the time in the world a.k.a annual leave. Nevertheless I love all of them for different, unique reasons.

One of the things I love about SS class is the rooting at the end of the class. After 90 minutes is over, we were asked to sit and reflect and let go of all arrogance that visited us when we were doing the poses. This was an amazing concept because I am highly competitive and always trying to be the best. This reminder forces me to focus only on myself and not other people. Sure enough the moment I felt chuffed about nailing some tough poses I lost my balance and falter, or fell altogether. The instructor always starts the class by asking us to find our intention. "If today your intention is to be more humble with this practice, with your strength and flexibility - then do so." I love it.

I have registered myself to a couple of running events! It's going to be crazy and I'm sure I couldn't sleep well. It's been more than a year since I last ran socially. It has been 8 months since I last rode in a group too. Sometimes I miss it; there's no pressure, always for the scenery and social banter, but the time sucking doesn't sit well with my 'new' life. I am equally happy to be riding in a group of two, enjoying conversations.

mental block

my biggest enemy thus far is my own mental block.

I only noticed it so much after taking up the strengthening class. In it, we are asked to do thousand of setups that require us to trust our bodies and self. Especially on the arm balancing part. So many times before a particular inversion pose - headstand, forearm stand, etc - I would literally say NO. Even when the instructor is holding me and guiding me I would whimper - no! - and then after much cajoling I got the guts to lift my legs up.

The same thing applies to my cycling. During one of those treacherous routine of doing hill repeats it would be so easy for me to say NO and stop. I had to bark at myself inside to man up and repeat this drill even if I puked.

I find it hard to have the discipline to challenge myself. And which is why, joining the strengthening and stretching class is the best decision I ever made. Everytime, I have to challenge myself to break my own record. It is myself against myself. I love this, slowly competing against my own worst enemy.

Didn't do much the weekend. Failed to go running while Dad sneakily went cycling (cheater!). Routine ensues again this week, insyaAllah.

Signed up

Despite what I said, signed me and my dad up for a couple of running events. Nothing fancy, something small. Dad's knees hurt, so I'm giving him the steel bike for him to ride so he rests his knees.

Yesterday night's strength session was so good. My arms were shaking, vibrating and crumbling under the pressure. I sweated buckets.

Wanted to run this morning but woke up too late. Will try to run after work today but with how the weather is these days... i don't think so.

Riding Coach taught me the basics of bike servicing and maintenance. Simple, easy stuff even 'you're that kind of cyclist' person like me could handle.

sunday ride

i took back what I wrote earlier. I DO NOT WANT to get better in cycling. Maybe just enough to keep my cardiovascular system happy.

Yesterday we decided to tackle steep hills. And he was forever trying to 'improve' me when all I wanted was to enjoy spinning and spinning and spinning. He asked me if I wanted to suffer or cheat. I chose for the former. This time around because I was away for a week the hills felt steep. I was slower, and I almost bent forward at the waist from the effort. I stopped for a bottle of livita. Then halfway through the loops, Vico. As usual he did not drink anything. I asked him if he was thirsty and he said - "I did not even break a sweat!" !!! I have stopped feeling embarrassed for myself.

I think I have started to transition from someone 'training' for a race to someone 'exercising' for health. No longer was I pushing myself to the limits, no longer was I challenging myself to break my own record. When he pushed me to cycle faster I got angry at him for forcing me out of this comfort zone. Instead of doing speed drills I loped the neighborhood, feeling relaxed and happy. I stopped doing 50m drills now and just enjoy doing endless relaxing laps, losing out to breaststroke swimmers.

I don't know whether I am happy with this. I like the regular routine of exercising but I wonder if I should mix it up with a bit of some race anxiety just to shake up my routine. But I am just too lazy to register nowadays and I hate the thought of waking up just to line up and gather and then run when I can do that by myself.

I did not sign up for PBIM this year. That is a loss to me, but couldn't find the time and friend to accompany me. Wondering what tiny run I should register into...

Saturday: normal 6k. Went running angry and the run did not even help. First time this happened.

Today's planned workout: pool time.

Passion!

Honestly, the best pair of shoes.

It's cheap, cracked and not pretty. But I've been using it forever.

Harris doesn't look too chuffed being the third wheel. Haha.

