Funny thing about life... ever see those amputtees playing basketball or swimming? Blind trying to run marathons and playing the piano.. they go against their fate, training and trying to beat the odds... ask them why they are doing this, and the reasons as varied as they may be, can be summarised to this: to prove something.
For me, to run is literally like getting the crippled to run... I hated running since I was a kid. Never understood why it hurt so much when I ran.. until mom and dad told me that I was flat footed. In the army, I realised that flat footed people will never become officers and will be resigned to be ''others's''. With that, I too resigned to my fate and never looked at running again.
Fast forward 20 years... with the birth of Gabriel and then Samantha a
nd now Nathalie, staying fit and trim is not an option. Running was maybe the only way (for now) to get fit, strong and trim. And thus in 2003, I started my odyssey in running... to grow a love affair with the one activity that will cause me many many nights of pain...
10 km race... that was what it was suppose to be... but when my foot pod started to measure something else different, and my body was starting to alert me as it slipped into the pain thresh-hold, I glanced around, for the distance marker... and to my dismay, either my foot pod was wrong, or my body was starting to become complacent...
There was suppose to be 50,000 runners for this Marathon event, and it sure felt as if ALL of them were running with me at the same time.. of course, the truth of it was that perhaps only 5-8000 of us were running the 10k.. and the rest were probably in the Marathon and the 1/2 M.. still it was castrophobic.. smells, odours, sounds.. it was very strange indeed... you whizz by huffing and puffing walking folks... and faster runners were cutting you from behind... I kept my pace, my watch the pace keeper... slowly but surely, left right left right... I looked around the tall buildings at the business district.. and wondered if I would ever get a chance to find employement again...
Up at the bridge, my heart was strong and so were my lungs and legs.. a quick check, and I was doing around 11.2km/h up the slope.. cool... all the training up mount faber was not in vain... coming down heading towards Temasek Boulevard, it was a mind shattering 15.5km/h... actually its was more like THIGH busting.. rather then mind shattering...
The marshalls at the side.. waving red flags, feebly cheered us on... "hang in there! Only 3 more Km to go!!" I glanced at my watch... strange, it registered that I have already cleared 9km... my thighs were burning... and the sweat that were absorb by my shirt was starting to weight a tonne... I could feel every step, as I pounded my feet to propell myself just alittle more closer to the finishing line.. but where the heck was the finishing line? And there I was ... at the F1 pitstops, the roll of Ferraris lined up at the right hand side.. probably lined there to mentally tuant us, to get us to go faster.... afterall aren't the Ferraris a portal of fast lanes and flashy status? Ahhh.. the MODENA... sexy.. red and beautiful... and the Maranello... I glanced again... 11.2km/h... it certainly worked abit.. then on my right, an old fren passed me by, his arm tattoo gave his identity away, I called out to him, exchanged pleasentries and then he was off, he's in the sales line, and I remembered that he would call me whenever he needed "lobangs", but when it came to parties he somehow forgets about me, how do I know about that? Thanks to cyber space! His wife blogs about the parties and I've been reading them.. well, no more invitations to him then! once passed the F1 pits.. it was down the Esplanade road... Pain, and the feeling of disheartenness ( is that a word? ) and my speed was down to 9.5km/h... and for the first time.. I walked.. it was getting hotter, and the sun was in my face.. there were many runners, some walking some running... but I didnt see them, it might just as well be that I was on the moon.. all by myself... the legs wanted to stop... the lungs wanted more air... I wondered how much more pain? alright.. 1 minute of walking.. speed was down to 5km/h.... and total distance covered was over the 12km mark.. at least.. the entrance fee that I paid was worth it! The one minute was up... and I must say.. that short rest was really good... I started to run again, not jog... 12km/h... and the cheering crowds helped abit...
As I made that turn, the last 195metres.. Adrenalin flowed into my system... it was as if I had on new legs, new lungs and 2 hearts?! I peered infront, and the word 'FÏNISH' had a new meaning to me, it meant that I could rest.. it meant that I could go home, it meant that it was over, time to bask in glory..
In that short distance of 195 metres, tears welled in my eyes, a quick glance, I was sprinting at 18km/h, the pain was gone.. and all I wanted was to FINISH this...emotionals went amok, I was proud, tired but happy... I thought, what an achievement, I waited 39 years to run a foot race, I remember the times when the PE teachers would snarled at me, because I was flat footed, because running hurts and I could never run long distances well.. I hated running... but here it is... 10km.. FINISHED...
One thing that I learnt about this whole run was that, in life we have to expect the unexpected, just like in this race, it was surely more than 10km. But at the finishing stretch, I also started to learn the value of finishing well.
Standing before me, is a whole new opportunity for me to finish well in my life.. and what lies behind are the experiences that I can draw to help me to finish this objective. Friends come and go, sometimes, you buy them lunch, sometimes, they might buy you lunch... but watever it is, keeping a sensible level of expectations of friends will also certainly get us to be happier folks. And of course, if you have a religion, being faithful certainly helps!
