great week

i worked out everyday except for Monday. this on a heavy fever week. why do i only get and give good workouts to myself during uncalled for times? i run better - faster, longer - during ramadhan with all the dehydration. And this week, heavy with fever and stuffy nose and fatigue, I had awesome sessions.

Well, awesome sessions, but my body felt weak. Nevertheless, they recover fast.

Tuesday, I in-line skated. Watching youtube videos of the Longboard Girls with their sick skills spurned me on. I let my hair down, and pretended I'm one of them, blasting up and down the hills, feeling the quads, working. I imagined them quads looking cute, toned and firm and wasn't that a great motivation to push up harder.
What I learned: you can enjoy the exertion if you think about how this will benefit you in the long run.

Wednesday, strength. Didn't break too much of a sweat, but my heart pumped somewhat crazy. I loved this sessions and wished I had more time after work.
What I learned: it is up to you to push yourself. You can always add one more rep and then the next.

Thursday, finally my boyfriend decided to join me for a spin. And that dude wowed me as usual. My turf, my playground, and he whooped my ass climbing up the hills like the bike and him were one and the same. I loved the view of his calves when I was exerting myself along the ride. The night was balmy and humid, and it was the best because I was with the person who mattered most.
What I learned: The same route helps to gauge your fitness, and how each exercise changes according to the day weather, mental state, etc.

Friday, still feeling weak, but strength class still had to go on. This time, I wanted to focus on my upper body strength. And dear lovely instructor, she made us pant and sweat and our arms and upper back shake like a Polaroid picture. great stretching sessions afterwards.
What I learned: Focus and breathing are keys to your knowing your RPE.

Saturday, a dip in the pool. Woke up from a goood recovery sleep, and decided what the hell, let's just get yourself worked out for a while.
What I learned: You can lose yourself in the moment, and the next thing you know, you've exceeded your expectations.

balik kampung jumpa ibu, ayah, kucing!

great athletic weekend

Over a whole year of training I have never worked out what makes me perform or fail to.

you would think i would have figured out what would be good for me during a long distance workout, what i should do more off, and what i should do less of. the thing is, i would never know. there'll be days when i give such good performance only to do completely the opposite the next week at the same route.

what i do know though, is that i cannot have breakfast for any LSD. I've tried that one and everytime i ate breakfast my performance sucked. the only thing i could swallow would be cereal... but i rather not eat at all. i seem to push myself better without any food.

also, what i could do more of is enough sleep.i think that one is a no brainer.

saturday, i went to what i thought was going to be another poor performance since last week i was completely a vegetable completing the route. but instead it was the opposite. i was fast - i felt fast. i felt good, i pushed myself, i caught up, i was HUMMING.

so what have that workout taught me? that my performance relies completely in my state of mind. no amount of breakfast, sleep or anything else could contribute to this. if i feel good or i want to feel good, then i would have a good workout. if i felt shitty and thought i sucked, then i would give an equally sucky performance.

ego is my powerbar.

my knees hurt, but i am tired of caring. i thought of all the seasoned footballers in my boyfriend's team, all of them have bad knees and everything else and yet they did not give a damn.

speaking of football, after my workout rushed to see my boyfriend's league and it was an explosive show. his team finally put down one of their deadliest rival in an amazing 8-2 score and I was caught up with the excitement of it all. my boyfriend have an amazing endurance, playing 3 90minutes game in a large field (thankfully not back to back!) And to think my 4 hour morning cardio was taxing! Football will always be one of the toughest endurance game in my opinion, since my high school cross country training followed the football training regime and we were wiped out from the circuits. We finally ended our night with a hearty meal of chicken, fish and porridge and went to sleep for sundays morning cardio (me) and a football game (him).

sunday as usual was a good workout. im a BIG GIRL playing with the big boyssss!!! (too lazy to explain)

cardio lovers

I've been reading these 3 blogs obsessively for the past months, one of of them is married to another athlete and just gave birth to a baby. Her resentment and jealousy over her husband's availability to work out while she's stuck with a baby at her breast is both endearing and scary. Somehow, the situation makes me think of my boyfriend and I and how similar some of her blog posts are to us. Needless to say, we're not married and I definitely do not have a baby, but still.

