tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34418144240617189412024-03-12T22:37:51.045-07:0025 Years (NOT) Too LateAct like a horse. Be dumb. Just run.
#10thyearrunning
iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.comBlogger408125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-6115622255519468142015-12-18T05:14:00.003-08:002015-12-19T03:18:49.754-08:00Vietnam Mountain Marathon 2015<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know that some of you are anxious planning for 2016 Running
Calendar, fanning AirAsia zero-fare windows, and dodging family commitments
etc. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I know this seems like a delayed entry, but judging from my blogging literacy and speed these days, this is considerably fast.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And some weeks ago, Asger Koppen announced the VMM 2016 registration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, if that is not sadist enough, Asger Koppen adds a
lipsmacking 100K category. Just when I had enough of the remote DaNang beauty,
he launched an attack with an additional 30K stretch deep into Vietnam
(apparently starts with a 30K loop before joining the classic 70K route, so I
heard).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The yuppies talk about Urban Poverty… runners should talk about that
as well. With US Dollar appreciating beyond reach, overseas races with
primarily USD objective are becoming more elite and exclusive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But if you want honest opinion, yes – YOU should try to race this
once (if not every year). Whatever Asger describes about untouched beautiful trail,
remote communities etc etc and etc are true, believe you me. But then again, I
must say being disconnected from my old kampong-life, I am easily influenced,
and it is not that hard to convince me to go back to that certain memories of
freedom and escape the shitty city life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back when we
used to have Genting Trailblazer back in 2008-2009, some runners were raving
about a ‘Dirty Weekend’ as a welcomed alternative to the monotonous road
poundings in the rise of the Age of Malaysian Marathons. I blogged about it,
and looking back at those posts I realized it was not much different between
the (still very awesome and) memorable Genting Trailblazer, and this Vietnam
Mountain Marathon.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Both takes
place in higher-ish altitude, started with a road section (strategic crowd
dispersal) and dirty, burly and slippery trails. At the end of it, we spent
hours on end to clean ourselves up, and the reward – squeaky clean skin and
mindless makan-thon. Now we are spoilt for choices with Viper Challenges,
Spartan races and many other new obstacle-running courses. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I know
in the previous posts I have been quite graphic to amplify my lack of weekly
mileage these past 2 years (make that 3!), but I went into Vietnam Mountain
Marathon 2015 anyway, fully convinced I was at my fittest since 2013 (I was).
And I see this struggle to ‘welkambek’ would eat me up the entire year after I
lost few trusted running pacers. But as part of my mid-life crisis Part 1
edition, I came back from Mount Rinjani Ultra optimistic that it was far better
run than 2014, hence my confidence level is understandably well-inflated despite
the screeching DNF in TMBT 2015.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK OK – back to the race report…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The tag line reads “Vietnam Mountain Marathon 2015 – On Trails
Beaten by Buffaloes”. I can attest that it should have been changed to “Vietnam
Mountain Marathon 2015 – On Trails Beaten by Salomon”. But similar to the
copious amount of Salomon shoes popularly adorned by many strong runners, the
buffaloes are aplenty. One thing I remembered growing up in the village and
surrounded by buffaloes are fresh manure! And throughout the entire race – you
cannot get enough of it. It’s practically an <i>au-naturale</i> spa!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Introduction<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I came out from Hanoi Airport to a blistering welcome, and took a
cheap bus ride from the airport into the heart of Saigon, which requires good
45-minutes of power-walk to SumVilla Restaurant, Hanoi, where we rendezvoused with
the race team for registration. From there, the event chartered bus took us
through a long 6-hour ride to Sapa which is equivalent to a KL – Kota Bharu
midnight ride back home. By the time we reached Sapa at 20:00 hours, I was beat
but still have to endure an additional hour ride to Topas Lodge, some 18km
away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course it is best to reach Sapa a day earlier to rest (the
package includes village tour, yoga classes, etc), but if I could affirms to
busy, under-paid fathers travelling around for selected races then this would
suffice for now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIoP96ld_J-niDm1mWUBcFyd_zhf3GLwcy-B16y9pG0toUgTIJDJF6Se42z-6gbYwxPvMaAOUcoWFAqVSDcL1v2KDcGXgoaDyNvE-Lvbt9bGKM8FE7GbKyyg5jpr6VEryHiSlqFB_YC_5/s1600/IMG_3639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIoP96ld_J-niDm1mWUBcFyd_zhf3GLwcy-B16y9pG0toUgTIJDJF6Se42z-6gbYwxPvMaAOUcoWFAqVSDcL1v2KDcGXgoaDyNvE-Lvbt9bGKM8FE7GbKyyg5jpr6VEryHiSlqFB_YC_5/s640/IMG_3639.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizzqvu66pe9-tOktRkPwyfNWwrxluYRF96near-oNYHVutBYdO7ZNtskqR9tydcJGYbIyu-k9swgMa_dizP2DungM7da5MOf28p_Kh9Af2C3nZ2kvi1vHywqcxi_LXp32goFYg7YGEYvll/s1600/IMG_3644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizzqvu66pe9-tOktRkPwyfNWwrxluYRF96near-oNYHVutBYdO7ZNtskqR9tydcJGYbIyu-k9swgMa_dizP2DungM7da5MOf28p_Kh9Af2C3nZ2kvi1vHywqcxi_LXp32goFYg7YGEYvll/s640/IMG_3644.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpnikj9-8D8MXIf2w4F6asT20RxLwnXMPutRlEDLbGqFF6e1_7UYM2D6c9nBBf_KUteco3UXy-owcNZ2tGCjLfI_eoNGbwH1JEgNQqh-ptD2zs5JeactF8_IpW4bg0hzH80Ufq5IdVYq5/s1600/IMG_3641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpnikj9-8D8MXIf2w4F6asT20RxLwnXMPutRlEDLbGqFF6e1_7UYM2D6c9nBBf_KUteco3UXy-owcNZ2tGCjLfI_eoNGbwH1JEgNQqh-ptD2zs5JeactF8_IpW4bg0hzH80Ufq5IdVYq5/s640/IMG_3641.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Long hair, overgrown beard and skinny legs are traits I'll never able to achieve</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP_3C6mw3YmLyWM0SmK-fpw4skCAl4e4ZhyxcKdgkYuc4ikKXb2hsg3c8nqcM_tJVf4TF5Et5dYK8ArWuLnVObHhllCLhKM2Lnzv2AZz9J-T4xYIaAJr0eU2rhyphenhyphenvB-9c9vOf1oKxPb6Hbo/s1600/IMG_3640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP_3C6mw3YmLyWM0SmK-fpw4skCAl4e4ZhyxcKdgkYuc4ikKXb2hsg3c8nqcM_tJVf4TF5Et5dYK8ArWuLnVObHhllCLhKM2Lnzv2AZz9J-T4xYIaAJr0eU2rhyphenhyphenvB-9c9vOf1oKxPb6Hbo/s640/IMG_3640.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Registration Area</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO89VorDw9o_QHH1SKSEkGF3hfGp4CIAHu1RQJ7ICzNXwJ4FH-yRRyDfnYqdvWnutF13WsRqUVUYHAXG-cZVCWnRUOU715mMu0wJ7txRISAliULDatdm-Dr_tRsWcSE3FXbh5mnJ1Dk_RY/s1600/IMG_3642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO89VorDw9o_QHH1SKSEkGF3hfGp4CIAHu1RQJ7ICzNXwJ4FH-yRRyDfnYqdvWnutF13WsRqUVUYHAXG-cZVCWnRUOU715mMu0wJ7txRISAliULDatdm-Dr_tRsWcSE3FXbh5mnJ1Dk_RY/s640/IMG_3642.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsGb0toPiuf70otOUX3drO9dgA6WalcoWx-s-L2BCjfjq6CUi1rSk8xDwLCWVSuax06M-z872T4gB-_VYilVyW1hsXVVVTLI1D1Uy7nPA3NvfW9-2pJ5koZzS5sC3u6qizhf3KypK2tgYx/s1600/IMG_3643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsGb0toPiuf70otOUX3drO9dgA6WalcoWx-s-L2BCjfjq6CUi1rSk8xDwLCWVSuax06M-z872T4gB-_VYilVyW1hsXVVVTLI1D1Uy7nPA3NvfW9-2pJ5koZzS5sC3u6qizhf3KypK2tgYx/s640/IMG_3643.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Holding Area in SumVilla - lots of phone and gadgets charging facilities, air-conditioning and clean toilets</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Long after other participants have winded down in Sapa, I was
finally reconnected with my travelling party, and the staff was kind enough to
put some hot meal past dinner time. But it was late, and I had to get up by
02:00 hours for the race so after a soothing cold shower, I cramped in my hot constricting
tent. It was so hot I was close to sleep naked had it not been for my tent
partner.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But as I scrambled to turn off the alarm at 02:30 hours, the air
has cooled considerably, and as I walked to the restaurant for early breakfast,
the sky was rumbling with lightning in faraway sky. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The 70K race started at the entrance of Topas Lodge, and I gathered
a strong crowd of 100 multi-national runners thronged down to a small village
of Ta Van after Asger released us at 04:15 hours. We spent the first 6K on the
road to spread runners thinly, which I spent catching up with Qi and his wife
on our recent misadventure in TMBT 2015.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we hit our first trailhead, it started to drizzle and soon we
arrived at some of the remote rice terraces below the Fansipan in a break of
dawn, with many suspension bridges crossing beautiful streams. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The majority of the earlier route was run in remote villages,
through their houses where livestock and human collide. An interesting
combination of visual and nasal experience thus far. It also mirrored much of
my childhood when I disappeared for hours on end cycling to my besties’ houses
for street games, or rounding up our Siamese fighting fish, or simply went
fishing in remote creeks never having to worry about home until dusk.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigeTLNscg-Q3enEO6lfkyD7HVD_FBEdOT60HLEmLMr0On440gAqvtfB6iQdId7hDlcnmG2r6x8phL-PC0bEhbbEN-iCcd4KoZiGMKMo-qTgzLrXJeH-mXEtx3JCmO3XkLltMIcX0DTlZJR/s1600/12115797_10153113564749149_7673387019268136255_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigeTLNscg-Q3enEO6lfkyD7HVD_FBEdOT60HLEmLMr0On440gAqvtfB6iQdId7hDlcnmG2r6x8phL-PC0bEhbbEN-iCcd4KoZiGMKMo-qTgzLrXJeH-mXEtx3JCmO3XkLltMIcX0DTlZJR/s640/12115797_10153113564749149_7673387019268136255_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">pic credit Frank Chong</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One of the reasons why trail running obsession picks up pace these
days would be largely the romantic idea of how it transported runners off-grid
and away into remote sections of that part of the earth, and VMM certainly did
not disappoint.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At COT 11:00 hours at CP3 (30K), I still felt good, even amazed at
my ability to foxtrot my way among the slippery boulders, and improved leg
strength powering up the first (and highest) ‘killer’ ascend (up 800m of what
I’d categorize as ‘genuinely mild’ climb). Looking at the time, I think I
clocked a decent 5:57hrs – deliriously happy thinking I have conquered the
highest point of the race and I’d be quickly cover the remaining 40K in
respectable time and make it home before dark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But it was merely a placid misdirection on my part being at 1780m
elevation as the trails graduated from clean-and-crisp trails to bad-ass trails
from here onwards. Read on…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">En-route to CP4 (+10K) and CP5 (+8K), my loyal Inov-8 was soon out-performed
when the trails started to go through puddles through the rain. We hike a lot
now, unlike many run-able sections earlier. The climbs are torturous small
steep hills, in some areas are so narrow not even the supermodel buffaloes on
Atkins diet would not be able to pass through. And them descends… those crazy
descends on loose rocks and concrete driveways ready to slide you down with
crazy buffalo trails… It is not easy to describe the muddy terrain we were up
against on that day. Muddy would be an understatement but not without
expectation. It is after all a trail run, and hence regardless the wide array
of adjectives I could throw in, the muddy sections are inescapable and animate
that those who have gone through TMBT 2013 and series of Genting Trailblazer would
only understand. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDU-OdfgMQ8m_QKX2jnmKAG4wx838cH4ngsbDoD0Ks5t8_fkgyRw-T3p2pqRttkxfZyOoOzwE6WjoJmYHDk4AGCI2U4EKTFnIVfyvKAScjcifAr3KO1MnpPCqmTfttsQw_UJfWD2vl7982/s1600/12096512_10153113566219149_5468170884109855790_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDU-OdfgMQ8m_QKX2jnmKAG4wx838cH4ngsbDoD0Ks5t8_fkgyRw-T3p2pqRttkxfZyOoOzwE6WjoJmYHDk4AGCI2U4EKTFnIVfyvKAScjcifAr3KO1MnpPCqmTfttsQw_UJfWD2vl7982/s640/12096512_10153113566219149_5468170884109855790_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Have to endure dung-spa for the entire day</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would have to excuse myself in whatever substance contained in
those slurpee sections as by now the rain has turned many sections of the
trails into a wild pool infused with vomit and manure – I do not have any
pictures taken here, partly because it was raining and my iPhone was dying, but
closest mental image I could offer is ‘<i>buffaloes’
diarrhea’</i> (like seriously, really).
