Hamster wheels

Turn round, round and around

Same, same.

I have been meaning for years to post something here. But days, weeks, months just pass these days. So let’s write something today.

I went for my first full round island ride on Saturday. Done!

I was afraid to take my turn at the front, for fear that I couldn’t make it through the ride. But I did – heck it if I die. Along this uphill stretch at Kranji, I was supposed to go out in front. I tried but couldn’t, so one of the other guys went ahead for me while I drafted behind. I thought I was done working, but after 20km I got sick of the cowardly hiding. So I went out front again where I could. And then along the Seletar stretch the guys sprinted, I thought I couldn’t but tried all the same; I managed to keep up with the second pack. Along coastal the guys went again, I tried to go for the stars and went with the first group. I got dropped and spent, I couldn’t keep up with the second group as well. But I am happy I tried.

Somewhere throughout all that, I thought of my dearest gong gong. I remember him bringing us out to the track to cycle when we were young, frowning and scolding me because I couldn’t keep the bicycle straight and always swayed. I still can’t ride straight at times, especially when tired. But how I wish he was here to watch me fly. Its been a good two years since he has been gone, but the regret and reminiscence hasn’t gone. From time to time, I try to remember how hard he breathed his last breaths to push myself on. But I probably don’t remember enough. I am racing at Port Dickson this Saturday, and my dear man, this one is for you once again.

I am sitting here in my office now, looking forward to tomorrow morning’s ride but not so the night that is going to be spent here in the office. It has been a bad stretch at work but it will get better if we make it better. At the end of the day I am here by choice.

Good night world (:


the winds of change are blowing wild and free.

I usually run at midnight when sad; something must be keeping me awake. Still and stuffy as tonight was, I came alive with the occasional breeze, perhaps appreciating it more than I would if the day and I were both brighter.

Days have not been good; I fall short every day. In the midst of having and trying to be better/smarter/quicker/more compassionate, I tire and am disheartened. In the midst of falling short of  life’s demands, life falls short in the eyes of my fragile soul.

I used to have a formula I found easy and effective – know what you want, figure what you need to do, and do it. Of late, I’m stumped at the first. And where I can distill some objectives, I may not be sure what needs to be done, and whether they are within my abilities. And yet, every moment something needs doing. Sometimes you end up drifting along.

Yet maybe, in the midst of this new reality, may I find strength and goodness that I never had. And in the meantime, may I find repose in the last few hours of the “night”.

Misery, Work, Philosophy. And Hope.


I am amazed by their resilience.

Wander Wonder

Wandering around facebook a few hours ago amidst my little office’s cream-coloured four walls, I came across the profile of a lady and the pictures of her kids, dogs and ponies, and then her. There was a house in a big patch of land. A run-down lorry. A lot of grass. You wonder what life has in store and what is possible.

In this life we cannot always do great things. But we can do small things with great love. -Mother Teresa

Weeks have been busy – almost bad;

Likewise I go, almost mad;

Perhaps they help me find something I never had.

For many reasons, including non at all.

“For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” – Vincent van Gogh

The Singapore Biathlon 2012 date is out and it has me all excited and jittery. Sing Bi is the one race that has my heart.

Taiwan Yi-lan Asian Triathlon Championships – Stumbly, finished dead last when the sun had set and no one else except one was around; but still, happy to be racing.

My first vertical marathon and race with Mr T! ♥

Next up is the marathon in, shit, one and a half weeks time. My first, decided upon in a fateful moment. Reason? I hope that by exploring the unprecedented distance, I find new strength (both physical and non) and perspectives.

On another note, a mistake of this this pre-season was taking part in too many “junk” races “for fun” because it disrupts training. But it was also a humbling and good one (mistake, so to speak) in re-shaping my biases and complacency. Long distance running is no longer just running easily for very long and then boasting about it, and a vertical marathon isn’t just a few flights of steps.

thinking, feeling caps.

This is my favourite article on ST today. It is sweet of the kiddies and it strikes a chord with me especially since I have seen the kiddies and Gary working hard at the pool, seen some of the swimmers on their not so good days and seen Gary scold, abuse (with hard work), disabuse (them of certain notions), encourage and coddle them.

The online version is captioned “May the G force be with them”. Hurhur. Go kiddies, go G (:

We are all waging our own personal wars, with the aim of achieving the inner peace that comes from crossing that hallowed finish line.

We should learn from the best. And so after a crash that hurt her hip, Chrissie Wellington said, “a bit of padding would have been nice – should have eaten more donuts”.

I love that. But yes, there is more.

“And of course we are also engaged in our own personal war of attrition. Battling the enemy of self doubt, of discomfort, of the little voice telling us to quit, and of the dreaded adversary that is ‘ GI’ (distress) Jane. Although we all suffer disillusionment or motivational slumps, victors have developed a call to arms that can fuel their fire and reignite their passion and courage.”

“We are all waging our own personal wars on the triathlon battleground, with the aim of achieving the inner peace that comes from crossing that hallowed finish line. ”

What I fear the most is attrition of the most subtle kind. The loss of that spark, tenacity, that prevented pain and life from deterring you, that made you do things no one ever said you could (and the unkind ones said you couldn’t). Small battles lost daily, and a dream gets lost. You find others equally precious), but that one is lost. Since I dreamed, I want to hold on to it tight.

And last quote reverberated as it spoke – above others, I want to achieve inner peace at my own finishing line.

With this, hello world. I am still very much alive.

(Excerpts from http://www.chrissiewellington.org/blog/war-wounds-the-fighting-spirit/)

Be real, be true.

Dying through the 8 x 300 in the pool,

Caught a glimpse of the crimson -dark turning to light- sky with every breath and pull;

How beautiful.

To stop; not quite such a fool.