Both of us play sports on a daily basis. My boyfriend does sport professionally and competitively and is a certified athlete whereas I only moonlight as one. Our perfect day is to wake up early in the morning, hike or cycle up the Shah Alam hills, eat a huge breakfast, and do another round of cardio in the evening, mostly some kickboxing or swimming. We are almost always in our flip flops and t-shirts, our hair wet from post-workout showers. Both of us have this deep tan from too many times of sun exposure. The last time we went for a typical 'Gen-Y' type of date: movie, mall, meal was eons ago. The last movie we went to was Alien Vs Monsters and it was free. Our workouts consumed us. Once, while running, we had an argument and in the midst of it my boyfriend even stopped to tell me to 'keep my breathing even.'

Between the both of us, I'm the more obsessive one when it comes to sports. I was not discovered to play sports; I discovered it. I have no one pushing me to train at a specific time, to give me a hard time when I miss a workout. The dedication to train and keep to a rigid schedule was mine all mine. Nobody is paying me money to work up a sweat day by day. I got no incentives, yet I still wake up most mornings to fit in at least an hour of something hard. My boyfriend on his off season, would definitely be happy to be a slug. On a couch with the TV remote in his hand.

Right now it's the Ramadhan month. My work now has totally taken over my life that I'm either too drained or too stiff to be starting any cardio. I travel about 2 times a week. The airport has become my good friend and I am collecting boarding passes like they're meal coupons. My boyfriend has eased off on his swimming out of loyalty to me (we do the 2 hour sessions together and he's NOT going to get to do pyramids when I don't!) but he still has his scheduled friendly matches 3 times a week. I'm exhausted most of the time from work and he bounds off from the after effect of a good track workout. It's not fair.

I do have a plan all lined up. I plan to run after work before Iftar just like last year, a simple 5k 2-3 times a week. At night, if my energy permits, I would spend some quality time with my karate since it'll be a good time to sharpen up some flexibility and strength. And I think that will be enough.

I feel like going out for a run RIGHT NOW.

Brisk Walk

I need to gain some weight.

 Everybody's making jokes about my weight now and it's getting worrying. They say that by the time I ran to the finishing line all that's left would be my hair and a stick. My sister read the paper today which states that for every kilometer you run you lose 1 kg and she's like no wonder you're so freaking skinny!

 This morning, boyfriend and I woke up early for a nice stroll/jog at the lake. He is far off worse than me: got a nice hairline fracture on his ankle and his fibula bone popped out of the socket. When we looked at his x-ray we all visibly cringed, even the doctor. He has been off work for 8 weeks now, with countless of physio sessions and ice (but his icing is done the professional way - sticking his ankle through the hole and the ice would be timed and adjusted accordingly - I was looking at the icing machine in awe). He was hoping to make it for the football selection end of May but it seems like the dream is dashed. We're a walking example of Misery Loves Company.

 I got a nice workout - brisk walking for about 5 loops. I forgot how taxing this seemingly docile exercise is, especially if you're an injured runner making a comeback. Those aunties really know what they are doing. I tried to follow their speed but lost steam after 3 rounds. How did they go so fast without running? It seemed impossible as I kept breaking into a stride every once in a while. It was much more easier to trot than to walk at a furious pace for a long time. Nevertheless I was sweating and pumped up while my boyfriend took it real slow with a 1 km walk. So kesian. He was also complaining about the lost of his muscle mass especially on his thighs (vain). I had to admit they looked especially slim comparing. I mean before that his quads were scary to look at and he couldn't fit in any of those trendy TopShop jeans guys our age wear kahkahkah. You know, the really slim ones rocker dudes wear?

 Anyway, my doctor said that I could start running again, albeit slowly but I'm SO nervous. I keep feeling twinges of pain when I do. And now I think I feel it all the time... even while sleeping. I think I'm going crazy. He says my knees look ok now, if you don't count the cartilage wear and tear. But as far as inflammation goes, I'm clear. He thinks I'm being paranoid and he likes that fact since it would make me run carefully. Oh well.

 Really need to go for a massage. And gain some weight. Does Appeton WeightGain work? I'm tired of all the nicknames, jokes and wearing belts for ALL my jeans. Damn.

 

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.

 

To Malakoff or not to Malakoff?

My dream is coming true for the second time!