It was awful not knowing what you put your feet into as we traversed
through isolated villages and their open swine cages. I tried my best to keep
my dirty hands off my face but it is something that you have to switch off and
bring your mind away from the doubts. But seriously I was thinking of what Andy
Dufresne had to endure in his final break out to freedom in ‘The Shawshank
Redemption’. Albeit out of context to this adventure, but regardless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On several occasions, as I had been enjoying my bout of running
downhills with few strong Thai runners, we would arrive at many precarious
ledges and we all tripped down looking like a scene out of Takeshi Castle. My
fall broken by a stump just inches away from my crotch and I survived without
any torn section in my Sugoi running shorts, unlike some unnecessary indecent
exposures in others. I think a good layer of my butt fat has cushioned me well
but I had my torso down completed caked in ‘mud’ and the remaining jelly beans
stashed in the back pocket looking like Maltesers!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Family jewels intact, we moved on like a peloton supporting each
other and hit another stride with Thai Somkid Sien-un leading the pack. It was
like uniformed running and comical chicken dancing put together, and I
remembered covering some good grounds in my hot pursuit to meet the COT 15:30
hours at CP5 (48K). Alas, it was a desperately tiring stretch of soft loose trails
as I had a chance to unleash my line-walking skills to balance between narrow
strips of water channels and slipping bunds, and flying down them is no short
of a trapeze comedy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the camaraderie among the fellow ultra runners is outstanding –
we laughed at ourselves silly at every fall and pulled each other at climbs.
When we run and share unprecedented amount of time together in lonely trails we
brought ourselves a lighter sense of humor that every other sufferings were
fast forwarded until we stopped to graze at the water station.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The runners were now sporadic, and surprisingly I soon caught up
with Super Frank in my hot pursuit to catch pocket-rocket Weng Woo. So the mind
game was to catch on the next train, and the next. By now, Super Frank has been
rallying with me in many switchbacks on unrelenting soft trails as we were
shrouded in thick mist as low cloud came down on us much similar to the thick
smog back in KL, as the visibility closed in to 50m. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Catch, latch, overtake, and repeat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglzTUryMpnGg1egS5QahI5pLK9R5skFWzE7nfxK7auWARBR_ar3tHwIkBkGXR5GvAznz3vSx5EFu4tmwYRhOvVS43aviDT1HsM0G7X0UsmbmVmdCg6FzTbSYgRDOoar8NYO-2kgdamJ12n/s1600/12141758_10153113565974149_2256937109569349145_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglzTUryMpnGg1egS5QahI5pLK9R5skFWzE7nfxK7auWARBR_ar3tHwIkBkGXR5GvAznz3vSx5EFu4tmwYRhOvVS43aviDT1HsM0G7X0UsmbmVmdCg6FzTbSYgRDOoar8NYO-2kgdamJ12n/s640/12141758_10153113565974149_2256937109569349145_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Customary selfie with The Boss since TNF SG</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am learning on how to resist the temptation to inspect hot spots
inside my shoes as the TMBT incident was still reminiscent of such flop of a
rookie mistake. It was simply not an idea I would like to entertain in the last
20K of the race – so whatever was cooking down there will need to continue
cooking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Soon I finally caught up to Weng Woo and, like a half-drunken
cowboy, I lassoed onto him and bobbled in a hard pace as he pulled me to a blazing
pace. As an added bonus, I was also have to resort myself to an indecent
exposure on his part. Luckily the sun was setting quickly in Sapa Valley. It
was Sunday, and it was indeed a Full Moon Festival! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1LPtDnK53lVosfh6sbQcRvhlVpghwd1Pxq06xL2s6_m0nbTYAROmRoU0PuopPH-a5luVxNzmKu_6bYzlaBdNjf7Yte_uHgS5SUIvDTAUrOC5qwq10Q1IggXzoxOpJeOlXnLLQM-P5ICh/s1600/12143109_10153113564569149_4593823530800966882_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1LPtDnK53lVosfh6sbQcRvhlVpghwd1Pxq06xL2s6_m0nbTYAROmRoU0PuopPH-a5luVxNzmKu_6bYzlaBdNjf7Yte_uHgS5SUIvDTAUrOC5qwq10Q1IggXzoxOpJeOlXnLLQM-P5ICh/s640/12143109_10153113564569149_4593823530800966882_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We soon secured a spot at WS5 and made it way before the COT with
an excess threshold of about 70minutes, and again I fumbled at the water
station. It is at water stations that my lack of professional skills to sort
myself out that left me behind those fit Thais who seemed to float, touch’n’go
at the banana station and refueled in lightning speed. I fumbled to fill the
bladder, infuse with Gatorade, refuel my bottle and have a banana. Not to
mention the stupid insoles coming back up from behind like Eliud Kipchoge’s
drama at Berlin Marathon in the same week (my Inov-8 Trailroc 255 not a distant
relative to the Nike prototype used by Eliud, but of much less attention and
media coverage) causing mild blisters but I had gone beyond clearing the debris
and blisters at that point. But the rituals, especially from CP5 onwards saw me
being smoked <i>kawkawlat</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next COT 17:30 hours at CP6 (55K) was another frantic
progression but a mere 400m climb for a distance of 7K left no room for error
even with the time advantage we had. But en-route to CP7 saw many crazy long,
unrelenting downhills through secondary villages. The Inov-8 held well this
time, and my routine to snip the toenails before making the trip to Hanoi paid
off. As a mind distraction, I wondered on the new trail runners in KL showing
off their well-groomed feet after each runs – it’s mind-boggling. Not only they
run faster generally, looks fitter (did I mention much younger and better skin
complexion?), ability to pay for endless exotic races, and above all have well-manicured
toenails? They seemed like a gen-Z coming straight out of Gattaca! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back to reality! (*selfslap*)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">CP7 – we refilled, refueled with non-illustrious bananas, and
pulled out our headlamps. The Silva Trail was dirty from the previous slides
down the ravine, probably splattered with some fresh dung from the smell of it.
But the smell of victory annulled any doubts I had on the fact that I had fresh
manure on my head. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A quick nod from Weng, and we were off into the foot of Silvermine
as the day progresses darker. In 15minutes, we were completely engulfed in
darkness but not without dotted lights ahead and down below. It is easy to be
afraid in running a night section in a jungle, and the fear is real. But it was
comforting at least 3 Marshalls spread apart in that short stretch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We hobbled to the plateau atop Silvermine to a dying water station
– I hope its last drop of water would reach the last runner. The 2.5K was
covered in blardy-slow 1 hour of slow hike and incessant rumble in my tummy. We
caught our breath, and hurried down in similar manner we attacked any
downhills. The trails were mostly wide open gravel road which adds fun to
zapping about between potholes and boulders. Under the full moon just only at
7.00p.m., we spotted the Topas Lodge and started running to the last corner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the last stretch where the party was more audible, we picked up
pace to the resort entrance and sprinted to the finish line in full applause.
Finally it was over and I was elated we returned well ahead of the COT. It
certainly is an achievement for both me and Weng Woo, for having pairs of fresh
legs coming to Topas Valley. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The finishing line was nothing short of festive – there were tones
of supporters cheering returning runners. There was bonfire, loud music, BBQ,
beers, and a buffet dinner. After an agonizing ‘excursion’, coming back to such
a warm embrace was really comforting, and that hit all the right notes, which
understandably why runners kept coming back to these races.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzB_WkuM-2DscP6jAAaP6Db7UaSaAPW84v98iURMsZEQG0JHpuJChonqb20Ihng5JXIYu_N5bH2gdqhF5wAZSb27EDNvswMALuSo4egYbeCAUlKULDsZAysykzYB2CLpetAQT9oERPgS8P/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzB_WkuM-2DscP6jAAaP6Db7UaSaAPW84v98iURMsZEQG0JHpuJChonqb20Ihng5JXIYu_N5bH2gdqhF5wAZSb27EDNvswMALuSo4egYbeCAUlKULDsZAysykzYB2CLpetAQT9oERPgS8P/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+301.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Glad to be back without having to endure creepy night section for too long. <br />Menyesal seminggu!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I returned to the tent after not much dinner in my system and a
little stiff in the hamstring from the late dash, and had a quick examination
on my foot health after a crumpling final 20K running. Surprisingly many small
blisters around the toes are much more tolerable as I somehow managed a slightly
heightened pain threshold. I was spared from any new blisters at both my arches
as they have been bolstered by the post-TMBT incident. So apart from the
predictable toes and some cuts on both Calcaneal (Achilles) Tendons (<i>fuiyyofuiyyofuiyyoo!</i>), I think I was
good for a short recovery run the next morning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But still I spent a good hour in the shower scrubbing what felt
like a mask of fresh manure on my feet, scraping every nooks on every toes so
I’d safe myself from any scary dreams that night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I awoke clean and fresh off my mudcakes I spent hours cleaning at
midnight last night, to what seemed like I have ditched a weather catastrophe yesterday
as the sun was now baking! But now I managed to appreciate the vastness of
Topas Valley, with Ta Van and Sapa beyond. The expanse 360 degrees view is
(personally) not as jaw-dropping as Rinjani National Park, but amazing
nonetheless. A quick breakfast and frenzied packing ensued as I need to catch the
08:30 bus ride to Sapa for my recovery run. The signs of a race party at Topas
Lodge ended last night just reduced to litters as all paraphernalia has been
offloaded 18km away to Sapa for the morning run.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The drama unfolded literally behind us as we had a panic discovery
that some 5 bags have fallen off the bus en route in the morning! So anywhere
in that 1 hour of journey, somebody could have discovered our bags and unload
its contents. My mind had yet to register the impediment of the matter as the
10K start was merely 10 minutes away and I got distracted by many local’s
gleaming lean calves (the 10K run started at 10.00 a.m.!).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During the run I realized of the cash stashed in my wallet and some
of the favorite running tees, a Suunto charger and not to mention my shoes,
among others in my Tellus. The loss would have been severely damaging with the
remaining 2 days of Hanoi. Luckily I had my passport and (dying) iPhone with
some Coke cash on me. So, halfway through the run, the revelation of the
missing items was disturbing, and coming back to the square with no definitive
answer was revolting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But worth noting is Tran Ngoc Quan, the Vice Director VMM who took
it in his calm stride and ensured that I was well taken care off. He put me off
my stinking vest, check me into a hotel for a nice hot shower, and access to
wi-fi for me to get updates of the world. He gave me some cash for lunch and
dinner, assured that transportation is being arranged to transport us straight
into our Hanoi hotels. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was close to 15:00 hours when the words came through of the
recovered 3 bags, and 5 minutes later the pictures confirmed my Tellus was among
the safe package (we were told the team is sent to negotiate with the villagers
– could our bags were held for ransom?). But it was another 3 hours before we
were reunited with our bags, and the taxi transported us back into the city,
which we arrived just in time after the Lantern Festival’s crowd had dispersed that
saved us a lot of traffic misadventures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh wait – the 10K recovery run in Sapa!<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In similar fashion for all my running events this year, I paid very
little attention to details and course descriptions, and that almost proved
lethal when I towed the line for the 10K. We started off with fast 3K downhills
on the road section out of Sapa town, followed by further furious 3K downhills
on compacted lateritic red soil, some through single file trails. I generally
had fun as I pressed on my sore quads and calves, and flew off without care
like a drunken moth. Make no mistake that at every switchbacks it was just as
easy to dive off the ravine like a scene out of “Moero Attack”, but that adds
to the thrill overall. Soon, I quickly learnt that the Nike Lunar road shoes I
had on were inadequate for the remaining half as we traversed into more muddy
and loose single trails through villages, and more fresh manure! It got
progressively worst as we started to climb some badass hills, very steep in
comparison to the trails a day earlier that reduced us to a mere walk. I was
handicapped in absence of my poles and the quads were bursting at its seams! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was not a walk in the park, not at all a recovery run I had
envisioned in my head, although I was surprised how well my legs responded to
the vigorous slaloms and flats.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIY96N8qrw_6dGRUiEp2j12OswscOjFKV4-85e1mS_7QEsNn4Gj3ni-r4cFbJ-IHScafQ5G9z2EXmk3iryBuYNVhIfz5ITgEsLCwk44HDB7IzSy5y7EgeqHyxjM9m9W2aa085ZypGbcW6c/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+444.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIY96N8qrw_6dGRUiEp2j12OswscOjFKV4-85e1mS_7QEsNn4Gj3ni-r4cFbJ-IHScafQ5G9z2EXmk3iryBuYNVhIfz5ITgEsLCwk44HDB7IzSy5y7EgeqHyxjM9m9W2aa085ZypGbcW6c/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+444.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSWECKjPZldPkeDIwGDCA2TZuz8WURMeRYInlBLW-6u6lIbTXoNXcbIKN_BB1XLnKQ8zYY0mz1k8j2ogwKC4OtbMnl8cnHH0StTbnFWblbbCmTdWOQeyzWh8Vpk4YU-cGVTjroQplECAVo/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+440.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSWECKjPZldPkeDIwGDCA2TZuz8WURMeRYInlBLW-6u6lIbTXoNXcbIKN_BB1XLnKQ8zYY0mz1k8j2ogwKC4OtbMnl8cnHH0StTbnFWblbbCmTdWOQeyzWh8Vpk4YU-cGVTjroQplECAVo/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+440.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I came back into Sapa only after about 90 minutes, a respectable
time considering the 75K a day earlier, and the moderate trails 10K that was.
Little did I know that I was placed 2<sup>nd</sup> placing in my age category,
even though there were only 6 finishers in my category (pun intended) (okay
overall I ranked 19<sup>th</sup>, but please let me enjoy some limelight
here?). Not bad for a fat guy, eh?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Reflections<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 Overall, I’d recommend VMM to those who seeks new adventures, but
my biggest turn down is travelling on a non-eventful 6-hour ride into Sapa,
unless next trip is designed around having my family with me. That would be
much more meaningful. Logistics are a myriad of potential issues, but if you
are mentally strong you’d be alright. In the wake of the recent bag fiasco, always
keep your bags with you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">VMM has
been what I gather close to Spartan-inspired race with a hybrid of technical
trails, flat dirt paths, muddy terrain / paddy fields, which lacks optimal
traction on loose terrain; as well as sections on tarmac and concrete
driveways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Hopeful 2016 runners need to be well-prepared with their choice of
shoes with aggressive outsoles and quick-drainage properties. Generally the
weather would be hot although 2014 and 2015 editions were wet but personally, I
hardly need to fish my Stormshell out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> In the land of abundant fresh fruits nothing short of dragonfruit,
melons, lime/oranges, and rice in general – VMM Organizer had been overly
cautious and conservative in their fuel and hydration choice where only bananas
and plain water were served. It is after all a semi self-sufficient race, and I
came prepared with my choice of potato chips and some bread, lollies and jelly
beans.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The mandatory kits required of 70K runners are not checked at any
point of the registration and race but that does not discount the magnitude of
significance to be level-headed and fully equipped venturing into the trails.
