Malaysia's Little Dubai Dream along Putrajaya Boulevard

Fasting month is the month when the evils are locked up, so evidently the damnest battle we would have to overcome is the demon is us, or rather I will have to fight the demon in me.

Having LSDs with growing numbers strewn across Ramadhan is not pretty. I am not intimidated by the mileages, really. Night runs are not that bad to begin with, and during this holy month, ending a LSD with a sahur, and go very deep into sleep is heavenly. All the quiet arguments and collecting thoughts while slapping my trusted 1224 on the tarmac, are indeed mind boggling. So when I returned to a warm meal, and cold Milo... sleep is the next best thing.

Last night was the first night LSD this fasting month. I started at 10p.m. sharp, after looking around at no familiar faces, heading out to PICC. I thought since I'd be running alone, doing 2  PoJ - PICC laps would suffice before continuing from PoJ - PMO loop. Still, the scents in the air spooks me.

On my 2nd loop towards PICC, Ijam came out of the car in front of me. Apparently, he had been on a lookout when arriving late at site. I sighed relief at his sight, as I was running blind. No pace buddies, no conversations, no human contacts. The occassional drivers giving me 'you are insane!' looks, that I was interfering their privacy in their cars, alone with boyfriend/girlfriend doing whatever, did not help.

We started running together towards PMO later, with Ijam's illustrious friends - Roslan and Joe. Roslan is a beginner who did a strong 10k last night, and Joe is a surviving sole from series of killer diseases from bad lifestyle.

Joe ran with his music heard, with Celine Dion, Kitaro, etc. The music putting you to sleep - we had them last night before he retired to multiple blisters, running in Crocs. I know next time when I need some extra tunes, I'll keep Joe in mind :).

We split on my 21st km, and I ran solo for the remaining 7k with the guys fixing the Malaysian flags onto the streetlights between Menara PjH and the mosque. The lovebirds were long gone by now, and I picked up speed to finish fast.

One thing I must remember is the sensation to quit at that exact moment, but saying no bluntly to my face, and keep going. I was glad I did.

It was well after 2a.m. when I got home, showered and had my early sahur. The chicken pasta, protein shakes, cold Milo, few cracks of chocolate and a rerun of Kylie Kwong on AFC. I did not when I crawled from the sofa onto my bed. But I vividly remember cursing at myself for not stopping at McDonalds to grab a Sundae.

One fight won, 3 to go.