I never got round that one. I wonder
if InnerGold Counseling Services can
help me in overcoming that addiction as how it helps me in coping with my
sexual addiction. It is a secret that I’m ashamed of pouring out, actually
(it’s been more than a year since I ceased acting
out).
In any case, I want to cut today’s
post short as I have yet to pack for my two-day holiday tomorrow. Thus before I
leave, I want to jot down in the softcopy, i.e. blog, and so as to strike out
any pending tasks in my mind. It will be a fresh air with every burden lifted
off my shoulders.
Okay! It was the race day that I
would like to share, the race that I participated for the very first time in my
life –the 10KM run!
“Yeah, yeah, most of us have been
through that, Iz,” so I heard the voice among the crowd, “10KM is common, Iz.”
Well, I know that well. So relax, people! It’s my first time. So just celebrate
with me for this achievement.
That’s what I was awarded upon the
completion of the race –a New Balance
shirt and a medal. Everyone who partaken in the 10KM, 21KM or other runs of
that even had something given to them –or so I thought.
So how did it go?
I woke up nearly five o’clock in the
morning, feeling dreary and worrisome due to insufficient of sleep. I was
unable to sleep the night before even as I tossed my head to the left and
right. Then, my nephews came and overnighted in my room. Though I was able to
sleep for only a good hour or two, I was woken up and since then unable to rest
in peace till I picked up my MP4 player and listened to a relaxing music while
meditating as how I was taught by a hypnotherapist.
The morning dawned as I snacked on
some cereals for energy and then headed of for the shuttle bus in the
neighbouring town of my home.
It was torturing fun (okay
–I’d say torturously fun) enduring the whole race, lifting my legs non-stop,
feeling my body –probably because of the weight of the fats in me– pulled
towards the earth as I carried myself throughout. There were signboards every
kilometre we ran to indicate how far we had run up to then. Honestly, the first
two or three kilometres seemed easy.
The siren was issued and we all ran,
overtaking each other in an indescribable euphoric enthusiasm even as we came
upon a trail of sand and avoiding the puddles all we could. I saw some walked
instead of jogging or running. I couldn’t really blame them. I had my own race
and moreover, their bodies were not probably in a good state on that day. God knows
better and thus, I prefer silence to judging. And the pack of runners finally
came to a long stretch of road, which nearly bored me.
Prior to the race, I was among those
who queued at the cubicles to relieve myself. It wouldn’t really feel good
running with a bag of alkaline water in my bladder. And it was –and is still– natural for my body to demand
for more relief even after letting all the water streamed out. Why was my
bladder storing loads of water when it could have released them all at one short
instead of doing it in interval timings? Anyway, I spoke of that because as we
jogged along the road, some runners probably couldn’t hold themselves any
longer that they went to the bushes and relieved themselves. No comment. I knew
it was bad to hold. Yet I never wanted to let the body “pattern movement”
–synching with the energy and my stamina and my brain signals or whatever into
sort of pattern– to break its flow. I had always endured all that. It was just
a funny sight to trespass these runners. Once again, I couldn’t blame them.
And here came a daunting moment;
running on sand! The moment we turned at the end of the road, we entered the
beach and ran on the shore. It wasn’t a smooth run, for our feet sank into the
sloping sand every step we took. No doubt it would be bad for our ankles should
this be practised everyday, running on an inclined ground. We weren’t running
down or against a slope; think of it as walking around the centre of the hill
and not climbing up –just walk around. I tried running at the edge of the shore
with the sea crawling up the shores that one of my shoes got wet.
So it lasted for one and a half good
kilometre with which I felt a great relief when we stepped upon the solid road
once more, not before enduring another long stretch of road. No matter how
tired I was, I told myself never to stop. I allowed myself to slow down, yet no
matter what I would continue running. People overtook me and that was not my
concern. What was important for me was going through this race. I knew if I
stopped or walked all the way or even only for a distance, I would go home
feeling regretful about not putting in the effort. It was not like I wasn’t
feeling well or my heart had a sharp pain. It was only my body and the
continuous rhythmic breaths I panted. After all even despite crashing on
unhealthy food in between my training duration, I had a couple of times jogged
from my home to the nearest reservoir for a good four to five kilometres and
then going around the reservoir for another 4.3 kilometres, accumulating up to
around eight or nine kilometres in one short. I had endured those uneven
grounds of stones and sands. I had gone through all those trainings all by
myself. I had completed 7KM of the run at that point of time as I was mentally
tested, tempted to give up. Yet again I had gone through a nearly four-fifth of
the race and thus the last fifth shouldn’t be any of a problem. It was merely a
test of endurance. I had endured for more than a year of reminding my steed that there is always something
better than succumbing to sexual gratification, though the only thing I never
got around was food. The point here is that; I had been through a same thing
over and over again and that should have boosted my mental endurance –the never-give-up spirit. Well, I know it
was only a good 10KM run which most of us had gone through countless of times.
Yet –hey! That was my first time running officially, though I knew I could
still run and train the same distance elsewhere without participating in the
race. However I wanted so much to feel the exhilaration of victory. Moreover,
it didn’t seem quite bad running with crowds who were going the same way as
where you were heading.
And at last –here came the last 1KM!
I was tempted to run. Despite so, I knew I would lose out easily and became a
walking stick before the finishing line. I had trained running six laps of a
running track in the stadium nearby my home, accumulating to 2.4KM, a standard
length of a run that we had to pass within certain timing for our IPPT. With
that knowledge and experience, I knew 1KM was still a distance to go. So I
gauged myself and…
BURST!
I ran as I sensed the finishing line
drew closer. Everybody else around me did. Unfortunately I was wrong. My body
couldn’t keep up endure for long with the increase of speed. NO matter what,
the back of my mind reminded me never to stop even if I had to slow down. So
that was the fortunate part. I caught a sight of my former colleagues –the
regular officers from the base I spent for more than a year during my National
Service. I halted ahead of them so that they could see me. Actually, I caught
their attention by calling out for them and then I paused, jogging on the spot
as to allow them to take a shot of me on their camera before I sped off for the
finishing line.
And thank God within a matter of
time, I completed my first 10KM run! I looked up at the digital clock above me
and I thought I had run for one hour and a half. Later I confirmed it again by
checking the Nike+ app that I
activated to record the timing and distance of my run prior the start of the
race and learnt that I actually ran for 1hour 10minutes and a couple of seconds
that I probably thought it was pointless to disclose it unless with a friend
who got near the same timing as I had.
So here it went!
My official breakfast with two of my
former squad mates Ilham and Kiat Hwee and another guy who was in the same team
as they were back then in TRANSCOM. All of us were from TRANSCOM aka Public
Transport Security Command.
My prizes worth for my effort, the
shirt has become a part of my PT attire collection.
And lastly but not the least, the
medal, front and back view.
So it was worth waking up in the
morning at five with only a couple of hours of sleep and headed for the race.
“RUNNING IS 90% MENTAL, 100% REAL.”
“1% comes from me. 99% comes from
you.” –Mr Ow Kok Meng, my Secondary School’s Discipline Master
Now I can go for my trip. :)
May God watch over us for safety today, tomorrow and always.
Yours Sincerely
'Iz