Malakoff this weekend and I'm feeling both excited and nervous. Excited because I am so looking forward to run this race due to:

1) I like the course

2) It's hilly - I love hills... uphills that is.

3) It's 12km. After 2 back to back 21km, the mirror effect looks very appealing.

4) Not only would I be joined by MY DAD, but I would be joined by my boyfriend and my older cousin too! (abang sedara la senang) Plus another cousin of mine with her husband who's doing the 6km. I'm so happy to be running this race with family!

And I am nervous because:

1) it's hilly... which means I'd have a horrible time with my knees as is.

2) My knees are bad. It's majorly inflammed still... I guess I need to ice it all the time.

I wanted to skip this race after standard chartered because my knees were giving me horrible times, but I guess maybe I could squeeze in this final race before I stop completely for the next 4 months. I don't know... I figured maybe I should start resting now since it's not going to get better, but on the other hand, I'm not going to RUN at all until April... might as well run for the last time this year right?

Also, my dad has been training real hard for this race. I've said it before and I'll say it again, my dad is so cute. I bought him the Glucosamine supplement and every morning when I call him I'd ask him, "Have you eaten your supplement? Have you put ice on your knees and feet?" It's really fun playing trainer to someone. Although my dad and I have been running around the same time (we've been running together for 8 years - but I started out 2 years before), I'm the reader and he's the 'jaguh kampung' type - the one who probably will snort at the idea of LSD, speedwork or mid strike. "Ape susah susah?" I could imagine him say that. In fact, when I bought him his first proper pair of running shoes, he was tsk tsk-ing my fussiness; asking for his footprints, looking at his arches, etc. He was running in my youngest sister's old pair of Nike's before!

Anyway, I'm not looking forward to be sharing the whole 12km with my plantar fasciitis, but 12km is an ok distance and I've done it a couple of times and plus, if I could slog through 15km of pure plantar fasciitis misery who says I couldn't do 12km? Right??

Just this last time! see you guys there :)

Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon

My second half-marathon preparation was - from the start - messy with many unplanned details. I was late to book for the bus, I accidentally double booked the hostel, this and that. Since my bestfriend had accompanied me for the Great Eastern and my sister for the PBIM, my boyfriend decided to become my supporter. Friday night, he told me that we might have to change the time on our bus tickets since he had an important football selection on Sunday evening.

So early in the morning we were at first coach bandar utama asking if it was possible for us to change our tickets back from 5pm to 10am. they said no. Not wanting to give up, I called the singapore;s first coach whose response was, "sure!" But we decided to change the time to 1045am in case I did not manage to finish within 3 hours.

The ride to Singapore was uneventful. I watched one of my favorite movies, armageddon, and cried buckets much to my boyfriend's dismay. He later told me that the whole bus heard me sobbing. I could not help it, the touching father-daughter scenes at the end will always make me cry, no matter how macho I believe myself to be. and it's Bruce Willis!

When we arrived (at 3pm) we went straight to the expo to get my race kit. as I walked towards it I was surprised to see that the Penguin Book sale was just beside! It was all I could do to stop myself from entering. I am currently financially unstable ever since I signed the SNP of my first property ever (my first thought upon signing: rasa macam adult!) and adding to the fact that I (might) be going to L.A in January I am not even in the state to buy a pencil.

We checked in at our hostel, a comfy, laid-back building in the little india area. The 6 bed mixed dorms were the only ones available when I booked but only 4 people including us was in the room. As usual i opted for the bunk below hahaha.

Fast forward to the race day. No one in the hostel were participating in the race so we were the only ones who got out at about 550 am (I thought subuh was at 545) We walked to little india MRT but it was closed. I was taken aback and stunned. This was poor planning on my part as I had stupidly expected that it would be opened. We had only $4 with us and I left my atm card at home - we did not have enough for a taxi fare. and I have no map that could lead us to City hall. We alked blindly for a few minutes asking random sleepy people until we bumped into another malaysian runner Jeff, who was on the way to do his 10k. By that time (610 am), Bugis mrt was open.

Me and Jeff on the way to Bugis MRT.