Rain gears, medical kits and proper fuel and hydration are spelled out as a
reminder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Despite my anxiety of losing my way from misplaced route markers
(or the lack of it) as reported by few bloggers from the 2014 edition, I found
that it is unfounded as the markers are sufficient. Sure the kids took them out
and fooled around with the markers but runners are easily guided by common sense
and move with no drama. It is also considerably well-staffed at all critical
junctions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Choice of Shoes<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I did not bring the Salomon which I have not tested its ability to
expand with my feet after 10 hours on the trails – and having already DNF-ed
the subsequent MRU and TMBT in succession, I was not about to find out the hard
way. Therefore my old loathsome Inov-8 Trailroc 255 would have to work some
magic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yet the 255’s mettle has not been the best experience to the
mud-mashing race that VMM was. Trailroc 255’s pair is considerably versatile
but after more than 500km on the table lacks adequate rock plate / shank for
added protection from sharp rocks (which is sensitive in nursing underfoot
blisters – possibly caused by water retention and slow drainage) and other
objects in addition to abating some food fatigue when exposed for extended
period in the mountains.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Choice of Fuel<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know this is not some new revelation to you, but I have been
conscientiously monitored the gel intakes every hour and I had been able to
continuously move forward with limited breaks at water stations. The locomotion
alone helped in better aerobic aptitude improvement (fuiyyo!) which translated
to strong return into Topas with minimal muscle soreness, and without injuries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would have hoped for more solid, high sodium, real food like
noodles and rice but that was not an available option. But since there was no
drop bag facility, whatever fuel experiment was hampered and I had to be
content with Snickers, Jelly Beans, gels and nuts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Would I come back to Topas / Sapa in 2016?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, the cheap TNF merchandises and mountain gears has its commercial
magnetic pull, and I would not mind making the trip with my family as the
journey packs many live educational tools for the kids, and cheap spa and
massage therapy for my missus and me, as well as loads awe-inspiring and
enriching experiences. 2016 would also witness the introduction of the first
VMM 100K edition, so we’ll have to wait and see if the Ringgit strengthen in
the next few months.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>Topas Ecolodge </i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>(pics credit to Atiqah / Raj)</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTtIWGbrrFxk4bw4rpGXI9YI0b3nQpkNr8V9ydg55oFK7mFRhfubzUOTeYrKN-SSg75iiTI9x1P-HLZoyMk8ZRhXT8FJPYGLeO7AIMS9NzhJ3dPYRd2ZcL5v0Htyta2YdLs5oyGhBchUoJ/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+306.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTtIWGbrrFxk4bw4rpGXI9YI0b3nQpkNr8V9ydg55oFK7mFRhfubzUOTeYrKN-SSg75iiTI9x1P-HLZoyMk8ZRhXT8FJPYGLeO7AIMS9NzhJ3dPYRd2ZcL5v0Htyta2YdLs5oyGhBchUoJ/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+306.JPG" width="640" /></a></i></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicbcG6MeEDyVQqXK8y38I-9hyphenhyphenIdLaTtDsim_wmn-92kvik87DrMxASnDKZ1pTrRjihNtjRIzS3KQzSYgWfvmpNi96EQbyOad6bT1llFeF5BAxER5BsyOrmuOPeCgQg3ppLg52JF6DPhc0-/s1600/IMG_3796.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicbcG6MeEDyVQqXK8y38I-9hyphenhyphenIdLaTtDsim_wmn-92kvik87DrMxASnDKZ1pTrRjihNtjRIzS3KQzSYgWfvmpNi96EQbyOad6bT1llFeF5BAxER5BsyOrmuOPeCgQg3ppLg52JF6DPhc0-/s640/IMG_3796.JPG" width="640" /></a></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8LdcH_edUhpcCMeyh2TQ8W-040wkIEoUGvdb4E0iC8byhX5FwF_SaO-NZaGBx6ttvozw89HjXGyF_rVFFy9zcZ2ZTCSdW2ZbgPPs7EKXg4B8kO2KKBXOXZGHdg1b7wzgXq_v063jCBnq/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+238.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw8LdcH_edUhpcCMeyh2TQ8W-040wkIEoUGvdb4E0iC8byhX5FwF_SaO-NZaGBx6ttvozw89HjXGyF_rVFFy9zcZ2ZTCSdW2ZbgPPs7EKXg4B8kO2KKBXOXZGHdg1b7wzgXq_v063jCBnq/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+238.JPG" width="640" /></a></i></b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24srkh86VQrjtKs5BTPdaSnNPwWF4N93lkJAeUDmJHtsor68LP9U8wEV7-ZZv_-H8EOGhdtHBMoge3LyX9ALNU1fqt6H9k8SPTYB70xXdGYZV__imUMS5n2RvBY0Ftjm_tkFlEVC31JQx/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+231.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24srkh86VQrjtKs5BTPdaSnNPwWF4N93lkJAeUDmJHtsor68LP9U8wEV7-ZZv_-H8EOGhdtHBMoge3LyX9ALNU1fqt6H9k8SPTYB70xXdGYZV__imUMS5n2RvBY0Ftjm_tkFlEVC31JQx/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+231.JPG" width="640" /></a></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>Sapa Town</i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs36XluJgAxYfoCgoxyWgExbnyBLIdZEHtqV_y_3lW3SsNm2PuKAqKZq8b9fbOHTdKPymT8-Ni8-1Q7S6J7F9ty2lxBDJh8zwNhP-j4Ff8ZlG6i4EKLrTSEBH8iTGRnBS3IxfLqgTPVJRB/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+433.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs36XluJgAxYfoCgoxyWgExbnyBLIdZEHtqV_y_3lW3SsNm2PuKAqKZq8b9fbOHTdKPymT8-Ni8-1Q7S6J7F9ty2lxBDJh8zwNhP-j4Ff8ZlG6i4EKLrTSEBH8iTGRnBS3IxfLqgTPVJRB/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+433.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3LFJnZyb-bvdZIJbAqyG729re3F7oFt1YtJL08tXPLHfEh4LTsV-53-Nk3oGm9YYC7IIvtBj-8O8mZduwQay5ZHtdIQf6dbvzVhGLqmbVJeSeDJ6z2B-hmWC52Y8BDtou8UyJ_uNKa9U/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+437.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3LFJnZyb-bvdZIJbAqyG729re3F7oFt1YtJL08tXPLHfEh4LTsV-53-Nk3oGm9YYC7IIvtBj-8O8mZduwQay5ZHtdIQf6dbvzVhGLqmbVJeSeDJ6z2B-hmWC52Y8BDtou8UyJ_uNKa9U/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+437.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><i>Hanoi!</i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsILYTVs3D_kKpLzJ1QV-GcFeAE3uIvQNRlhHKJEN-fpdQ2Qq5M4QOWz32YO1qbS3wtuSKZ-G3xdFXzjfDaW2IUGhC_dzYeYdz3VusxeJXk5GEUSChdOjoDebY_R0YSMpYwsGGHclyJgcO/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+490.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsILYTVs3D_kKpLzJ1QV-GcFeAE3uIvQNRlhHKJEN-fpdQ2Qq5M4QOWz32YO1qbS3wtuSKZ-G3xdFXzjfDaW2IUGhC_dzYeYdz3VusxeJXk5GEUSChdOjoDebY_R0YSMpYwsGGHclyJgcO/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+490.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE7p_5ERtdvUMtmWuCMVuF5gBEoBQExtxXazInvG_2Ct1_RZAp4A06IINIaarAJWEGCv-H-4wJvGd0XMncXJYYNWJNbUCrTyYzEYh2qOlg6trWtiUNaQ_oWRXhF7VHpR909wzfN8k1IOpj/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+487.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE7p_5ERtdvUMtmWuCMVuF5gBEoBQExtxXazInvG_2Ct1_RZAp4A06IINIaarAJWEGCv-H-4wJvGd0XMncXJYYNWJNbUCrTyYzEYh2qOlg6trWtiUNaQ_oWRXhF7VHpR909wzfN8k1IOpj/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+487.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAV41-4VuDLKTuoNs8InBgz_EJTK18-zmmsHKTjrqxuKJN5RpHimCK7bG6z_juw-uBLTx5mrOManQSKJIiFl4AfChEP5LFQUHe2w64tNXbY6V2kbZR4-g0fsWvCIUqkUxFXVw1zvSt__35/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+477.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAV41-4VuDLKTuoNs8InBgz_EJTK18-zmmsHKTjrqxuKJN5RpHimCK7bG6z_juw-uBLTx5mrOManQSKJIiFl4AfChEP5LFQUHe2w64tNXbY6V2kbZR4-g0fsWvCIUqkUxFXVw1zvSt__35/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+477.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOmNCbWZnNUTFsci8N8MFiEZsNH-TQkYU1SucSvmpWKxRGo5XqSgNYnuw1MEPIKTQRg1kVNS7qj0tuZiOtqRfUcHN0_ddKjsfP-m2ebv27gBsKqLCrRcFNi4C-uHcyxidAc_1nSs7Tcj1/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+470.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOmNCbWZnNUTFsci8N8MFiEZsNH-TQkYU1SucSvmpWKxRGo5XqSgNYnuw1MEPIKTQRg1kVNS7qj0tuZiOtqRfUcHN0_ddKjsfP-m2ebv27gBsKqLCrRcFNi4C-uHcyxidAc_1nSs7Tcj1/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+470.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGT5F0jSpBHQutkMmWTXFBqZfLSVkv9bpeBkALRxrLLgq-j1m-1El36BN7GOkZVRLeRQuWqClYAMa81nnSKjuywxcbGKossRtcKJvdgjsk_Q1kzV-jrdv6vmiZAwQ4bAUEkjBCTQWmCxK/s1600/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+491.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieGT5F0jSpBHQutkMmWTXFBqZfLSVkv9bpeBkALRxrLLgq-j1m-1El36BN7GOkZVRLeRQuWqClYAMa81nnSKjuywxcbGKossRtcKJvdgjsk_Q1kzV-jrdv6vmiZAwQ4bAUEkjBCTQWmCxK/s640/Vietnam+Mountain+Marathon+2015+491.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-67177030657159914822015-08-27T05:08:00.001-07:002015-09-01T19:53:33.758-07:00Mount Rinjani Ultra 2015 - Here We Go Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><b>MRU
Year 2... geez... what the hell was I thinking?<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Not-so-Fun-Facts
<o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Apart
from the traditional MRU and RAR, Hendra has also cooked up a more sadistic Lombok
Ultra Triathlon (<a href="http://lombokultratriathlon.com/en/"><span style="color: windowtext;">http://lombokultratriathlon.com/en/</span></a>), which
starts a day earlier and finishes within the same MRU's cut-off time. To nudge
my crazy-adrenaline-spiked friends’ spinning, Lombok Ultra Triathlon is a 6k
swim, 300k cycling and the icing-on-the-cake is the 52K MRU!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Be rest assured you’ll
get a complete Lombok experience of </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.1200008392334px;">sea,</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17.1200008392334px;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">sun and summit. So have I got your
feathers ruffled, you full-time athletes, you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The
MRU 2015 overall cut-off time is maintained at 22 hours, but the starting line
has been shifted from midnight, to at 22:00 hours. Published with additional
one intermediate cut-off time at 11 hours for the summit – complete bollocks!
That’s all I have to say.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Malaysian
contingent made the largest number, thanks to the overgrowing popularity in
trail running in Malaysia in particular, I mean – there are tonnes of trail
running events in Malaysia easily almost every weekend. But some say it was partly because of my blog.
