Gym blues

I've been lax in my running regime post Raya festivities, morever, with overwhelming workload at the office, I've just not had the time to make time for my usual runs.

Had to take a steroid jab recently due to acute tendonitis. Couldn't move my wrist without excruciating pains shooting through my arms. Because of the steroid I retained water and bloated up like a 2 week old dead beached whale (minus stench).

Last week I decided enough was enough so I started my runs again and for payback put in triple extra effort to get back in the game. Minimum of 5km per run 3 times a week. That gave the body a shocker but my trainer friend says "the body has a memory chip, it remembers", so it was not that tough nor painful as the muscles (and fats) start vibrating again.

Got out of my comfort zone and went to the nearest gym (to the office) to workout, which makes absolute sense, since I don't have to get stuck in traffic to go to the other branch (other side of town) that I'm familiar with. Read somewhere (a book about dating haha - I hate those "self-help" books) that if you don't meet anyone "interesting" at the usual place you frequent, "they" must be at the other places that you try to avoid.

Was killing 2 birds with one stone on this one. So far no joy but that's not my main objective anyways. (Where ARE these people for crying out loud?? Sheesh).

I did meet this trainer at the gym who came up to me while I was strecthing (no, this is not a love story) to do a survey on the gym. Sidetrack - I didn't know I'm entitled to use the BMI machine to check my fat mass, muscle mass and all the other mess I have. He offered me to try kick boxing - one sesh burns 700 calories.

Took up the offer. I mean get real.. 5km of running is just under 250 calories. One packet of M&Ms is 230 calories (which I had recently - nor is this a story about self-control).

And oh wow, bow chicka wow wow. I loved it. It's such an adrenaline pumping work out and is such an effective stress reliever. Never have I punched anything with so much vigour, with boxing gloves for that matter too. I was worried though about my non-existent coordination control. (You go left, I go left, you go left, I go right, you go left, I've left the work out studio). But the trainer was patient and went slow and I did quite well if I may so myself. But with all trainers, this was just a teaser of course. If you want to pursue, you have to sign up with a program that has a price tag of an initial car down payment.

I nearly took the bait (no self-control, remember?) but his boss (who did the sales pitch) had to be arrogant and say "This is a good investment and you'll thank me for this".

I don't know why these people think they are god's gift to society. I understand they are doing their job but there are a million and one ways to tackle a sale. I was annoyed and retorted "Shouldn't YOU be thanking me?" He didn't want to let up and came back with "We want to help you".

Yes, THAT certainly helped. Do I look like I have issues? (I do, but eff you). I was really really ticked off with his arrogance by then and wasn't going to let his defensive tone take the best of me so I said "Oh I thought you want to help with my money". I stood up, thanked him politely (see, manners son, manners), excused myself and ran furiously on the treadmill.

Remembered seeing a millions buntings on Muay Thai near the house. There's a centre close by! Going to check that out.

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I don't want another insurance policy!

I have been requested to post an entry on my experience trying to dodge a tele-marketing call by a fonen. It was quite funny but I can't remember the exact turn of events. The only thing I remembered was I got cornered and if I don't give my credit card details shim was going to ciktot me.

I will share salient points of the conversation.

"hello, ni cik nadia (bukan nama sebenar)ke?"

"saya"

--shim takes a deep long breath to read a 3 page script so fast I don't have any chance to interrupt in between--

"saya nadia juga, kelas kita nyah nama sama, cantik nama you, yelah mesti cantik ikut orang dia jugak kan, macam kita jugak *giggle manja-manja*, nadia call ni nak bagi tahu cik nadia tentang pelan insurans terbaru dari ING yang ---long script insurance jargon, rubbish, 36 critical illness, will pay in addition to any active life insurance coverage that one has bla bla.. basically yang terbaekk ----"

"tapi i dah ada insurance coverage dah and i also have the 36 critical illness, hopitalisation and all that crap"