For me, to run is literally like getting the crippled to run... I hated running since I was a kid. Never understood why it hurt so much when I ran.. until mom and dad told me that I was flat footed. In the army, I realised that flat footed people will never become officers and will be resigned to be ''others's''. With that, I too resigned to my fate and never looked at running again.
Fast forward 20 years... with the birth of Gabriel and then Samantha a
nd now Nathalie, staying fit and trim is not an option. Running was maybe the only way (for now) to get fit, strong and trim. And thus in 2003, I started my odyssey in running... to grow a love affair with the one activity that will cause me many many nights of pain...10 km race... that was what it was suppose to be... but when my foot pod started to measure something else different, and my body was starting to alert me as it slipped into the pain thresh-hold, I glanced around, for the distance marker... and to my dismay, either my foot pod was wrong, or my body was starting to become complacent...
There was suppose to be 50,000 runners for this Marathon event, and it sure felt as if ALL of them were running with me at the same time.. of course, the truth of it was that perhaps only 5-8000 of us were running the 10k.. and the rest were probably in the Marathon and the 1/2 M.. still it was castrophobic.. smells, odours, sounds.. it was very strange indeed... you whizz by huffing and puffing walking folks... and faster runners were cutting you from behind... I kept my pace, my watch the pace keeper... slowly but surely, left right left right... I looked around the tall buildings at the business district.. and wondered if I would ever get a chance to find employement again...
Up at the bridge, my heart was strong and so were my lungs and legs.. a quick check, and I was doing around 11.2km/h up the slope.. cool... all the training up mount faber was not in vain... coming down heading towards Temasek Boulevard, it was a mind shattering 15.5km/h... actually its was more like THIGH busting.. rather then mind shattering...
The marshalls at the side.. waving red flags, feebly cheered us on... "hang in there! Only 3 more Km to go!!" I glanced at my watch... strange, it registered that I have already cleared 9km... my thighs were burning... and the sweat that were absorb by my shirt was starting to weight a tonne... I could feel every step, as I pounded my feet to propell myself just alittle more closer to the finishing line.. but where the heck was the finishing line? And there I was ... at the F1 pitstops, the roll of Ferraris lined up at the right hand side.. probably lined there to mentally tuant us, to get us to go faster.... afterall aren't the Ferraris a portal of fast lanes and flashy status? Ahhh.. the MODENA... sexy.. red and beautiful... and the Maranello... I glanced again... 11.2km/h... it certainly worked abit.. then on my right, an old fren passed me by, his arm tattoo gave his identity away, I called out to him, exchanged pleasentries and then he was off, he's in the sales line, and I remembered that he would call me whenever he needed "lobangs", but when it came to parties he somehow forgets about me, how do I know about that? Thanks to cyber space! His wife blogs about the parties and I've been reading them.. well, no more invitations to him then! once passed the F1 pits.. it was down the Esplanade road... Pain, and the feeling of disheartenness ( is that a word? ) and my speed was down to 9.5km/h... and for the first time.. I walked.. it was getting hotter, and the sun was in my face.. there were many runners, some walking some running... but I didnt see them, it might just as well be that I was on the moon.. all by myself... the legs wanted to stop... the lungs wanted more air... I wondered how much more pain? alright.. 1 minute of walking.. speed was down to 5km/h.... and total distance covered was over the 12km mark.. at least.. the entrance fee that I paid was worth it! The one minute was up... and I must say.. that short rest was really good... I started to run again, not jog... 12km/h... and the cheering crowds helped abit...
As I made that turn, the last 195metres.. Adrenalin flowed into my system... it was as if I had on new legs, new lungs and 2 hearts?! I peered infront, and the word 'FÏNISH' had a new meaning to me, it meant that I could rest.. it meant that I could go home, it meant that it was over, time to bask in glory..
In that short distance of 195 metres, tears welled in my eyes, a quick glance, I was sprinting at 18km/h, the pain was gone.. and all I wanted was to FINISH this...emotionals went amok, I was proud, tired but happy... I thought, what an achievement, I waited 39 years to run a foot race, I remember the times when the PE teachers would snarled at me, because I was flat footed, because running hurts and I could never run long distances well.. I hated running... but here it is... 10km.. FINISHED...
One thing that I learnt about this whole run was that, in life we have to expect the unexpected, just like in this race, it was surely more than 10km. But at the finishing stretch, I also started to learn the value of finishing well.
Standing before me, is a whole new opportunity for me to finish well in my life.. and what lies behind are the experiences that I can draw to help me to finish this objective. Friends come and go, sometimes, you buy them lunch, sometimes, they might buy you lunch... but watever it is, keeping a sensible level of expectations of friends will also certainly get us to be happier folks. And of course, if you have a religion, being faithful certainly helps!
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