Really? That’s hilarious… You meant Yim’s blog, right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">My
super incredibluos Ultra Facts</span></u><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Training nowadays, apart from being completely non-existent, is indeed downright unattainable. It is a constant struggle to steal a
quality 3K run when there are other more important things in life to keep it
well-greased. I did not know I was gonna start running (albeit amateur-ishly) at the age of 32, or else
I would have not chosen Architecture as a career. Perhaps I would choose to be a gardener
instead.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Ultra
may not be </span><u style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 107%;">my</u><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"> best answer to weight loss – sure it proved my heightened endurance
level, but my increased girth cushioned by pay-off dinners, unnecessarily
carbo-loading sessions, and prolonged Zero Weeks after mid-training events has
more sugar-spikes seems to suggest that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Ultra trail events seem the only conceivable
excuse to see the largely unexplored commercial territories with minimum amount
of money. A quick comparison that amount I’d spend at VMM for a 4-day package
(airfare included) is still cheaper than joining a local obstacle-course event this
year in KL – per-kilometer. It’s madness I know, but that’s how it is. Yeah,
whatever happened to RM10 for a 10K race and bottomless Milo van?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Majority of ultra trail runners are very
pleasant and great travelling companion, especially whenever they carry with
them a humble competitive spirit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Investment in lightweight kits whenever affordable – there is
very little room to play here and they
can get quite costly – but you’ll thank them later for a healthier lower and
upper back, especially when you are old like me.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jEgP923lFHZWRRjsQ7nav6pxFnTtD4BfhUeB3zxkjp_Qcmyf9mGSSnbDJKHfGUjJyxlAN-p-3JKXpXEvhldK7W6Qzp0u10lTUa3FW71Ng-pbpgS64xuG2rPaIT7lAUb1bVroh8IGsWD-/s1600/IMG_0747.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jEgP923lFHZWRRjsQ7nav6pxFnTtD4BfhUeB3zxkjp_Qcmyf9mGSSnbDJKHfGUjJyxlAN-p-3JKXpXEvhldK7W6Qzp0u10lTUa3FW71Ng-pbpgS64xuG2rPaIT7lAUb1bVroh8IGsWD-/s640/IMG_0747.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">And the drama…</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Well,
I flew into Lombok nowhere near physically fit and ready than the previous year
(what else is new? But honestly and truthfully, zero, so please wipe that
smirk!… as I was buried 6 feet under statutory books, by-laws and all the
boring, but extremely mandatory for my profession, literatures), if not weaker
having dragged my swollen right ankles across Kemensah, Australia and FRIM. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">But
the AA flight out of KLIA2 seemed extravagant with the presence of many KL
runners heading for MRU/RAR – a stark difference from last year. The afternoon
flight was warm with many smiles and gleaming calves, but the bobbing flight
riding the air pockets cuddled me to sleep. Worth to note when picking seats en
route to Lombok is to pick the right wing (window seat even so) as Mount
Rinjani stands proud above the clouds in the late evening is a sight to behold.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpasHKtEa3C-mLHYrIv0Qd5HETNSPZtblzzZcwNyg9lNeEmaBknUiVAIuCsgr_EA4Fnr9Pbn-ayuX8kibD33SCABSZfl6psVuA7DjoU6Q5cRu_YaIWxgIZ_SB6XcOPY9Vyo7N2mDR5dtQ/s1600/IMG_7679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOpasHKtEa3C-mLHYrIv0Qd5HETNSPZtblzzZcwNyg9lNeEmaBknUiVAIuCsgr_EA4Fnr9Pbn-ayuX8kibD33SCABSZfl6psVuA7DjoU6Q5cRu_YaIWxgIZ_SB6XcOPY9Vyo7N2mDR5dtQ/s640/IMG_7679.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">No, I did not fly Garuda. Like most of the glossy pics in this entry, there were all sourced online to prevent my kind readers some anti-sleep placebo</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">And it
was great to be in Lombok again all ready to run the for elusive finisher’s tee
after a month of anxiously reading race preparation and training updates from
fellow comrades. We exited the airport drama-free, into our rented car, and
stopped for dinner at Senggigi. By the time we arrived in Senaru, it was close
to midnight. 22 hours to the race!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">The
next morning I woke up to fuzzy hellos and hot banana pancakes with dribble of
melted chocolate. It was a lazy morning which sets to be a lazy afternoon. By
noon, bag-drop and registration system has moved from its ‘cowboy-esque’
fashion last year in a newly built cabana overlooking the pool of the most posh lodge
in Senaru. But the ‘cowboy-esque-ship’ extends further when there was no proper
mandatory gear check or any safety check. I rub your back, you rub my back…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">I
welcome the Organizer’s durable clear plastic bags in view of making sure
everything and my dropbag dry and clean, but all was made to adhere to the max
2kg weight limit (measured by feel), of which my Pocari Sweat bottles were the
only casualty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">And
that was it. I spent the next hours eating and sleeping – something I am very
good at nowadays.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Fast
forward – it was raining the whole evening and we have all been extremely
anxious on packing the right gear for the run, but in the end I stuck to the
original plan with my shorts and drifit. Both Windshell and Stormshell are
folded away with no weight whatsoever (magic!). For hydration and fuel, I was
modest by carrying only 4 gels, a pack of asamboi, a litre of pre-mixed
Gatorade (2 front bottles and a little in the bladder) to keep things light for
the first hill attack, few Mars and Snickers and Jellybeans. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">I
awoke at 5.00 p.m. reluctantly rolling off my wafer-thin bed and ordered the
Bibik to heat up my accidental fried rice. The other guys have been off to do
what tourists are supposed to be doing but I know I am a completely hopeless
when I have little sleep. By then all equipments – Suunto, extra headlamp, Sony
Walkman, iPod shuffle have been fully recharged through competent negotiation
with my roommate on limited powerpoint outlet use.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">It
has been almost 24-hours since I arrived in Lombok, and no sign of long toilet
break – my bowel showing signs of carbo-storage alert in anticipation of long
adventure coming up ahead – regardless what I do. Milk usually does the trick
but I am baffled at this new development – probably the thoughts of washing off
with iced-cold tap water is a factor I cannot strike off immediately as it is
damn painful!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">I
finished dinner and went through the hydration pack again and satisfied myself
with the arrangement. I tested the mouthpiece of the bladder – a little bitter
aftertaste of stale Gatorade post-TNF Australia was still apparent… I looked at
my Trailroc, it still have the signs of the torturous climbs of Nellies Pass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">The
remaining hours I spent tossing around trying to harvest as much shuteyes as
possible – to no avail of course as all sorts of zoo animals are wrecking havoc
inside of me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Finally,
after a long wait, the group huddled and was ready to move to the starting line
– about 2K away from where we stayed. 5 years ago I’d jog as my warm-up stretch
but now I am happy to ‘sweep’ behind preparing math quizzes inside my head for
the big climbs. It was humid and the road littered with stray dogs, the
starless night. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Anticipation
build-ups as the hour we were standing pointlessly at the starting line, taking
selfies – literally melt into minutes as
I spent worrying looking for the loos and even more anxious queuing in line to
get into one. And as minutes were inching closer into mere seconds, it felt
like someone was pulling a rubberband so stretched, that as the gun-off came,
and the runners disappeared into the blackhole. Immediately I lost sight of
Joll, Wan, Ben, Dendang, Israd and Alan – not to mention the 2 Salomon brothers
and Bud. Little did many realized only a handful made it back within the
cut-off time. The goddamn cut-off time!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">A
few miles up the trailhead, the course expectedly started climbing steeply in a
manic fashion. I have seen this last year, so my target was to keep plugging
away as I know my sleep threshold is just 2 hours away, and I need to try to
get past WS1 before that happens so I could clear the bushes before midnight. I
think this year I maintained a good lead considering my fitness, arriving
fairly quickly at WS1. No time to spare (and no food served this year), I
quickly headed in the-then now mossy shrubs all around – the clearing is near,
and the howling wind moved above me, when all of a sudden RynaRynz came like
Jacques Villenueve in his lucky Williams back in 1998. Just like that marks the
start of the ‘Bukit Botak section as she smoked me like a deer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxHJA73QBf1YBNUSH6RfQlE-h1jkp8I-tBxnPRirutn-RaBDTtdEFD3yobZIh-Qph5-qOow2eSiO0-DgwhnWVUxN0PPmkG9i6LRClinnfyCeEEOoSeDcWbtH6pnZpx-VSOPiaH-bd6UIUz/s1600/Senaru-bnr3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxHJA73QBf1YBNUSH6RfQlE-h1jkp8I-tBxnPRirutn-RaBDTtdEFD3yobZIh-Qph5-qOow2eSiO0-DgwhnWVUxN0PPmkG9i6LRClinnfyCeEEOoSeDcWbtH6pnZpx-VSOPiaH-bd6UIUz/s640/Senaru-bnr3.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczREGuSuNUkhPla0oUchpHqH7RIEtmqNC5xyMPGmsUu8TNo9wZlhDrSe3x8dUHcmZln0ilXQCaPTpBgMlcKarvKG90ciP3L-6_ACxhtnVK1HadMDLmynQkPcHt29q81vLiix_fFiDcE7B/s1600/Camp-on-Rinjani-Mountain-Lombok.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczREGuSuNUkhPla0oUchpHqH7RIEtmqNC5xyMPGmsUu8TNo9wZlhDrSe3x8dUHcmZln0ilXQCaPTpBgMlcKarvKG90ciP3L-6_ACxhtnVK1HadMDLmynQkPcHt29q81vLiix_fFiDcE7B/s640/Camp-on-Rinjani-Mountain-Lombok.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSj2pp7Cxgf26HqrQFfnEMTNTrx1m68-2OEFEHAZn32LZujJhyphenhyphen1_q1jcBza24mz1pIEl_Uz877sQPKH_V_Jzw2YHtzELQBXRQHDZb16Oe6QnePSb2f-iLipZ024gzST03x-D4zY_V3jc6I/s1600/14294611442_c1e89443c7_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSj2pp7Cxgf26HqrQFfnEMTNTrx1m68-2OEFEHAZn32LZujJhyphenhyphen1_q1jcBza24mz1pIEl_Uz877sQPKH_V_Jzw2YHtzELQBXRQHDZb16Oe6QnePSb2f-iLipZ024gzST03x-D4zY_V3jc6I/s640/14294611442_c1e89443c7_b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">It is such a evil plan to have these gorgeous landscape to be enjoyed only when returning back to Senaru, because it would have been far more palatable to run them in broad daylight</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">It
was close to midnight, and what happened to me in Singapore Sundown 2009 came
back to haunt me – almost immediately and without warning, the speed waned and
zombieness took over my body. Even though the motion is still somewhat a
forward progression, I would need to stop every 50m-or-so to catch a nap. I
looked beyond me – the trail of headlamps long before me below the hills, and
snakes upward to a never-ending climbs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">My sleep-deprivation-build-up
from the previous weeks burning midnight oil (actually mostly catching up on
Masterchef Australia reruns and Grey’s Anatomy Season 9) caught up as I mostly
slogged on boulders and catching some circling lambs propped by my poles. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">WS2 greeted
us with no food as I was desperately trying to stay awake, and then I grabbed a
can of Milo they handed out. There must be a weird concoction of stupidity and
delusion that was as almost immediately my bowel turned and remained at unease
for the entire journey. But I know the will be tonnes of killer descents from
that point on so I quickly sorted out the fine sand from the mild climb en
route, and started to rock’n’roll. I mean – quite literally as the there are
some terrifying drops to WS3, and I still carry some kind of trauma when I
somersaulted off the edge last year, so I was weary and second-guessed my trust
in the shoes and everything. Some amount of comfort however, came from knowing
the trail includes many runnable sections so I could gain some grounds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">True
enough, I caught on pocket-rocket Wani by the Segara Anak lake, rather relieved
to have a strong pacer. We motivated each other silently coming into WS3, and
beyond at the otherwise awe-inspiring views, it is also a mind-boggling climbs
towards WS4. Even though we were moving ahead silently, my mind played the
views I was presented with last year as the rising sun bathed the cliffs and
ridges at that particular stretch, but now since my sleep threshold over, I
need to haul myself to WS4 by 5:30 a.m.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">I
knew exactly how punishing the climb is if tackled in broad daylight, so having
to do it in stark darkness is mostly welcomed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">By
the time I reached the first tent before Plawangan Sembalun, it had been eerily
quiet but this soon turned into a festive intersection as the volunteers
greeted us runners with much enthusiasm just short of fireworks! I finally caught
up with my furious TMBT night buddy, Isaac, and to my surprise – Israd! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">In
what seemed like a fish market at wee hours of the morning, I located my
dropbag fairly quickly to get my stash of chips and Redbull, and as calm as a Tasmanian
Devil – put on the compression long socks, double with a base layer and a
Stormshell (it was freezing), change of fresh batteries, and refill my bladder.
Israd was kind enough to wait for the summit attack together, and I think we
were off WS4 in 5 mins – a new achievement for me. No narcissistic selfies
involved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">The remaining
8.3 miles would see continuous and monstrous climbs seemed formidable from the
get go. It was just starting to break dawn, and we were off plugging away. The
first sandy section where we met Puzi coming down very strong, was tackled
fuss-free as we hopped on more solid ground to get better traction upwards. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">To
those who have attempted the summit this year would testify at the sheer beauty
of Rinjani – the crazy expanse of Lombok island, dotted farmhouses, and beyond
to Mount Agung in Bali. But make no mistake – Rinjani is a not a walk in the
park. As tempting as it was to awe at its beauty, I had to encourage Israd and
Isaac to keep moving and set achievable rest stops to achieve the strict
cut-off time, so up and up we marched, grazing our poles and donning our layers
as temperature dropped and cool breeze kicked up with fine ash particles – I was
still nursing a post-cold a week prior, am now sure as hell my nasal deposits
are all blackened similar to my toes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">From
where we stood, the Segara Anak Lake is now further minisculed from our view
but the summit is still elusive as hell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OyQnbwZQNaP2_XDc9YQFj0G9NIj97u_xbMzISekeStQgtf3b8yA4GRpMnaDm7F9XhnOAUUMxpQoG9Ij4FsPL0AP42FtxWNpyKm-HSK49kPCFafT0t-yn5Mjj40vNVgSyIjNCo1se1uUt/s1600/IMG_2920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OyQnbwZQNaP2_XDc9YQFj0G9NIj97u_xbMzISekeStQgtf3b8yA4GRpMnaDm7F9XhnOAUUMxpQoG9Ij4FsPL0AP42FtxWNpyKm-HSK49kPCFafT0t-yn5Mjj40vNVgSyIjNCo1se1uUt/s400/IMG_2920.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Israd : "Tahun depan kita kasi habis MRU ikut Senaru ye!"<br />(Israd kata, bukan saya kata)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizU0BOli0nVfU9iM8HU0kGoDChHW107C4sQtgJ5mqv8YfcZBiNf_5-qDLbZMlUz-h49HYswcwxKu8q9R2rFTkN9Jk_hr2IwWXk-MKTBdh5hwOJH1pAKoH5pTkjv920kSGpmu_mSsD_p0WT/s1600/IMG_2922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizU0BOli0nVfU9iM8HU0kGoDChHW107C4sQtgJ5mqv8YfcZBiNf_5-qDLbZMlUz-h49HYswcwxKu8q9R2rFTkN9Jk_hr2IwWXk-MKTBdh5hwOJH1pAKoH5pTkjv920kSGpmu_mSsD_p0WT/s400/IMG_2922.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">TMBT and MRU. Next is H100!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrNEBfhOfW0bgLeBnG9oAe2zOA3zZzcoNysEv0_pwZRg42EQ3850YgYVg0bBOFmDvsbclHSOR02lC4ymho-sv9OwsU8AczOkdWmL1pLIwoWb-RobzS9jDGbny86DSvNswnKvl__3FMdpV/s1600/IMG_2930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrNEBfhOfW0bgLeBnG9oAe2zOA3zZzcoNysEv0_pwZRg42EQ3850YgYVg0bBOFmDvsbclHSOR02lC4ymho-sv9OwsU8AczOkdWmL1pLIwoWb-RobzS9jDGbny86DSvNswnKvl__3FMdpV/s400/IMG_2930.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">This
year, my scree section start with an image of RynaRynz doing a half-hearted stationary squat intervals, and the fast boys (Ben, Joll, Wan, Ray and Bud) flying down like a
bunch of floating elves. I love it when a mountain could be comical and throw
some jokes at me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Not
a bad way to start the eggbeater where the 4 of us rallied emotional support to
reach the summit, not without few quick breathers. But we had to keep going as
the extra minute we spent not climbing are the extra more we’d entertain our
mind’s refusal to finish it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Needless
to say, we did arrive at the peak and did the usual things tourists do kicking
themselves silly after such gargantuan effort. Sure it warrants some degree of
jubilation, but this year I was more content to think of 2 things – calculate our
reserve hours and think if it’d be possible to make it back to Senaru (outside
cut-off time, of course), or endure the long slog out through Sembalun. So we
all started talking, and in the midst of it, we fell into a long fitful snooze.