I remember the first time I bought this dude. I came in with a friend, who would later custom fit and build the rest of the bike. It was on a Tuesday, and nearly 8pm. My friend spent the whole night bringing him to life. Eddy was beautiful, and also expensive. It took me months to pay off his debts, and now he's mine all mine. Everybody loved the bike, just not as much as I do. We made some pretty sweet rides, and he was reliable, and strong, and well, faster than my first. We conquered some awesome hills, and he kept me company during solo moments - the best moments. Some people spent the rest of their lives not knowing who they are, and Eddy helped me reclaimed back my identity. First a runner, and now a cyclist. But I am not fast, neither am I competitive. My 'coach/riding buddy' does not agree; he hates recreational cyclist, always pushing me to get faster, better, stronger. I'll see what happens.

Cycling aside, I've been working out steadily. Been doing karate 3 times a week now, and the first week when I did it I couldn't walk properly for days. All the muscle groups in my legs made themselves known. It was PAINFUL. All the squats; monkey squats, crab squats, sumo squats, whatever squats, they kicked my butt. The training was as tough as yoga. I still hold to this fact: Nothing is as tough as yoga, NOTHING. When done correctly, yoga BURNS.

A week before my wedding, I did my last yoga class for the session. The teacher has turned brutal on me, and the poses harder, more mentally exhausting than ever. I almost cried a few times. Oh God, writing this makes me miss yoga. Soon.

My running has been steady. Nothing much to report there. I will still consider myself a good runner, although the heart is not 100% in there. I complain more when I'm running, couldn't wait for it to finish. Yet I still do the laps religiously. During the bi-weekly running tests, I could still muster some energy to sprint.

Ramadhan month is coming! I love working out during Ramadhan. Makes you sooo much stronger.

priorities

i guess there's only so many moments you can have before you have to redefine your focus.

People ask me if it was hard to let go. Before answering, I will always recall back the recent post I wrote about loving the cycling and what it does for me. To be honest, it was harder before the decision, not so after. I would look at all my friend's weekend's escapades with neither longing, envy nor regret. Sometimes I would confide in a friend about the immensity of what I am letting go of, and they would understand, knowing that before all of this, it was a huge part in my life. But we are meant to lose the people/things we love, because how else are we going to know how important they were to us?

exercise will always be a part of my life. but in a different way now.

I end this with one of my favorite quotes from Benjamin Button:

For what it’s worth, it’s never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit... start whenever you want... you can change or stay the same. There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that stop you. I hope you feel things that you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life that you’re proud of and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.

Passion

When people asked me what I do, I used to say, "I am a runner."

It took me a long time, but now when I am asked the same question, I replied with, "I am a cyclist."

Let me lay it down for you. I am not an exceptional athlete. I am known on this blog as an injured runner, running a 3 hour half marathons. I swim freestyle at a breaststroke pace. I am now just a rehabilitated weekend warrior, enjoying her time.

It is the same thing when I cycle. On average, my speed is 23-25km/h. I can't hardly sustain speeding on a flat course for more than 3 minutes. I am never the first one to arrive and never able to overtake another cyclist. After 1 year of cycling, I have improved little.

But nothing gives me the same rush.

When I love a particular sport, I love it because it makes me feel alive. It makes me feel good while doing it, after doing it, and probably a few days after doing it. I love how it organizes my life and kick starts my energy, and the burst of confidence it gives me. This ability to still do it, and do it and do it. I have loved running with all of my life. But I can't explain this love for cycling. The amazing views I get to see, the trees, the wind on my face, the people passing you by in a blur.

Most of all, I love how tough it is. I love the hot sun, the crazy headwinds, the unforgiving hills, the relentless rain. I love a ride that comes with particularly tough route or circumstances. The best rides I remembered were all rides I suffered like crazy.

This reminds me of an article I read about the original meaning of the word 'passion'. In Latin, passion is defined as to suffer, to endure, particularly in one thing that you love. If what I am doing, waking up at the wee hours in the morning, lack of sleep, dehydration, leg stiffness, hot sun, back ache, etc isn't passion, what is?

Which leads me to a favorite quote of mine:

"Anytime you add that structure to something, for me, it kills it. Think about the word 'amateur': It has its root in the Latin word 'amare', which means 'to love'--you do it for the love of the sport."
--Charles Carlson, Bicycling June 2008

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."

9 breaths

At work, I wrote to myself:

Today you will workout. You will try to do a one hour of cardio, but you can always settle on your 'at-least-it's-done' 30 minutes. Nothing shorter, because I know you are stronger than that.

Truth to be told, I was lazy. I was mostly tired from work, and I didn;t really sleep well, I am still recovering from a gastric attack, etc. But I needed to slot that one quick cardio in. I knew how good it feels at the end.