"isshhh cik nadia ni tak dengar ke apa nadia cakap tadi? kan nadia dah kata dah yang ni will pay in addition to the one that you currently have, you tak rugi kalau you beli ni sebab ni ada cash advance and no other insurance coverage will pay in advance"

"berapa banyak insurance lah i nak kena beli ni"

"cik nadia, cik nadia tak sayang ke kat diri sendiri, ni ada cash advance taww, hospital bills kan mahal sekarang ni, take it as ni extra cash, cik nadia boleh claim from your other policy and at the same time, extra cash ni boleh lah pergi guna untuk shopping ke, travelling ke untuk cari mat susly kat overseas, kalau nadia, nadia kosser dengan jejanz melayu taww, cik nadia suka tak mat susly?"

"skerr"

"haa, lagilah cik nadia kena beli insurance ni, mana nak carikkk extra cash yang oii. nadia sker lah borak ngan cik nadia ni, office you kat ne?"

"kat (x marks the spot)"

"eh yekerr, kira kita ni jiran lah kan? ee boleh jumpa for lunch nanti, yelah kalau cik nadia sudi"

"eh, mak ok jer tapi kan, boleh tak i nak tengok insurance policy tu dulu kat website you so i boleh buat decision nak beli ke tak (excuses, no intention at all. takut say no sebenarnya)"

"laaa, penat nadia explain panjang2 tadi, cik nadia tak faham kerr?"

"faham tapi benda cam ni nak lah kena pikir masak2 dulu"

"ok la ok la, cik nadia pikir dulu and esok same time nadia call balik ok??"

The next day shim called and I signed up because I didn't know how to say no. My plan is when I receive the policy, I have a 14 days grace period to cancel. I just got the policy yesterday so it's time to do the necessary. Much easier to sort things out this way. Sans drama.

I hope you have more balls to say no to a fonen tele-marketeer than I ever will. I just can't do it. Fail gila.

allonlinecoupons.com

You give me that loving feeling

Had a nice relaxing facial the weekend before raya.

Setting of the mood was perfect, the breathing automatically slows down while you lie on the bed lined with electric blanket, scent of something calming in the air, dark and quiet ambience, soothing music in the background.

Chloe my dermatologist, before she starts applying anything, she will introduce it to me..'I'm applying the cleanser', 'Now, toner', 'This is soothing eye gel'.

While I appreciate it, it kind of gets in the way of my sleep. I'm about to crossover, I come back, crossover, come back. See flickering light, FBI interrogation spot light turned on max.

Nearly took off soothing eye pad from my closed eyes, looked into her eyes and said 'Look man, I don't care what the hell you do to me .. but can you bloody shut up?' *puts back soothing eye pad and prays to god she doesn't choke me after this*

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Delayed Luggage Update

Just realised I left to update this. MAS compensated every cent of additional charges I incurred after I hounded them day and night for it. It is sad though that had I left it just like that, so would they.

All these stellar services they promise are purely lip-service. They don't give a shit really unless you gave them shit, really.

Sad sad world we live in.

Negombo Beach Incident

A random memory just popped in my head. A funny one.

I had gone travelling to Sri Lanka with an old friend back from school. We were close back when we were teens. After school we kept in touch, not as often but we never lost contact. Drifted a little over the years but it was funny that we ended working for the same organisation. I'd bump into S maybe 3 times a year - as we had different offices.

One day, from out of the blue, S called to ask me if I'd be interested to go to Colombo with her. I wasn't sure where Colombo was - was that the country with drug cartel problems? Didn't want to look stupid so I asked a safe question "Wouldn't that be expensive?" (thinking it's South America) (it's Colombia btw). She said "It's dirt cheap, I don't travel expensive". Binggg. Key word "cheap". "I'm in!"