It scared the hell out me last year thinking people would roll off the cliff,
but having done it this year I’d say the chilly temperature and piercing sun combo
was surreal and dreamlike.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Sekarang baru boleh senyum...</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Our
earlier contemplation to do a full course and out via Senaru further dissipated
as we inched closer back to Plawangan Sembalun, that I spent a good hour having
lunch and get everyone prepped up. Needless to say, we were all beat and having
to face a long slow walk out of Sembalun. I know full well the chicken exit is
not even close to be easy – if not equally long and hard! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Make
no mistake about it as this chicken exit involves a 2 hour hike to Pos 2
Sembalun, and a further 2 hours to the nearest civilization, whereupon some
mutual agreement with our fellow comrades, pay for a cold, long hours
sandwiched between our collective stench on a pickup truck. Those long hours
spent on the feet, and you cannot even extend your feet in the truck and in
constant verge to get a massive cramp is not a pretty thought, but that is the
chicken exit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Worth
to note, thankfully that this year we grazed upon Abang Rashid of Karat Group
who took us deep into the woods and out to safety, but still with all the hikes.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">And
just like that, my 2015 MRU adventure ended. The fleeting landscape we were put
to go through has not hampered my spirit at all – as the RD has upped his game
to provide marked improvement in this year’s edition. Most notably would be the
money the team could have saved on Pocari Sweats is substituted with ample plain
hydration at all water stations and fuel (chocolate muffins, lime and kuih
lepat at WS4 and WS6) and efficient crew manning the dropbag section. But hopeful
2016 runners would want to stock their own fuel plan as that seems to have gone
minimalistic this year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">As
we settled into the comfort of our rented rooms and warm meals afterwards, the
finish line stories, no matter how it ended for us, are chock full of tales of
success, redemption, and in my case, defeat. At least in the case of the
finisher’s tee. With 3K runs my new LSD in the past months, I would selflessly
commend myself for being able to go through it all with such stoicism and confidence
knowing that I could have finished it. Who knows – perhaps if I pass my professional papers this
year, I’d finally have time to actually put quality trainings in for MRU 2016,
eh… TMI? Oh… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">But
the ultra running’s mortal community, not to be compared with the top crème of
professionals and heavily sponsored runners, has always felt like a tightly
knit circle of friends. As what Brendan ‘The SolarWeasel’ puts it (of H100), “an
infectious experience that draws together talent, encouragement, and curiosity,
leaving behind inspiration, gratitude, and new bonds of friendship”. The same blanket
theory seems applicable in all ultra events in my little perspective.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 107%;">Overall, even the Rinjani National Park is presumably mismanaged as evident in ridiculous amount of lack of cleanliness/hygiene driven by mass tourism, nonetheless the RD and his crew are kind and accommodating with the route well-staffed and every
turn of the event is a true Lombok’s hospitality. I left Senaru with my heart
content. I also left Senaru with no added point contributed for 2017 UTMB
qualifying but that’s ok. I am still on track for UTMB 2020 to mark my 45<sup>th</sup>
year which would be enough time to get my bank account sorted.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_nLacI7Ar1nmEfVHvMwzzf5mdgKUV0y_XjsxIdV5h_D5o4lNMmulhyphenhyphendbqMrMs0RqkVnzePOO3vqOXwZXLlF8gZsMQFdIlIhw2gHFVDDsygRl9gZjB_ODe9NLJkJtQ6oFgDANzvgcG1CjL/s1600/11709627_1142470325779728_3345031888477627127_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_nLacI7Ar1nmEfVHvMwzzf5mdgKUV0y_XjsxIdV5h_D5o4lNMmulhyphenhyphendbqMrMs0RqkVnzePOO3vqOXwZXLlF8gZsMQFdIlIhw2gHFVDDsygRl9gZjB_ODe9NLJkJtQ6oFgDANzvgcG1CjL/s640/11709627_1142470325779728_3345031888477627127_n.jpg" width="426" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Ray : "I'll be back, MRU 2016!"<br />(Ray kata ye, bukan saya)</span></td></tr>
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iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-7091077008491755662015-06-01T19:46:00.001-07:002015-06-01T19:46:04.397-07:00TNF100 Australia 2015<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I
realize that it is becoming incredibly apparent that I am battling an early
mid-life crisis syndrome this year. I mean, no thanks to the booming trail
running events in local scene and reachable countries – what the hell? But
there are many (ehem!) older friends who are successfully adapting not to
mention excel while flying through this stage of life. To most of them, it’s
the age of becoming, realizing their true potential, and purpose in life, so on
and so forth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I
am just at the doorstep, but I think I’ll have all the trouble shedding off my
excess weight as the metabolism rate drops like the quality of running medals
these days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Well,
good thing I am battling this unfathomable crisis as a lazy recreational
runner. I sometimes wonder how does a hardcore prostitute come up with a
midlife crisis resolution… what an interesting thought!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">First
of, <i>Alhamdulillah, syukur</i>! – I am
grateful in the turn of event that allows me to steal an opportunity to make
complete bonkers of myself, and thanking my other half so I could improve my Blue
Miles loyalty collection.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">OK,
pleasantries done, let’s talk business.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">TNF
Australia – I remember daydreaming about this stage of TNF so far back when running
events still charges RM10 for a 10K running event, and registrations are still
done walk-in at Wisma OCM. So long ago when runners haven’t learnt the skills to bitch and bicker on Facebook. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">TNF
seems to hold a special place in me since I started running TNF Singapore back
in 2009 with MacamBagus’ partner Ian Yusof, then with Kash and Azam.
Consequently the following editions as MacamBagus put a strong showing, with
Nik and Kash in tow as we did our first 50k. I certainly miss their company
standing at the starting line that day. Melancholic really. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPGl4Ag3XXJmwQZDmgURU_wLomIXZZoeD3XjFjefPffi3r3LLAOSAV-7TeH1zshUyXziS85P6hDibKqDNaLV2NXY83-tf8OTe5IOsazAtXU0WaWxKBo4sxT0fuMYpnP2XnscXujpPzy0s/s1600/7424_158885027636_585307636_2755189_643237_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPGl4Ag3XXJmwQZDmgURU_wLomIXZZoeD3XjFjefPffi3r3LLAOSAV-7TeH1zshUyXziS85P6hDibKqDNaLV2NXY83-tf8OTe5IOsazAtXU0WaWxKBo4sxT0fuMYpnP2XnscXujpPzy0s/s640/7424_158885027636_585307636_2755189_643237_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where it all started - 2009</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcA-ZRfJXaYXNNO5cjPpzi3kX1k_EAbq8xh9NPVwU_5YIe_epMT_TnwTs5t1pTLD_MylLk8AIyvpy5_NxNIQsAy_Xlcnh9eEuH6H0lPYKOn2tnwLR41oxikCE159egm8Vgq_KxQWQbwQKm/s1600/IMG_1912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcA-ZRfJXaYXNNO5cjPpzi3kX1k_EAbq8xh9NPVwU_5YIe_epMT_TnwTs5t1pTLD_MylLk8AIyvpy5_NxNIQsAy_Xlcnh9eEuH6H0lPYKOn2tnwLR41oxikCE159egm8Vgq_KxQWQbwQKm/s640/IMG_1912.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this is what it is</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Pre-Race</span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Travelling
from Sydney Central Station takes no hard effort like when required to clean my
Trek, especially with super-efficient intercity trains at an hour’s intervals, and
the overall journey that takes through beautiful countryside of about 30
minutes. Conveniently, the Opal card is a prepaid travel card that charges a
maximum amount of AUD$15/day regardless of your fees for the day or amount of
travels with buses, trains and ferries. This was especially cheap as we came
from the Cockatoo Island via ferry, and connecting trains.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">We
stayed at Katoomba Metropole, which is just across the Katoomba train station.
Location is good as it’s close to the pick-up point at Carrington Hotel
literally a minute away if you run at a 4min/hr pace, and close to all the shops.
Other great option would be YHA Katoomba, which is across the road from the
pick-up point at Palais Royale, but further down the road. But really, anywhere
is within walking distance, so do not let the sketchy maps online fools you. It
was a decision much helpful for us when pulling 3 bursting luggage from the
train station.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">In
terms of the town itself, Katoomba has a good collection of outdoor stores if
you need to get few last minute gears. There’s Target, Coles and an array of
pubs if you fancy. Along the street there is one halal kebab store, which for a
good AUD$9, a kebab the size of a bazooka and feeds 3 people. Be sure to ask
for hot sauce and pickled chillis for extra kick to ensure comprehensive bowel
detox the next day. But the shops (except for Coles) close early on normal
days. Katoomba is dead after 18:00 hours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Upon
arrival in Katoomba and checking-in, we headed to KCC Katoomba for registration
at the event expo, and the scene was, err… to put it diplomatically, very festive.