So I did not give time for myself to think. I just stopped work, drove, changed and got to move. And what do you know I loved it. I think I tortured myself quite badly. I felt like fainting. Then I got headaches. I was definitely hard on myself. What I like to do was to imagine that I have an upcoming tough race to participate and my coach was the same one I had for track in high school. He was brutal and he yelled at your ass to GET THE LEGS MOVING!

My workout dynamics have certainly changed now. I have no idea when, and how, but I do know why. I want to get faster and better. I want to be stronger. No longer do I take it slow and steady, training my already solid mental and physical endurance. I enjoy speedier, short bursts of anything now. I like finishing a workout with my heart burning.

I did not burn enough today. I kind of regret that now.

Ever since I read about pushing one's own limit, I am obsessed with the idea of testing myself. I never did that - test my limits. I never HAD to, or wanted to. I was happy doing my sports and coming in last for all it's worth. I didn't want to beat anybody; I just wanted a workout. The only time I found myself tested was during the sundown marathon and that was because I was underprepared. I survived pretty much anything because I know I couldn't stop.

But suddenly I find myself loving this pressure. Wanting the pressure, needing the push. I am not satisfied if I got home with energy left to do laundry, watch Tv, etc. I want to be hammered.

I have to miss out two of the upcoming events that I'd already PAID for thanks to work. But it's an overseas trip so I'm not really complaining, plus I know I would enjoy the FAT (that's factory acceptance test). I'd be bringing my fivefingers and I wish I can bring my other boyfriend but he's quite heavy and won't fold easily. Oh well.

I still have 2 and a half more days before I disappear for 11 days! Make them worth it!

Stirred

Starting over is my favorite part of this whole game.

The stacking workouts. The increase of distance, repetitions, intensity. The back to back routine.

The hurt to get there.

People ask me, "Are you a professional athlete? Are you doing sports competitively? Why the training to get better if you're not going to race/win?"

Because I want to. And in my world, I am the number one athlete, and that's enough.

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.

Only Happy When It Rains

It always rains when I want to run.

Or rather... I always want to run when it rains. HAHA.

I read an article about the differences between outdoor cats and indoor cats. One of the most prominent, the article said, is the lack of interest in chasing strings or shadows for outdoor cats. You put a string - or anything moving - in front of an indoor cat and he'll go berserk trying to grab it between his paws. This can go for hours. but you put the string in front of an outdoor cat and the most he'll give you is only a few minutes' worth of forced enthusiasm.

It's true. My cat, Cik Mek Molek, loses the interest in the string/penyapu lidi/shadows/marbles/ or any moving things you throw at her after just half a minute. She is the quintessential outdoor cat, an an esteemed hunter. There is nothing - short of a dog or anything bigger than her size - that she has not hunted or killed. Nor any tree limbs that she has not climbed and peed on.

If she was a true blue Outdoor Cat, then I am a true blue Outdoor Athlete. I guess what a string is to my cat is what a treadmill is to me. I have been dormant for so long that I thought of hitting the gym tonight and run on the treadmill, or heck, get on the stationary bike and cycle. But I. Could. Not.

Whenever I tried the gym thing, I always ended up running for 2k that feels like a marathon. I hopped on the bicycle and hoped it would give me better luck, but only ended up cycling for 15 minutes before I slipped off the bike from sleeping. I am always mystified: how can I run/cycle for hours outdoors but 15 minutes indoors is such torture?

I thought of my cat giving me a withering stare whenever I force her to play with the white yarn: I know how you feel now.

To my cat, that white, flimsy yarn does not even come close to the feel of a warm, flurry helpless bird trapped between her paws. All the drama and preparation of an outdoor hunt was lost when presented in the form of a string; the time she spent patiently stalking, the sweet tremors before a chase, the slow, slow stealth towards the poor bird victim. It is the same thing I feel in an indoor gym - trapped in a cold room breathing the stench of others and feeling nothing but metal underneath.

All this writing does not change the fact that it still rains outside.

Jaded City People

Last week, there was a wonderful boy in the train. He was friendly, proper, polite and interesting. He started conversations with strangers next to him, who reacted as if he’s either a) crazy, b) horny, or c) trying to steal. I made the mistake of staring at him too hard, which he took as a reprimand. He stopped talking afterwards, when all I was doing was trying to figure out which part of him came out so right when the rest of us have turned into one of those jaded city people. I actually missed him even until today. He asked the auntie next to him, “Did your son’s team win?” when she told him she was on the way back from her son’s football match. Everybody didn’t know what to do with this boy with headphones asking questions. We all were thinking, “What’s his motive?”