We made plans about 8 months prior. I was quite nervous having to travel just the two of us since all our friends couldn't join nor commit to the trip. 5 days with one single person is usually the acid test of a friendship. You either make it or break it (the neck). Didn't help our mutual best friend, L, whom both of us had travelled on different occassions with (they had a fight when they travelled but I somehow survived 2 weeks with L) was telling me horror tales about S.

L warned me that S only likes shopping. L knows I like sightseeing. So all these tales added on to my worries.

S and I met up once to plan our routes so I can make the hotel bookings. We were going to travel to 4 places and would check into 4 different hotels. This was a good sign - we both like to plan ahead and more importantly she left it to me to lay out the plans. I told her I like to do sightseeings and she told me she did too. I must've looked away or something cos she looked at me squarely and asked if L had said something to me about her. I let out a nervous laughter. "That bitch! It's not true that I only like to shop ok, I sightsee too". Yea, we'll see.

S was good company throughout the trip. The holiday was a success. She doesn't do what we girls love to do during trips - have some heart to heart talk about some drama we are going through in our lives. She's just the curt - no nonsense - let's just enjoy the moment kind of person. (When I holidayed with L, we had heart to heart talks every night - so this was new).

I almost wanted to ask S - Oi, don't you have any drama? I'm a good listener. Talk to me. Well, she had none of that. Actually neither did I during that time. We slept at 9pm everynight which worked fine with me since that was my bed time too. We were travelling so much on the road during the day that by after dinner we were too plastered to even watch tv.

This is the funny thing that I wanted to share. (Boy, digress much?).

We stayed at a beach hotel on the last night. After catching the sunset, we decided to have some good old Sri Lankan crabs for dinner. S told me the resto is over on our right side. We can either take the beach and walk through the throngs of locals who were crowding the public beach (trust me it was crowded - Tamil techno songs blasting on the boom box, locals partying hard on a Sunday night) or we can take the road outside of the hotel, no crowds.

I forgot about this - Sri Lankans - they are a bunch of madly in love people. At every corner, you'd spot a couple dating. Be it at the beach, the lakes, the parks - everywhere. Everywhere. I mean everywhere. I counted there were 20 couples in the park alone. It's almost like playing spot the hidden Mickey.

Anyway, I don't know why but I chose to walk through the beach.

As we entered the crowd, people were looking at us. It's like how Malaysians are overly friendly to Caucasians. Sri Lankans are amazed with us. They think we're Japanese btw. When we say we are Malaysians, they'll say they know someone from there.

We laced through the crowded beach, mingled in, the noise enveloping us. I had walked a couple of steps ahead of S. A bit nervous cos people were staring at us(cos we're Japanese). There were dogs without leash everywhere. Unsure if they were strays or owned.

Suddenly amid the noise I thought I heard S calling for me from behind, didn't turn around immediately. Then I heard her calling me again in a more strained pitch. I was about to turn around when I heard my name being screamed in the longest and highest pitch anyone has ever shouted my name with. I could swear every 23 million of the locals there on the beach stopped partying and looked at S and then shift to me.

A dog was jumping infront and around S and was on its hind legs wanting to play.

S had her hands around her face/ears covering face/ears and still screaming my name.

When she didn't stop screaming and had probably hit the highest octave that only dogs can hear (like those silent dog whistles you blow into and out of nowhere there'll be 3 dogs running to you) - the poor dog just dropped on the ground and played dead (or maybe it died, not sure).

I thought I heard a pin drop. People were looking. I thought to myself "Now, if I were to run off and pretend I don't know S..that should be less embarassing. But she has the room key.."

I stuck my chest out. Held my head high and strutted to S. Felt my ears went lava hot. Went to her, plucked her hand off her ears/face and tugged her to walk ahead with me. I hissed through my teeth "The dog just wanted to play, should have just ignored it and walked on"

She was on the brink of tears and hissed back at me "Why didn't you turn around when I called for you the first time?? I had to call you 3 times!! The dog could have mauled me"

By now, we were out of the sight of the onlookers. I stood infront of S, put my hands on my hips and cocked my head to one side to analyse what just happened. She really did look like she was going to cry. And all I could do was break down into fits of hysterical laughter. I laughed so hard until I couldn't breathe. S went high pitch again and said it's not funny!