In the hall, the progression (not necessarily in this particular order) shall be;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">
</div>
<ol>
<li><span style="line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">confirm
our bib number on the runners’ list on ‘The Wall’ after you perform a short
treasure hunt. This differs from a newbie and a seasoned runner</span></span></li>
<li><span style="line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">proceed
to designated registration counters according to the bib numbers, collect the
bib. The counters are mostly very efficient – I collected my bib within a
minute before I even managed a pep talk with the volunteer</span></span></li>
<li><span style="line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">line
up to collect the race tee (or much like scramble) - the tees are in European
size so err on a smaller size. Runners are able to strip open and test the size
in full view of others. I have successfully added another red dri-fit tee in my
collection</span></span></li>
<li><span style="line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">it’s
a sort-of-a-expo, so wander around aimlessly at the makeshift TNF booth, Tarawera booth (and personally meet the RD, Paul Charteris) etc if you want to
ask him if it would be ok to bandit his race</span></span></li>
<li><span style="line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">deposit
dropbag for CP3, CP4 and CP5 (this is optional either for all CPs depending on
your needs) into the designated trucks outside the hall. Prepare your own duct
tape and marker. No technology here – write your own number to each designated
CPs. No ‘Fragile’ stickers will be entertained</span></span></li>
</ol>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFTvTMCgUE3aYH9eeKhU8h9MX1D9tvA2r6Vbj8hthhu1f8EgsPtfzPhIUfBStL4PKGROD1sAWS7_qVPAkPizosgxckaMA7uA1GCAv-zbf10awWQVdADJT9aL5wK_HHFCu7mKSpUs8PdV4/s1600/IMG_1907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFTvTMCgUE3aYH9eeKhU8h9MX1D9tvA2r6Vbj8hthhu1f8EgsPtfzPhIUfBStL4PKGROD1sAWS7_qVPAkPizosgxckaMA7uA1GCAv-zbf10awWQVdADJT9aL5wK_HHFCu7mKSpUs8PdV4/s640/IMG_1907.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Observe the Turkey Bags</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4FmZkz74_bPAyPYGKQxRNWU4lUhe1qN7HhzzUfJzzd12cICtbZiXO3HE_IkHtZ0vE2wrDShVa9J56fOpU6syxIi4Bhwhd-3eqUAFo9jNjuvlO1BuALz54QkN_9ifdK2vw1IR1JH0OfQXS/s1600/IMG_1908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4FmZkz74_bPAyPYGKQxRNWU4lUhe1qN7HhzzUfJzzd12cICtbZiXO3HE_IkHtZ0vE2wrDShVa9J56fOpU6syxIi4Bhwhd-3eqUAFo9jNjuvlO1BuALz54QkN_9ifdK2vw1IR1JH0OfQXS/s640/IMG_1908.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1crHTMuLY6v6msL4hUL3UfPguRFCV04GFFn2YG4Z-sXwWX6xfGBh0e4dunHsB2J1IVbN7fBo7AltDGY1x9B6qQn5_URmGD27UvuyBvtOB-VGdIkJSYOGjdkyjnPsvWjKTTMMLkChhKol/s1600/IMG_1911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1crHTMuLY6v6msL4hUL3UfPguRFCV04GFFn2YG4Z-sXwWX6xfGBh0e4dunHsB2J1IVbN7fBo7AltDGY1x9B6qQn5_URmGD27UvuyBvtOB-VGdIkJSYOGjdkyjnPsvWjKTTMMLkChhKol/s640/IMG_1911.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Note :</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.75in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">a)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">RD
advised us to deposit the fleece jacket and waterproof pants at CP4<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.75in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">b)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Half
the runners seemed to have packed roast turkeys in their Wooly’s dropbags (yes,
all 3 of them), but rest assured that all CPs are well-stocked. I just had the
mandatory items as (a), some chocolates and a fresh pair of socks and shoes,
just in case<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt 0.75in; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">c)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Of
course I have made a pre-Mandatory Gear check at TNF store in Sydney which saves
some panic anxiety attack<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I
signed up for the buffet dinner out of curiosity, and fear that I’d not fuel
well, but for Muslims going for the 2016 chapter, you could easily opt this out
as the available selection is only the vegetarian pasta, garlic bread and
salad. For AUD$29, you could have 3 giant kebabs in town and some. Nonetheless,
the dinner is pre-assigned, so check on the allotted time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Also,
I read somewhere that carbo-loading on the race eve alone is quite pointless as
the process should take the whole week prior, and so far it was true to my
regime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJTAFmvotV0wLXC3-O2vExY2Mt4S7ZLosAuCkVaq47gzQYH1P0gAGV8o0W3lan6wepQQ17A2bVN8vpk6uoQi6fkWTDGbBPqs2y37ZTEWebhUgQw3cGj0Rkrlw4UJYi7whl0iyEwLEzAYS/s1600/IMG_1913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDJTAFmvotV0wLXC3-O2vExY2Mt4S7ZLosAuCkVaq47gzQYH1P0gAGV8o0W3lan6wepQQ17A2bVN8vpk6uoQi6fkWTDGbBPqs2y37ZTEWebhUgQw3cGj0Rkrlw4UJYi7whl0iyEwLEzAYS/s640/IMG_1913.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraw6k0Tg3P_9g6S-iJeIK0nWFLIg2KAkyGopXtlHQOUy5wLg5GpGzCK6JwdO3HMBfh5FG1O2e4E1svLvbr7QygVIx28RjD-rdrneFw9isD9U3CwYdjzNfp2-eJyfGq0Lb7qtk7vAB24C9/s1600/IMG_1915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraw6k0Tg3P_9g6S-iJeIK0nWFLIg2KAkyGopXtlHQOUy5wLg5GpGzCK6JwdO3HMBfh5FG1O2e4E1svLvbr7QygVIx28RjD-rdrneFw9isD9U3CwYdjzNfp2-eJyfGq0Lb7qtk7vAB24C9/s640/IMG_1915.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For the record - Spaghetti Bolognese, Vegetarian Penne Pasta, Pilaf Rice, Beef Stroganoff</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_bn6NA4GUiQC_zxgGwi2ylE9qHqI4EMtgp2arsBvN4yEhrE-BOGJVKt4D8PkeeKSUjOyTs6ZxMH05EhKRq-jCJCW1anQlQQfD3l4wjJ_WjyfMEkyRVyruBzn7BDXfsoS4AN_wr18KZKsT/s1600/IMG_1916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_bn6NA4GUiQC_zxgGwi2ylE9qHqI4EMtgp2arsBvN4yEhrE-BOGJVKt4D8PkeeKSUjOyTs6ZxMH05EhKRq-jCJCW1anQlQQfD3l4wjJ_WjyfMEkyRVyruBzn7BDXfsoS4AN_wr18KZKsT/s640/IMG_1916.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cold salad spread if you fancy, but really - how much can you gobble?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">After
that, back to the Expo for the race briefing in a packed hall – some basic
information on the gears, how to navigate placing of the bib, etc. Noteworthy
is a light and cheeky speech by the RD, Tom Langdon Smith. He also announced
that the 2016 edition would be a grand re-branding exercise where the 5-days
event will take place. TNF Australia will then be known as Ultra Trail
Australia, in line with UTMB, UTMF, UTK and the rest – already it seems that
the future is going to be awesome! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj71oh-SG0xeKBy58zEsYY4qNmLW18AscSIjPOHPXOvDhvDoRMa8G2tRqVK0qFTQqKwvGmuFE8zq8Ge5FjrUqJGQ1Wc5PhGEU_HmADMWYvdB1lPKC8b393U38EjGCV2Y8eCSyy8leJK26tj/s1600/IMG_1917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj71oh-SG0xeKBy58zEsYY4qNmLW18AscSIjPOHPXOvDhvDoRMa8G2tRqVK0qFTQqKwvGmuFE8zq8Ge5FjrUqJGQ1Wc5PhGEU_HmADMWYvdB1lPKC8b393U38EjGCV2Y8eCSyy8leJK26tj/s640/IMG_1917.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I
spent the next 3 hours packing, unpacking, re-packing etc, just to make sure
all the gears are in place, worrying about the little things just short of
color coordinating what I was going to wear on race day. For the record, what I
had on me in my pack are;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> 2litres
of hydration – pre-mixed Gatorade (Mixed Berry)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Lightweight
Kathmandu thermal pants</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Super
light Inov-8 long-sleeved thermal base layer</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Inov-8
Stormshell HV</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Reflective
vest (Australian standard, no less)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Fleece
gloves, a beanie</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Silva
headlight, fresh supplies of batteries, and a back-up torch light</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Emergency
space blanket, compression bandage (these are the things I wish I do not have
the space and time to put into practice)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Blister
kit, of which I have perfected over the years which includes 3M plaster, bandages, alcohol/antiseptic swab, wet tissues, some dry tissues, nail clipper)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Miscellaneous
items, which includes the waterproof/windproof safety matches and firelighter
block (provided by the Organiser) as we have the opportunity to re-live the Flinstones days</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Junk
food, which of course include my all-time favourites – jellies, asambois, Mars and nuts. There’s nothing to be proud of here, but I do realize they do not
contribute to protein and carbs intake required for the long run</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw54o0cbGtV2yWVsnLUGzfzWI-sAE50R6EPdfvTm3jwlTA1ykuS9g1Q95lbVX11u6Ntk3UTgIAidG7k4NwzqBedjxybL5BdSNtpFAFfcdHsdD8ktYbDJfVMcEnrWwg0OyxvfC4oNYGTd0S/s1600/IMG_1906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw54o0cbGtV2yWVsnLUGzfzWI-sAE50R6EPdfvTm3jwlTA1ykuS9g1Q95lbVX11u6Ntk3UTgIAidG7k4NwzqBedjxybL5BdSNtpFAFfcdHsdD8ktYbDJfVMcEnrWwg0OyxvfC4oNYGTd0S/s640/IMG_1906.JPG" width="640" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">As
you can see, those weights are clearly not heavy enough to sculp my upper back,
and not also creating enough sway resistance to hold my core intact – probably
contributing to my 1-pack abs. Nonetheless, I tried to invest into some
lightweight materials. Having said that, hydration reserve in my bladder
remained intact most of the time, given the aptly positioned CPs and water
stations. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><b><i>The race itself</i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I
was flustered to stand among strangers in a strange continent thinking about
unnecessary little things to fill my head off the long race, like when do I
need to go to the toilet again, or what happens if I need to crap in the woods?
But bigger issue would be beating hypothermia in the mountains is actually
quite scary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Given
my unrelenting left ankle problem (and of course mostly due to my poor showing
and non-improved ultra timing), I figure starting from the very back is
somewhat conservative but crucial to ensure that I actually finish the race
injury-free. But at the starting line it was not short of premature celebratory
mood, despite being the slowest of all groups. We were the extreme underdogs
who’d take selfies every 2 minutes along the course, talks all the way from
start to finish, and treats all CPs like a picnic. I swear those guys with
turkey drop bags I saw the night before were in this group. I’m almost certain
there were picnic mats and packs of beer in those cooler bags!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynbdov2g3tHzFhzqu9Ad4x_fcmC806elvumXzpVE3-d8psQ_oqtzMmhaCLfXBVat41Tye0Z_AAxi8LLWXsUwHQEjW20oZjWFPWw2fQhUUHyhrWGgd7K36RN3apdJB0coZU-6fKJpfdGDp/s1600/IMG_1925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynbdov2g3tHzFhzqu9Ad4x_fcmC806elvumXzpVE3-d8psQ_oqtzMmhaCLfXBVat41Tye0Z_AAxi8LLWXsUwHQEjW20oZjWFPWw2fQhUUHyhrWGgd7K36RN3apdJB0coZU-6fKJpfdGDp/s400/IMG_1925.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Boleh lah senyum lagi... Azmil - fresh from KoBL</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Although
the past few days prior to the event weather was unpredictable, I gambled by
having my shorts on, my 2013 XTerra tee and a featherlight Inov-8 Windshell HZ
on that morning, and the Inov-8 Trailroc 255 (despite its poor show at Kemensah
Krazy, I have no other credible pair as the other shoes is not weathered
enough), accompanied by the buff. So that was enough for me, as the temperature
started around 16degrees at the start and quickly warmed up as we scaled the
first hills after the start.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">The
course description can be viewed at </span><a href="http://www.thenorthface100.com.au/race-info/100km/the-course"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">http://www.thenorthface100.com.au/race-info/100km/the-course</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">, so
I’ll save this blogspace from narrating the obvious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">The
race started, and for our group 6, we headed out close to 7.00 a.m. for an
overall target to finish within 24 hours. Basically the first 4km was run on
the road as we headed to Narrow Neck Road, and turned back to Scenic World,
before disappearing into the trails. Immediately after Scenic World, the road
section rolls with our emotion as Azmil and I caught up with many old dramas
from Bolehland. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">From
there, it was basically downhills via Furber Steps passing several ancient
waterfalls, and soon the glorious windows to the Blue Mountains eased up. But
really, there was not much time to stop and look around as the train moves
forward, and tones of runners are chugging behind. The sections are mostly
single tracks, and being civilized runners that we are, most runners would wait
patiently before being cordially invited by the front runner if overtaking is
required. Well, I said most runners…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">After
the Landslide, it was a repetitive trails and switchbacks before we arrive at
CP1 (10.5km – Narrow Neck). A quick pitstop as my supplies were still intact,
but for record, there were abundant supplies of jellies, gels, bananas and
isotonics.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJJsJH7tsengNSmLCkt5sAygjl6hXhO2N3acCd9RIAcj-L_g01XKpMLTJ9qo_LgDg3kOIw9MvL4XN-l_YVlwNw6mm3yHDCgQ3b_aRo4NS-2xilKqSw3d1WpECTFfxNsDux1KeD7OJdB0Sq/s1600/IMG_1927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJJsJH7tsengNSmLCkt5sAygjl6hXhO2N3acCd9RIAcj-L_g01XKpMLTJ9qo_LgDg3kOIw9MvL4XN-l_YVlwNw6mm3yHDCgQ3b_aRo4NS-2xilKqSw3d1WpECTFfxNsDux1KeD7OJdB0Sq/s640/IMG_1927.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Headed
out fairly quickly as we are looking forward to the highlight of the Tarros
Ladders. Still moving with Azmil and Hana, we passed the beautiful section
cross fire tracks over a place marked as Mount Debert in the Course
Description, that cuts through the expanse of the Blue Mountains. Of course, in
that early stage of the race, I’d call that stretch as the Gum Tree Stretch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">But
somewhat, it was the same feeling when coming up the ridges of TMBT just off
the kink into Miki Camp that it was a real privilege to access some of the most
remote areas through ultra running. The trail felt hard below my soles as we
snakes around the tracks to cover over 21km of trails but it was a fun, mostly
rolling runnable part of the course, so it was done in no real drama. By the
time I reached CP2 (31km – Dunphys Camp), Azmil was no longer behind me. Here
they served chips, jellies, gels, oranges, melons, bananas, isotonics. A quick
potty break and forever putting the soles of Trailroc back in place, I was off
on Leg 3, where a good 8km would be run on private land. This is quite an
uneventful section I occupied my time dodging the cow’s dung while doing math
calculations in my head, before we arrived at the enormous climb that of
Ironpot Mountain, or other wise called ‘Whatthehell Hill’, similar to Hill 365
in TNF Singapore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">This
climb is not as heartbreaking as Nuang climbs but I cursed myself for leaving
the poles behind. It was enough to clench your butts off and burning those
quads. But once we reach the top, running along the Ironpot Ridge is one of the
most memorable experience I had for the race. Some guys were playing the
didgeridoo at the cliff – not exactly the thumping beat of Armin van Buuren to
my liking but it took away the nagging feeling of the slipping soles of my
Trailroc for a bit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">It
was quick at the ridge, and soon enough comes the fast and furious downhill of Tinpot
Hill, and I deliberately hopped along kicking sand and stormed down for kicks.
It was one of the fun bits of the race where you’d squeal like a horse (what?),
coupled with many creek crossings. It I had been deliriously crazy under the
scorching sun as experienced in Kemensah, I’d jump into them right away but
given the mild temperature we experienced that day, I tiptoed to ensure the
shoes are dry the longest possible time. Then came along another dreadful
climbs and long solitary Megalong Valley Road (it was mega, and long, how apt)
where I finally picked up a stick to support my upper body in the long stretch.