We don’t really need a motive to be friendly. I was jealous he was a human being in the train, not some dead logs.

[The only cardio I do these days is rushing to grab the nearest empty table for Iftar outing. That and maybe some thumb flexing on the remote between commercial breaks. WHY AM I ENJOYING THIS?]

Dream

I dreamt about running just this morning. And it feels amazing. Dreamt that I put my shoes on, and went for a run around my neighborhood, and I picked up my pace faster, and the roads just became a blur, and I remember somewhere there's a red car. I could only see the view of my feet against the road though, but the red car was at the corner of my eyes. Is it calling me already? I do run better during Ramadhan, for unknown reasons. Maybe I sort of relate running to suffering, with all the dehydration and heat.

I miss working out. But I do enjoy all the time out.

Off Season

I can't bring myself to do anything. The best thing is to just allow it to happen.

Been trying to force myself into some sort of a routine - 4/week of cardio - but for some reason it's not working. Unlike last year's Ramadhan, this year I was fully happy to cooperate with my bed and books back home and cuddle. It's not the food or lifestyle, in fact this year I've only spent 3 nights breaking fast with my friends with the rest of the days by myself at home. I would like to think that it's because of my job. It takes a lot out of me in a good way that there's nothing I want to do back home but to lie down and chill out.

I remember when we were kids and during school holidays would go to my cousin's house deep in the Felda settlement. At nights we played Scrabble and all sorts of board games and I remember asking my dad to play as well and he refused, saying that he doesn't want to 'think' at all when he's on vacation. I didn't understand it then but now I know what he means. Even coughing out words for Scrabble is hard work when you're loaded in the office. Especially when we share the same profession. I'm so happy to be a brainless loner during Ramadhan.

I do, though, get pangs of missing the workouts. Like driving through familiar routes and seeing the hills, I get a rush of something I couldn't quite describe, and I knew I totally miss the feel of lactic acid in my thighs and the near explosion of my heart. But I know this rest is for the best, a lot of athletes do this and I know I would come back recharged and energized. I could only push myself to do odd runs during the weekday and it depends on how good I feel on that day. I can't complain too much because as much as I miss feeling the early morning wind on my face I do enjoy the lush moments of waking up super late and sleeping till I don't know when. Although I try not to be affected when I pick my boyfriend up after his 4/week training and games...

Hope you guys enjoy your workouts and all the best!

Lion city

Somehow I was slow to realize the changes.

I am in Singapore right now, for work. I've been here for a few days, totally wiping out my chances of having my usual cardio. Instead I hang out in the hotel gym and pool, trying to make sense into running in one place facing yourself in the mirror and breathing in cold air. I could never see the romance in that, nor have I ever tried to. But at least I sweat some, and and least I get to go to bed satisfied. I once read a book about a guy who runs everyday, and because of that, he HAS to fit in some running daily. Even in the ungodly hour of 1 a.m in the morning, after a very all out drunken barbeque thrown by a hot new girl in town (the novel was a murder-mystery, which the dedicated runner ran into the corpse of the said girl...whatever). Anyway, like that guy, I have become someone who has to fit in something active. I packed my sports stuff first before anything else (which is the reason WHY I forgot to bring my blazer but not my running pants... figures).

My work has consumed almost 80% of my life. 5 months ago, this kind of statement would have made me balk and gag. I hate people who are married to their careers. To me, work is nothing but one slice from the pie we call life. I would never want to climb the corporate ladder, and be like my ex-boss, who was to busy to pick up her little girl's phonecall in a meeting and then her daughter died one the same day (hit by a car on the way back from school). What could she be thinking on the drive back from the hospital, after identifying her daughter? I told myself that I would never let work get in the way of my family.

But lately, I'm struggling with time management. I'm totally happy with my work. I love it so much that even after tough Sundays doing endurance sports that break you physically and mentally I still drag myself to work and lost track of time (and lunch!) doing the papers. The only thing I'm sacrificing right now are after work workouts. I get so tired that I want nothing more than to be on my bed reading a good book or hang out with my sister and friends. Forget karate on weekdays, or rollerblading Tuesdays and Mondays. I'm too lazy to even cheer on my boyfriend for his football games.

Ramadhan is coming near. I love Ramadhan. It reminds me of the time when I went running after work, and to be honest I PB in almost all the runs I did during the fasting month than any other days. I still plan to run and do sports in ramadhan just like normal, because it's just a tiny thing when you think about it. I might cut down the night workouts though.