The dog dropped on the ground, rolled over and had all 4 legs in the air. Can you picture that? I coudn't stop laughing the whole night, even until today I still get into a laughing frenzy when I recall that moment. S said she's glad I enjoyed looking at her facing death (she said this nonchalantly while mauling a Sri Lankan crab during dinner later that night).

S turned out to be a good sport, good company and such an easygoing travel companion. Sri Lanka proves to be one of the best holidays I've experienced. It's always in the company.

Run Amazon Run

I should conclude my running story already.

So there I was on the treadmill plodding my fat arse day after day, week after week, months after months trying to cross the 5 minute timeline. I was up against myself. It felt good coming to the gym all pumped trying to up my last run. I even bought a sportsband that could clock my KMs so I could have a running journal on a website. (No, I can't be un-tech savvy to record it the old skool way with a quill and a parchment). Besides, this device tells me how much calorie I have burnt and the speed I was running so I can cancel out the roti canai and nasi lemak I had last week. (This was the start of my obsession with calorie counts).

Do you know a roti canai has 300 calories content? It takes me half an hour of running to burn that whole thing off. And that doesn't include the lemak berkrim milo ice that comes with it. I disgust myself that way so I will be able to push that plate of mouth watering brownies aside when my self-control betrays me. It works.

As the days passed by I learnt to be in tune with my body. I listened to it and made mental notes in my head. It works when I do this way. It crashes when I do that way. My breathing regulated and there were less side stitches and on a good day cramps were unheard of. I solved the puzzle.

I ran my first km. Then it was 2km, then 3, then 4 and voila! 5km. Having achieved that 5km benchmark, what I did next was to better my timing. First it was 10 hours. Then it slowly became 36 minutes. My best timing to date.

My cousin, a good running mate, told me "Don't worry, your body is a brilliant machine, it will be able to withstand more pain than you can imagine". Oh yeah? Well, here goes nothing.

I beat myself to death every week. Sometimes after a run I'd ask myself (while applying koyok all over my body making into a giant mentholated shroud) "What the hell am I doing to myself? No one is putting a gun against my head and forcing me to run. Who am I kidding? Is this how people slowly turn crazy?".

I'd have conversations with myself (this is how people turn crazy) - you couldn't even run last time but now you can do a 5km run like you were born to do this. Isn't that amazing? Who would've thought that could happen? Doesn't it feel good?

HELL YEAH!

So I signed up for the Standard Chartered KL Half Marathon(21km)Run 2011.

Oh there were still doubts along the 4 months leading to the run. Many, many, many doubts. "Seriously? Wake up at 6am to run at Lake Gardens on a freaking Sunday morning? Are you kidding me??" "We are doing this every freaking Sunday for 4 bloody months? You're shitting me" "YOU *pokes mirror* are a joke".

But that was what I did. I was determined to run my first half marathon and complete it within the time limit so I can get a measly finisher's medal, a certificate and a nice picture of me at the finishing line.

For what? For that satisfaction and self-fulfillment. For being able to prove to myself that if you put your heart and soul to it not forgetting the blood, sweat and tears, you ... YOU... yes me... YOU will be able to do any fucking thing you thought only other people can do.

I have to share my final moments during the marathon.

The final 2km was excruciatingly difficult. My toes were chaffing against the insides of my shoes, I was confident my toe nails would drop off one by one (killing themselves) when I take off my shoes. I felt exhausted, spent and I was up against time. The qualifying time for a medal and cert was 3h30m. My stopwatch showed I was at 3h10m. I did a simple arithmetic in my head - my normal 1km time is 8 mins. But my pace was in the gutters because I was panicking and my breathing was all over the place making me gasp for more oxygen and hello! lethargy was setting in. So if I want to finishing before 3h30m at what pace should I be doing?