This is a stretch of dusty dirt road open to traffic, accessible to the CP for
all support crews.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">The
spirit is lifted when approaching the final kilometer to CP3 (46km – Six Foot
Track) as I joined a couple of other anxious runners racing against time for
hot food. It was way pass lunch time, and it was godsent that they served hot
noodles there (albeit served with a plastic knife). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Coming
out of CP3, I knew a meager 11K coming into Katoomba Aquatic Centre was all I
need to come to my stash of fresh socks at CP4. What I failed to see is the
350m elevation gain pass Nellies Glen is one nasty climb! In my head was that I
have passed the halfway mark and would reach CP4 well before sundown. Boy that
was wrong in all alveolus clusters of my body. But really, looking back now, I
was just exaggerating as the elevation gain is not THAT punishing. I mean,
really… I was hallway up the stairs when I realized that I’d never make it in
sub-20. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">It
is also noteworthy to share that upon reaching the peak of this climb, the
rolling sections are actually a joy to run on after the slow momentum. We were
then again atop of the cliff headed back to Katoomba when the sun-kissed
landscape is quite postcard-perfect. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhplILIZa1X5GlgNRr672fqXrj5ibUzsymBrbDDXa5AHokxPdjl5pkbC5ODQqPPB-52od-SXctAdDpRVPNwQKwfaPYWx9Xvbx9Yeo6MAargj0BGTF5G4l629uY583FratknV1z5AyPhL1Ke/s1600/IMG_1962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhplILIZa1X5GlgNRr672fqXrj5ibUzsymBrbDDXa5AHokxPdjl5pkbC5ODQqPPB-52od-SXctAdDpRVPNwQKwfaPYWx9Xvbx9Yeo6MAargj0BGTF5G4l629uY583FratknV1z5AyPhL1Ke/s640/IMG_1962.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKOzS4laoH18Hc2ttWekg4EMXEPkMK-NvlYGlP4jy3aFvbERDUmuRbUI-2N89kHPJgwLj9WanWS4B8T1DZ-ihKWOuwuOUEnQAFB_I215HBBZLdmRPB65J0iqf6Ruj38MTBZYZM9Cinapd/s1600/IMG_1964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKOzS4laoH18Hc2ttWekg4EMXEPkMK-NvlYGlP4jy3aFvbERDUmuRbUI-2N89kHPJgwLj9WanWS4B8T1DZ-ihKWOuwuOUEnQAFB_I215HBBZLdmRPB65J0iqf6Ruj38MTBZYZM9Cinapd/s640/IMG_1964.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-n3NtS9D_A2TPGcERHiaX5KvJSuLL8sZspDx2gb0BgH_BO1ZgWijJWh97qzFxLtVLALU1W4Z2b5rq8MqDIM43BUixiao3ePh07tVYfiffGRf5SJ6aJqoTdQ3cDTEHwuwJ1d5XStj5tBEF/s1600/IMG_1967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-n3NtS9D_A2TPGcERHiaX5KvJSuLL8sZspDx2gb0BgH_BO1ZgWijJWh97qzFxLtVLALU1W4Z2b5rq8MqDIM43BUixiao3ePh07tVYfiffGRf5SJ6aJqoTdQ3cDTEHwuwJ1d5XStj5tBEF/s640/IMG_1967.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turkey Bags sorted in number groups, close to the floor for turkey chill factor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztcfMz-SQQ86fEb7DwNiOMbBIMH0kwU5WtlWpsTo0Fzl_wonEVaJu0oax6EWOKa4EC9YYHxIgtVIwGXuQEl9MW9a5s-E8xe-Sqr9W-VoeeiS0qftiPnmL9YV8Q3tU6XAYrgwtjkMSjnD7/s1600/IMG_1966.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztcfMz-SQQ86fEb7DwNiOMbBIMH0kwU5WtlWpsTo0Fzl_wonEVaJu0oax6EWOKa4EC9YYHxIgtVIwGXuQEl9MW9a5s-E8xe-Sqr9W-VoeeiS0qftiPnmL9YV8Q3tU6XAYrgwtjkMSjnD7/s640/IMG_1966.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5glYITFFoymnMi4l_WBKBTQVfDZNRawLRrRXvAMrFfiQpERgEMtCd0u3-oUYRkLAimZK3YKfC_ReeiuimnAQnQXV3EsYRHesiRPKWlRy2iWIb8AFQu6Sp69VZJIURzbNdt_HyioZUmU_y/s1600/IMG_1965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5glYITFFoymnMi4l_WBKBTQVfDZNRawLRrRXvAMrFfiQpERgEMtCd0u3-oUYRkLAimZK3YKfC_ReeiuimnAQnQXV3EsYRHesiRPKWlRy2iWIb8AFQu6Sp69VZJIURzbNdt_HyioZUmU_y/s640/IMG_1965.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Coming
into CP4 (57.0km – Katoomba Aquatic Centre) after a short section of road
through Katoomba neighbourhood, the sports hall was buzzing with all sorts of
acrobats in the hall, and all sorts of swimming flips on the other hall. I
quickly dropped the pack, retrieve my dropbag, and head to the changing room
with a fresh pair of thermal pants, long-sleeved thermal base layer, new tee
and socks. The hall is well-equipped with changing rooms, toilets and some
privacy for solat. The food was abundant as I headed for some warm soup,
chippers and buns. I imagine it would be great to have a plate of steaming hot
rice with stir-fried tofu and chicken, and a can of ice-cold Coke – but it is
uncommon for me to hallucinate in the middle of the endurance run.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">It
was here I regrouped with Syed, Iziddin, Hana and Ewegene, and while getting
everyone ready allows us all some time to rest and stretch. And by the time we
got out, it was already dark and I assume I spent too long in the transition
eating too much buns and hot soup.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">We
spent the next hour progressing towards Echo Point – a fairly flat, wet stretch
as temperature continues to drop. Apparently we went under the Scenic Skyway
cables and past Cliff View lookout – a miss since it was pitch black. I reckon
runners in Start Group 1-4 would enjoy this view much earlier in the race. The
track continues to pass many scenic vistas had we pass it during the day but I
was mostly consumed to put a step ahead at a time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">In
the course description, this stretch you’ll read a crazy detailed turn-by-turn
info that will make you palpitate just by looking at the text. I gather this
section is heavily accessible by foot traffic, and there are lots of turns
which may get you lost eventually.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">But
as we started a mini climb towards Leura Cascades, I left the resting pack in
dire effort to keep the muscle warm, and I proceeded to catch the roving train
ahead. We quickly arrived at 66K’s water point, and a quick calculation in my
head confirms that I might even miss the 24-hour target no matter how fast I
move forward. It was quite heartbreaking, but it is what it is. This Leg 5 is
the slowest, toughest and second longest distance of the race with trails along
the single tracks, roads, private land, and grass-patch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Needless
to say, I reached CP5 with Carol – a runner I spent on-off zapping with each
other for the previous 10K. It was a welcomed rivalry as I am still freaked to
be running on my own in pitch black, let alone unfamiliar territory. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">CP5
(78km – Queen Victoria Hospital) is another lively pitstop of the race. But the
food is now somewhat an eyesore to me. Requested a cup of hot noodles, sans the
noodles, and chomped on some lollies. Knowing the dark stretch of the night, I
asked for coffee, but the caffeine mix was too mild. Lesson learnt - I should
have refilled the coffee into my bottles for reserve, or at least a premixed
coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">But,
a quick change of dressing to couple of hotspots, I was off CP5. I could see
the light at the end of the tunnel, but mind you the tunnel is still a killer
22km to go. Immediately the trail came about the dirt road which descends
beyond Kedumba Pass en-route to Jamison Creek. Man, those were some killer
descends much like TMBT’s CP8’s Keranaan Village. My calves and quads were
scorching and I was on the verge of cramping, and I can’t stop but wonder had I
put a compression pants on – would it help? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">It
was now way past midnight when we hauled up at the Aid Station (91km) and I was
delirious and sleepwalking most of the times. The conversation with Carol has
long been silent as both of us battled our inner demons. Aptly enough as we
entered Leura Forest, I was walking dangerously close to the ravines half
awake, sometimes stopping to doze off. It became apparent that my lack of sleep
the previous night was deadly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">But
as the trails slipped by me, we finally arrived at the foot of Furber Steps for
what seemingly a short dash to the finish. Carol literally snapped me out of my
slumber as I slumped to sleep at the steps, and together we climbed the
treacherous, yet I would imagine a scenic climb nonetheless (a total of 860
steps by the way, with 200m elevation gain – although fairs quite badly against
2053 steps to reach the top of KL Tower), steps that I recalled calling a
‘Fucking Furber’, and to the top of the cliffs, and straight into Scenic World,
and to the finish line, and welcomed by a modest roar from the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">It
was 05:00 hours, and we were handed the unceremonious UTWT stamp (Oh crap, now
I have to collect all the UTWT stamps for crying out loud!) Picked up the
Finish Bag, along with my drop bag, and it was time for cold melons and hot
soup. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I
risk being bombarded in FB for being a nitpicking incompetent runner (not to
mention unfit) when saying this, but I am a little disappointed at the
condition we came back to. Sandwiches would help. Coke would definitely be
great. Generally, the reward at the end surely lacks the festive mood what TNF
Singapore offered, despite TNF Australia being more distinguished. I know, I
know – this is just primarily my personal preference on choice of food. But I
would imagine a warm towel would help to freshen up from the long cold night, a
finisher tee would be a nice token, complimentary medals would have been great
for runners to bite and post in their FB/IG (not me – I never do such things).
O wait, perhaps it was simply because I came in so late the party has moved on.
Or is it that all Ultras do not have a medal system? Sorry, I am still green…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Not
particularly glorious, I hopped on the free bus, and headed back to the hotel
and in similar manner post Mount Rinjani Ultra, I slept with all the dirt and
stink that drove my wife out of the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">So
there you go, just an insight of what TNF Australia from a perspective of an
Ultra beginner. Although looking back, I might have taken things waaaaayy to
easily, and not running where I was supposed to. Even a sub-20 hour mark is
actually very manageable. Perhaps a 2016 comeback? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">For
record, some of the apparent (some, foolishly enough – repetitive because I am
not that kind to read my blog entries before races. I am just the kind to
repeat the mistakes over and over again) mistakes are;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Not getting
enough rest. We have had a tight schedule in Sydney being good tourists hopping
from one souvenir shop to another, and despite a quiet night glamping in
Cockatoo, we arrived a little tired in Katoomba still flustered about registration,
expo, dinner and other million things we thought important at the time. I’d highly
recommend to arrive in Katoomba on Thursday prior, rest, walk around and sort all
your drama.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Not
eating enough. Fair – we were in a foreign land and restricted to selected
food. I was solely on multigrain loaf and nutella the entire week, with
occasional fries I skimped off my wife’s Filet o’Fish. I have no cure for this
except bringing my own pots and pasta sauce (by that, I meant sardines and
chillies and tonnes of black pepper) but Australia is special that way to stop
you at the airport, and confiscate my stash of frozen dinners. I think the next
time I do this will be with my rice cooker and canned sardines.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Not
bringing my poles – well this is a no brainer since I invested on the
Z-freaking-poles. Silly mistake!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Not
packing the right food. Even though the CPs are packed with food, I should have
stashed ‘my’ food. I said this in previous entries so this is mind-boggling
that I keep on not doing it. What on earth is wrong with me? Let’s see – peanut
butter sandwiches, BigMacs, Coke, sausages… o crap! Now I know why those guys
packed in whole turkeys in their dropbags!</span></li>
</ol>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">There
are also some areas, which seem to roll well;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Shoes
– 1.5 size bigger shoes. I need to stress here that a pair of size 14 trail
shoes doesn’t come easy. No blister, no pain. Hopefully black toes will be an
urban legend</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Hydration
strategy, which is simply drinking to thirst kept any nasty pains at bay. And
the pre-mixed Mixed Berry flavor pars well with asamboi water. Next experiment
is to add chia seed</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;">Not
letting negative thoughts on whatever things on the trails to mess with my
head, and enjoy the run has allowed me to stop kicking myself in the butts on
tackling punishing and monotonous trails. No point fighting the inevitable.
Free mind, free… err, feet?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%; text-indent: -0.25in;">RPM
classes have so far helped to strengthen my legs, so that’ll stay for a while.