I don't call myself a runner now when I address myself to other weekend warriors. My passion has changed to something else equally satisfying and testing, and I am having one fireball of fun with it. But the amazing thing is that running still comes easily to me like an old flame. There will be days where I'll pick up pace and think to myself, "Wow, this feels so awesome. I actually miss this... or it misses ME." I guess running is like my ex-lover. There's always something about your first love, they say.

Revisiting.

I always think of you most when I am on top of the hill, over the crest, and plunging downhill with the speed of 50km/h. The flapping of the winds in my ears and the blurriness of everything in front of me makes my mind peacefully empty, and for no apparent reason this always make me think of you. I miss you terribly the most when I am at my happiest moment, on my own. It’s not important for me to tell you the details of all the happiest moments in my life, but suffice that if I died on that highway crashed against the divider, you would be the last thing on my mind.

Change As We Know It

Today I realized something about myself: I'm always in a neverending quest. A quest of finding that one thing that would 'change my life forever'.

I admit it started when I was in home from the university break. Was watching television with my mom on this Everest expedition and she was like, "I would love to do this... if only I was younger." That last line woke me up - there I was with my mom who looked pretty resigned folding up clothes, and I was young. I had all the time in the world for to do something big! But then studying took over and I forgot about all the things I told myself I would do/try.

Then my 6 year relationship ended. I grew up with this person, our families were almost like families themselves, so being all on my own again was quite tough. I remember crying my heart out on my bed one night and then jumped with a start, took out a pen and paper, and did a list of, 'The Things I Would Like To Do This Year.' I became obsessed with the concept of time, continously asking myself, "It's day 56 into 2006 - what have you done that you could be proud of? What have changed for the better?" The idea of doing something crazy appealed to me so much. I WANT to have my life changed by an experience. I want to become a different person because the current me was heartbroken and pathetic.

And so I started. Some things were big (scuba diving license), some things were small (learning how to master chopsticks), but none were insignificant. Each achievement meant that I was one step away from the girl he knew, and one step closer to the 'new' me I wanted to be. I was heartbroken enough to do the scuba diving license alone, with only 2 men for company. I think I didn't talk much for the 3 days. I came back raving about the species I saw... but I was still the same person.

The cycle continues - I went on a one week turtle conservation program only to suffer from diarrhea. I spent 2 semesters volunteering at PAWS where I would commiserate my lonely life with all the unwanted kittens and cats (side note: please spay/neuter your pets!). I taught art to a bunch of 3 year olds only to realize kids are not really cute after 5 minutes of being with them.

Then it was the major backpacking trip across West Europe I planned with my housemate. Reading other people's description of their trips, where almost 90% of them claimed that their lives have 'forever changed', I banked my hopes up so high on this one. I was fresh out of university, stressed to the seams from a very trying final year project/thesis/finals and I just warmed my traveling legs with a 14 day backpacking trip across Central Java. I couldn't wait.

We went. We got lost so many times, starved for most days, slept at train stations/bus stations/beside the toilets, harrassed by rowdy Irish roomates, argued (with each other) in Paris, bullied by the German punks. I had my running shoes and went running whenever I could. I waited for the change to take over. I wondered if I was going to wake up not remembering anything at all, like an amnesiac.

54 days later, I trudged up the stairs to my room, feeling very much the same like the girl that bounded down the stairs with her new 50L backpack on. I still have moodswings. Sadly, I realized, I am pretty much me, the same girl, no matter where I am in the world.

Then I took up sports. Seriously.

Which brings me to today. I was browsing through some websites and I glanced across a blog post title that said, "The race that changed my life forever". I stopped, and realized she was talking about mountain biking. Not interested.

But whatever it is, that made me think. I would always be the girl that would be attracted to screaming headlines of people claiming THIS or THAT changed their life forever. I think this is why endurance sports appeal to me so much - it is always different, everyday, all the time.

I always thought that when you become a new person the change would be like a total relevation - an epiphany - instant and obvious. I never considered that you change slowly but surely, sometimes without realizing it. I have always been someone who gives up easily. I rather stop than fail. My life previously would be a lot of DNSs and DNFs. But I remember finishing the longest ride ever totally blown away by my ability. And that dark times at km 36 completing that goddamned marathon. I don't give up things so easily now.

So in a way, I have changed. And will look forward to change more, for the better. Sports have given me this amazing space to try and explore sides of me I didn't think I had. I learned to reign in, let go, learned to push, learned to socialize better (I always have problems with this!). I eat better too... (teringat kat Magnum almond...dah la puasa).

Have a Good weekend!!