Nothing came. It was just a big flat screen in my head with the sound of white noise. How will I face myself if I don't get that medal? All those a year and a half of punishing my knees and lower back until some days I can't even walk, down the drain just like that? Can I live with just a pat on the back and a "good job you!"?

No. This is not the way I will tell my story.

I don't know if my bionic ability (I knew I had when I was little but never came about all these years) suddenly decided to surface. But I heard the sound the 6 million dollar man makes when he dashes to save someone in slow motion, ringing in my head. I picked up my pace and was sprinting with all my might towards the finishing line. I was gritting my teeth and grunting like a charging mad bull at the imaginary flapping red cloth. It must have been an adrenaline rush. My ears were hot, I know my legs were cramping, my heart was pounding against my chest but I kept on running and running and running if my life depended on it. (It did).

When I crossed that finishing line, a wave of emotions enveloped me. I wanted to beat my chest and stand at the edge of a big ship (that would later bump into an iceberg) and scream till my lungs hurt "I AM THE FUCKING KING OF THE WORLDDDD". I wanted to sprawl on the asphalt and then curl into a foetal position and cry sobbing until I had no more tears left.

I completed my first half marathon at age 38 in 3 hours 27 minutes. 3 minutes short of seeing the Finisher's Medal fly by mouthing the word loo-hoo-hoooo-serr as it passes by my face. (Yea I love beating myself up like that, just cos).

And now I am able to walk freely on this earth with a beaming smile on my face because I have achieved a dream that I thought was just a dream. Praise Allah the Almighty. Ameen. (I shouldn't have cussed ishhh).

:)

Run, maggot.

I started my running very slowly. So slow it was actually just brisk walking. But nothing was ever good enough for my PT. He would circle around my treadmill like a vulture eyeing a wounded gazelle. Or worse, he would park himself right beside me and furiously prod the speed button unsure which was not working, the speed button or me.

We started off with a one minute run. He told me running is all about controlling my breathing. Inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth. Slow controlled breaths. All I was concentrating on was the time. 20 seconds. 30 seconds. This is how I'm going to die. 40 seconds. Right now. 50 seconds. I'm dead, I'm sure I'm dead already. 60 seconds. TIME! And he'd decrease the speed to brisk walk.

I'd run for 1 minute and walk for 3 minutes. Run for 2 minutes, walk for 3 minutes. Run for 3 minutes and die a thousand deaths. You catch the drift. This went on for a couple of months. The objective was to incorporate the breathing into my regime. Make us one. There were at least 40 of us at that time in present.

Right now you would think I hate the treadmill, the PT, the smell of stale sweat permeating from every pore of the gym floor (walls were mirrors - I can't control my breathing but my brain was still 20% functioning so I know sweat cannot permeate from mirrors), the stinky towels, the people who were running all around me without clutching their chests, who could still have a chit chat with the runner next to them talking about how wonderful the smell of roses coming from their gardens when they woke up that morning.

But no. Something in me started to spark. If I can do 1 minute, what's 2, if I can do 2, I'm sure I can do 3. If I push a little more, 5 is definitely in the books. It was tough love. I struggled at 5 minutes forever. But that 5 minutes was like a lifetime achievement. It's never happened before.

There were the stitches I had to deal with. It was so painful I might as well just stab a fork in my kidney and show my PT "Is this what you want? Just take it, I have 2". "Oh it's not the kidney? Here, take my liver too, I'll get my sister to donate a third of hers". Every single organ in my body felt like it was trapped in a cocktail shaker. But the PT opened my eyes. You breathe, you avoid stitches. You avoid stitches, you rule the world.

I was far from conquering the world but I was interested to find out what it would take to do it. I was stepping into new territories, a strange place I never knew existed. I envy those runners on the treadmills. But I found the key to their secret place. It was simply breathing with a technique. That was all to it. If they can do it, why can't I.