At the starting line not only was I sweaty (from panicking and walking fast) but i realized that I am way unprepared. I was holding two water bottles: one filled with OSR and one just water. I did this with PBIM and had no problem running holding two bottles, in fact, my running was better because I had something to hold on to. But this time around I was also carrying my two ointments - a counterpain and some analgesic ointment prescribed by my doctor for my knees. I had wanted to buy an SPI belt but did not get the chance to the night before as we were lost in the city after having dinner. so in desperation I did the unthinkable - stuffed them in my sports bra with a quick prayer to god that they won't chafe me until I bleed to death.

I started the race ok, running at my usual relaxed 7mins/km pace. I sipped the OSR, looked at other runners, enjoyed the view.

And then my feet hurt.

And hurt.

Im sure all of you have experienced plantar fasciitis. Mine is highly serious due to bad recovery (or none at all!) and it hurt like you have no idea. Mostly I have problems with my arches and not the heel itself. Still, it's a bad bad bad bad thing to have when you need to use your feet to run another 16 km. And then, came the second bad thing: I started to worry about the race.

I hate it when it happens to me. The moment my mind goes, "Damn... this is tiring," the feeling will NEVER stop. It will not stop until I finish the race. The were races where I felt this: Siemens, Great Eastern 10k, and races where I felt wonderful: Mizuno, PBIM. This time, I felt the BIG BAD tiring feeling. And guess what? It continued all the way until the end. I tried tot hink about something else: my new shoes, ..... but nothing came to mind except, "When is this going to end this HURTS!!"

At 10km mark I felt mentally drained. My knees started to hurt so bad that I was forced to slow down and walk. I repeated this cycle - walk, run, walk - for a good 5 km. I started to feel insanely hungry. And because I've been bracing my whole body from the knee pain, i.e, trying not to put pressure on the left leg I've accidentally tightened up my entire body which resulted in cramps in my stomach even though I've been steadily drinking the OSR. I can't remember how many times I stopped to re-apply the counter pain to noth myknees and my arches. and I've never been so relieved to see the km markers on the way. One km was a horrible distance to cover when your feet's on fire!

At 15km I looked at my watch and it was 1 hour and 59 minutes. That means I could cover the remaining 6km in about 30 minutes or so, allowing me to finish it in 2hrs 30 mins (my target time, walaupun tak practice langsung boleh lagi nak berangan...) YEAH RIGHT. My feet were screaming bloody murder and I was forced to walk until I reached 18km - slow painful steps. By that time I've passed my 2hrs 50 minutes time from PBIM and I could not care less. I just wanted to finish it! My wristwatch came off and luckily someone tapped me on the shoulder and I had to reverse a couple of steps to retrieve it.

At the last 1km, knowing my boyfriend would be at the sideline waiting, I forced myself to run (hahaha ego gila!), thinking that I'll never hear the end of it if he saw me walking to the finish line. I guess it was adrenaline and knowing that my pain would soon be over, but i didn't even remember feeling the pain in both my feet and knees. I was busy trying to look like I'm some sort of a pro-runner carrying two water bottles, for the benefit of my boyfriend who had the camera. But I was soon humbled as I crossed the finish line with the time ticking above to

3:00:50 (official time, 2:58 was based on my wristwatch).

My favorite quotes (that I can remember):

1) Quitters never run, Runners NEVER quit.

2) I like men chasing me.

3) For Grandpa :) (I just think there is a story behind this. I always have a soft spot for male role models)

4) Breakfast after the run! YUM.

and my personal favorite:

"Nothing is Impossible. The Impossible JUST takes longer..." The lady wearing it was a slightly chubby girl with a determined look on her face, slowly running. It literally made me go Wow when I read it. It's true. Whatever you think is impossible - it just takes a little longer. you only have to go through with it, grit your teeth, and finish. Throughout the race, whenever I felt sucky about finishing with a bad time, I thought of that lady runner whom I left behind 10km back, who probably would finish late but I bet she would be super proud of herself. Because I am too. I hoped she had a really good race because her quote really helped me.

Anyway to top the crazy weekend, without having the time to shower, me and boyfriend hopped on our bus (1045am) so that he could catch his football selection at 530pm. I only managed to change my underwear at the immigration stop.

Yay Me!! Look at my running form - heel strike. No wonder I have all the injuries!

Spiderman runs too! I wonder how he could withstand the heat.

Lake at Ramadhan

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

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

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

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

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

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

 My left ankle hurt during this run. 

 I didn't run on thursday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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