Running sucks

I can never run. Is what I tell myself from as far back as I can remember. And that would be for every year when Sports Day is nigh, when all students start going for their qualifying try-outs. I hated all those try-outs only because I am very competitive and can never be any good at any of the events. 100meters, 4x100 meters, long jump, high jump and every other event that can ever bruise a child's ego, especially a child who at 11 got her first quasi part-time job as a librarian in the school library. This child loved books not race neck to neck on the school field with some hyperactive jumping bean.

But I wasn't all nerd sticking my nose behind a book throughout those years, I did find my niche in sports, I am a natural at racquet games. And once upon a time I was on the bowling team (only because the Pink Ladies and T-Birds made it uber cool).

The ordeals continued in secondary school. In addition to the same qualifying try-outs, there were the annual compulsory cross country runs I had to endure for 5 years. I'd run and get stitches throughout. I knew running for more than 5 straight minutes is something only a non-human can do and I made up my mind on that ..for good.

Fast forward circa 2006.

I (re)joined the gym across the office and got conned into signing up with a personal trainer who for obvious reasons was the more serious party in this 'relationship' - he has a KPI which I have paid for.

He told me to run on the treadmill, my whole childhood flashed before my eyes, I told him no, anything but running. My pleas undeniably fell on deaf ears. He started up the treadmill on speed 6.3. I ran.. for 30 seconds.. before I slammed the emergency button so hard we both got the shocker.

I remembered the look on his face when I spoke to him between pants while clutching my chest "AIH ...TOHLD ...YOUH ...AIH..CANNOTH...RHUN!" His jaws stayed open for a couple of minutes. When his soul entered back into his body he said "You're right.. but that's ok. We will train and after this you will be able to run. I promise you"

I had devised many a plans to quit the gym after that day. Cos I can't just quit the PT. I'd still bump into him when I do non-running stuffs in the gym. Hassle.

In the end I chose the easier way out of this - I gave in and face up to the one thing I hated in my life. I was going to run.

Sorry it has to (re)start with a grouse

I've missed this..being able to express my thoughts in more than 140 characters. Please know that I don't like it as much as you do when I have to spam everyone's timeline because I had 382,379 characters to type in order to form a coherent storyline to let everyone know MAS delayed my luggage for 3 days on my 5 day business trip to Singers last week.

As you can probably tell, I'm still not over it. Because they haven't had the decency to send me a proper apology (for inconveniencing me) in a form of Ringgits. Am I just another unlucky passenger that got screwed, experienced some tough love, oh well, life goes on, babe?

You don't mess with me like that and get to skip, skip, skip to my Lou, my darlin'.

I had to scramble after work on the 1st day, all knackered and oily (forgot blotter), to the nearest shopping mall to purchase my bare essentials - toiletries, work clothes AND undergarments. I wasn't sure if I needed 1, 3 or 5 days of clothes because MAS couldn't tell me when they would be able to locate my luggage. Super!

To cut the story short, after much shouting (in total: 2 days) to the Lost and Found personnel in Changi Airport, they finally located my luggage (it went to Surabaya!) and sent it to my hotel on the 3rd day. They told me I will be compensated RM75. *DISBELIEF*. Another round of shouting, I recall I told him my toiletries alone cost more than that but he couldn't wait to end the conversation and told me I will need to write to MAS if I had spent more than that, have a nice day, *click*.

Never got the RM75.

So I'm still enraged. It's not much about the money that I'm hitting the roof for but more of whatever the hell happened to the simple bleeding courtesy to acknowledge my 3 days of being out of sorts trying to get my life sorted. Is this what they call Malaysian Hospitality? Fuckers.

Tomorrow I will draft my complaint letter. Suddenly I feel beat. I think it's cos it's been a while since I wrote longer than 140 characters.

Today..

..oh my god I still remember my ID and password.