The ‘Margie Mantra’ – ‘Don’t stop spinning until the party ends’ sometimes
helped to push me through some relentless sections.</span></li>
</ol>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Now
that I have claimed my Zero Week gloriously putting back the weight I lost
walking vigorously around the parts of Australia we visited, and sitting
comfortably in my sitting room after a hearty dinner, I looked back into the
days I spent up the Blue Mountains. As much as I loathe the sometime monotonous
trails, I can say now that it was not at all bad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Really,
not a bad experience at all. You just have to be there with the right frame of mind
and stop beating around the bush. I’ll try very hard to remember that the next
time I run in a ridiculously expensive race in foreign countries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Good
luck to all running in UTA 2016. Registration starts<a href="https://draft.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>
November 2015.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-15036222088287587732015-03-16T19:43:00.003-07:002015-03-16T19:46:03.407-07:00Mount Rinjani Ultra 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14.2666664123535px; text-align: justify;">The hype is back, and with the Early Bird registration ended last couple of weeks, I saw a post on their FB page that Malaysians turned up as the biggest international crowd in MRU 2015. And as I did not post anything after the race in 2014, let me share few supporting notes for aspiring participants who'd care to read.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I
shop for many things for myself based on vanity these days – the best looking
stuff I could afford. And that has put me enough trouble when I registered for
the Mount Rinjani Ultra 2014. Coaxed by enticing mountain views, and glistening
calves of the poster boys in the ads, I signed up, and convinced my wife that
we fly the kids for our annual holidays in Lombok.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">And
just like that, we were on our way to Lombok on AirAsia. The plan was simple – I’d
run up Rinjani, and the family would chill in Senggigi. Reunite post race, and
swim till the heart’s content, and sleep all day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">On
the fateful day, with very little homework and limited internet coverage about
a-lot-of-things that Senaru is, the taxi driver pulled over at Rinjani Lodge
(Senaru) where the action was after an hour of driving from Senggigi. It was
close to 1:00 p.m., and I had 20 minutes to make it to the bag drop line. I
registered, collected the kits, and went to drop my bag. A recycled paper and some duct tapes 2 minutes later, a
marker to jot my bib number, and it’s done. But word of caution – the drop bag
counter closes at 13:00 hours on Friday, and many late runners had to run without
their drop bag waiting at Plawangan Sembalun. I wouldn’t want to arrive there
without my fresh supply of asam boi!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">The
lodge is filled with concoction of what seemed like hundreds of lean runners,
all tanned and bold and ready to rumble. If you grew up with little
self-confidence like me, that is already an intimidating moment. No expo
whatsoever, but be prepared to bargain some hot stuff off a carboot alongside
the main road if you savvy it.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2zl1WxNn57sNBx0621oAu6U5OxwkF12RAmJ6-WaFaSrrHLWXElAHRq3kgE1NXkGSpkoQT1Vb5lw6ho5q2foIkPrueMGVyIC7JZIVP5i4mKrkVxm04OCVSHhfQxuAaDskcKKRVQJhJKHl/s1600/IMG_5825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2zl1WxNn57sNBx0621oAu6U5OxwkF12RAmJ6-WaFaSrrHLWXElAHRq3kgE1NXkGSpkoQT1Vb5lw6ho5q2foIkPrueMGVyIC7JZIVP5i4mKrkVxm04OCVSHhfQxuAaDskcKKRVQJhJKHl/s1600/IMG_5825.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31vYDky3W1Ajwl8oYqUbA75MKjQgBicTGBLSXHtOheTRu7d7Z7VscCYkOCLUBO9ybs1BiLHxT5RacX4G3AW8UM1F4Dgj9wVMW4HyHBDsH-Ali4plKlYDLc2vPGlJBrWgx-lvKsas2CwBu/s1600/GOPR1866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31vYDky3W1Ajwl8oYqUbA75MKjQgBicTGBLSXHtOheTRu7d7Z7VscCYkOCLUBO9ybs1BiLHxT5RacX4G3AW8UM1F4Dgj9wVMW4HyHBDsH-Ali4plKlYDLc2vPGlJBrWgx-lvKsas2CwBu/s1600/GOPR1866.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4bttHMFmkmAIvrF3UKCRFm2WeItUfxJjSwHrOoSKHhJbmDbC8phqzR77gPhMKcviw7T5dnlwciGJIdn1FUCrxCPt_b3MPg63O39PxUTLtQVma4VhIq4wcKE9LobYAfq_M5AA37vs3kbfp/s1600/GOPR1869.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4bttHMFmkmAIvrF3UKCRFm2WeItUfxJjSwHrOoSKHhJbmDbC8phqzR77gPhMKcviw7T5dnlwciGJIdn1FUCrxCPt_b3MPg63O39PxUTLtQVma4VhIq4wcKE9LobYAfq_M5AA37vs3kbfp/s1600/GOPR1869.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know for a fact that this bag is not an effective drop bag, because at W4 I was digging for stuff like a treasure chest. So if you are chasing a tight transition time - get an organiser</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Finding
lodging was about winging-it in Senaru. It is close to impossible to find any
credible leads online on a place to stay. But given that I travelled alone, I’d
prepared myself to bunk anywhere like the good-ol’-backpacking-days. As luck
would have it, or what seemed like a brilliant idea, was to rent a tent on top
of the flat roof next to Rinjani Lodge. The perspectives towards the Rinjani
Peak are amazing, without a doubt – with rolling padi fields below the range.
The downside is the bloody place is some 2.5km away from the race start, and
from where the Malaysian contingent was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">But
for RM25/night, it worked well considering I’d only be spending a maximum of 5
hours pre-race sleeping, and expecting to spend another 6 post-race. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQz7gUj9_mMKQIlRDpf6rpP09xGj3hvRsdYe4hqGmHXORR-tWa5oexmPA_PGJWmY47J_3Ez93UrVmhr5pLDi6s-n6_DHDj_WbBOwI_YnXi4hvsXeX4KHM2B2YQhbZTb71m03AHNMJt8sjc/s1600/GOPR1874.MP4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQz7gUj9_mMKQIlRDpf6rpP09xGj3hvRsdYe4hqGmHXORR-tWa5oexmPA_PGJWmY47J_3Ez93UrVmhr5pLDi6s-n6_DHDj_WbBOwI_YnXi4hvsXeX4KHM2B2YQhbZTb71m03AHNMJt8sjc/s1600/GOPR1874.MP4" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Call it a night for a bargain. What you get in the tent - a pillow as hard as a coconut husk, a sleeping bag, and a rubber base to soften the rugged concrete roof. As a bonus - cold windy air at all times, moon light, and 100% humidity</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">After
a lazy afternoon spent in the tent dozing off in full view of the peak, not
worrying of breaking pep talks with others, dinner was forced down – albeit hesitantly
when the body started to freak out of what lies ahead. It between the occasional
Whatsapps messages and Facebook stalking, I managed some poor shuteye and woke
up at 8:00 p.m.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">In
my slumber, I somehow managed to kungfu half a chicken teriyaki out of the
tent, and left with a banana and some bread with Nutella for supper. All pre-arranged gears were also now strewn all over, and
getting them packed again while I had to put the new Silva Trail headlamp to
the test for the first time. Cold front wind crossed over and brought chill in
a quiet night as most runners staying at the lodge were running for the 21K
category, and not up to run yet for the next 6 hours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Alas,
I walked up to the hostel where the Malaysian contingent were, and I swear the
walk to the start line felt like coming down to the caves of Moria with the
sound of thumping beat. The faint sound of drums amplifies by the closing
steps! Or, was it just beats of my freaking heart? Oh ok, it was my heart
crapping the shit out me actually.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmMpHvZ27f7LFh6c82vzpG6JnyAqPa1ZxCbainzTd4-V4D9HFjhppbuzNZvigMpKozwe6QJkMgVKGTUfPaGvbpEPzbn_hrgWyJTn59KSnyW-_NQi4QY58EUjK5pZHzHXrmhXgQUzLa6Pn/s1600/GOPR1883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmMpHvZ27f7LFh6c82vzpG6JnyAqPa1ZxCbainzTd4-V4D9HFjhppbuzNZvigMpKozwe6QJkMgVKGTUfPaGvbpEPzbn_hrgWyJTn59KSnyW-_NQi4QY58EUjK5pZHzHXrmhXgQUzLa6Pn/s1600/GOPR1883.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">At
the stroke of midnight, the gun went off, and hurled out hundreds of gungho runners
like chicken escaped from the butcher house. The first stretch is through the
Kampung Senaru, but before long, we arrived at the gate of Senaru to mark the
start of the trails. What you see is dancing headlamps bouncing off the dense
vegetation by the side. As I start from waaaaay back, I was presented by a
trail of lights in front of me – and you’d able to gauge the elevation from
this perspective. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">The
lightline started to break as the trail meanders into the woods and the running
pace turned to walking for most of them (myself included). The clear rocky path
one would be familiar to as running the Rover Track in FRIM turns into bloody
roothell. The roots tumbled and crossed whichever way like the Seventies on
steroid as I gingerly put my foot down. My vision was really just at my foot
with the Silva Trail is fogged with my misty breath. By now I was sweating
profusely with the humidity of the forest, and largely from being overly
dressed. The trail snakes up like no end as most times I was running alone in
the dark. At the twist of corners I’d spot a hint of a headlamp just to disappear
onto another. My pace walking up is just labored breaths while at times reeking
with foul words at the crazy climbs! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfyxK709hFbHKcrdgprWws-nNLpsx6nbFVRbHqGr0x40NvHFUDzL1jMA0HLfMrCe71cT3gcTeQenlshNXcA6ToueWGBtsTX_42A6THSlzN5hRixakI5BRjLrGAwr7aHZohd6gczKvVBdWk/s1600/GOPR1884.MP4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfyxK709hFbHKcrdgprWws-nNLpsx6nbFVRbHqGr0x40NvHFUDzL1jMA0HLfMrCe71cT3gcTeQenlshNXcA6ToueWGBtsTX_42A6THSlzN5hRixakI5BRjLrGAwr7aHZohd6gczKvVBdWk/s1600/GOPR1884.MP4" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Oh
let me record what I was wearing from the start line before we go further in
crapping about the climbs, magnificent views and more punishment in running I
sweat my spine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">For
shoes, I had the Brooks Cascadia which only had a 150K mileage after making its
first outing in TMBT 2013 (second leg 50 K, Wisma Perkasa and back). Yes, I am
not fond of the shoes (mind you, I am wearing size 13 UK) as the feet swells
post 50K and that is it. A rigid pair of shoes, but doesn’t allow for ‘friendly
foot expansion’, especially after being trashed in mud etc. I figured the
trails in Rinjani would mostly be dry, so that manipulated my choice for shoes.
What can I say, rookies loves idiotic mistakes like this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I
have a long tight pants (mileage 50K TMBT 2013) after second-guessing how the
climbs would be so frigging cold that I’d better protect my legs. Although I’d
prefer to cover my <i>aurat</i> in public, there’s
nothing like running with sweeping wind between your legs that I love. So the
choice was made, and I wish I hadn’t made that decision as the humidity level
was close to seeing me ripping them pants apart. For 2015, I’d swear againt
this for sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Along
the long-sleeved base layer and my favorite running drifit tee, I had a buff
around my wrist, my Suunto Ambit 2, a running cap, shades Raidlight Olmo 12 and
my minty Black Diamond Z poles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">The
base layer was a good decision, although I hate that it rolled up my belly (ok,
so I am fat – so let’s get that out of the way) but it trapped the body heat
in. The drifit tee had no traction on it and seemed to sway together with the
Raidlight Olmo. Bloody pack cannot be strapped tight enough to make it stay at
one position, damn it!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">The
buff was another good decision as there are tones of dusty stretches along the
climb that not covering your nose could be life-threathening. The amount of
dust kicked up by runners are easily well above the critical air pollution
index level. Unfortunately for me, the buff was not enough to filter the fine
ash that it permeates well inside which was evidence by my black nose, err,
deposits… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">OK,
back to the trails – With a total elevation gain of only about 900m and 5.8K, I
reached W1/Pos 2 with a huge relief. But some late dinner was still in the
system, therefore a small helping of the mini cheese sausages helped to slip in
some salt in my bloodstream. But the W1 is packed with Pocari Sweat so I savored
for a bit to help bring my bursting heart rate down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Khairi
Muin was getting ready to head out, so I got up in hot pursuit. But he proved
to be a pocket rocket as I lost him in a second. Thereon the climb continues on
and on and on and on, until the landscape started to change. The moon-kissed
balmy hills are more apparent, and air is cooler. The thick vegetation thins
out and turns mossy – the same landscape transformation when climbing Mount
Kinabalu (or any other mountains in this region for that matter). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS014YchMNkvpiraPNzcWE7BuUzMJrueXuzTycfR2Fa-2ZT_xgUnmTRQHMj9Fs33bWDcMCMdjzExIPFDqm5fYa8OgXecGAE4_MuRPsIpnkgDW63Gzzh32cR-hTUR1J0DAhSk1fKKM1G0ne/s1600/GOPR1886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS014YchMNkvpiraPNzcWE7BuUzMJrueXuzTycfR2Fa-2ZT_xgUnmTRQHMj9Fs33bWDcMCMdjzExIPFDqm5fYa8OgXecGAE4_MuRPsIpnkgDW63Gzzh32cR-hTUR1J0DAhSk1fKKM1G0ne/s1600/GOPR1886.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was freaking 2:00 a.m. in the morning! What do you expect?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">A
short section of the ascend includes sand, but was easily traversed when
picking the manageable route and holding on to shrubs along the trails. My vision
was more fixed to the sparse bobbing headlight ahead and behind me. Coming up
10.5K to W2/Plawangan Senaru was no less majestic when the walk turned into
light jog amongst the sweeping orange-coloured tents along the trail. Yeah,
exactly what they were thinking – better to be asleep at 3:00 a.m., mate!</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">But
W2 is not short of hydration and cheese sausages – and I just grabbed a couple
and headed down. Whoaaa – the trail immediately dropped precariously vertical
as I grabbed some steel bars for dear life. If you have limited Ultra
experiences like me (more so amplified if you have limited trainings to support
that statement), it’ll shake you to your very spine! As I stepped down gingerly
trying not to disappoint the guy behind he huffing his breath like a dragon, I
also do not want to miss my footing. But my penchant for Indiana Jones movies
when growing helped in this short adventure. Thankfully no rappelling is
required, and I arrived at the mid-base with no drama, and continued to run the
mostly runnable trail. At sections, there are steep areas and slippery areas
that sees mostly my butts touch-n-go-ing with the coarse sand. While being
solid, the Cascadia slides much in this condition. Overall, this stretch is
mostly rocks which can be deadly when combined with small aggregates and sand. Not
without a drama, and possibly fueled by fatigue and sleep deprivation, on one
occasion I somersaulted off the trail into the ravine! Luckily my reflex
dropped the poles and grabbed the long grass and ferns downhill. I came to a
complete stop some 5 metres down with feet dangling, and hauled myself up. 2
runners came from behind and helped me calmed my flustered heart and bruised
ego. It was dark, and there’s no telling what I had put myself into – but as
the pros would tell you to expect these speed bumps along the way when running
trails.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">It
was close to 5:00 a.m. and I limped my way ahead when surprisingly greeted by
the sound of lapping waves. And just like that, W3/Segara Anak Lake is within
sight. By now I was running on rocks and getting faster to the smell of instant
noodles! Yessireee, they served hot white coffee and hot instant noodles in
cups! I probably spent too much time in this transit – performing Subuh
prayers, drinking etc. Waaayy too long. By the time I decided to get up, the
sun breaks and presented God’s creation in its mighty. It is time to bring out
the GoPro and more time is spent to awe at those views – waterfalls in the far
gaze, surrounding greens and bright blue sky! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">It
is also a busy stretch of trail, and it’s common to share the dirt road.
Although, almost always the locals would give way – what with runners looking
like zombies. Looking at the course map, it is just a short 3.5K to
W4/Plawangan Sembalun, but the elevation (elevation gained only 600m) proved
taxing with seemingly endless stairs and turns. I am going to zero out all the
pain-in-the-quads (relatively speaking) and focus on the views. Each sections
are more beautiful than the latter and Hendra as a Race Director knows a tickle
on the ribs when he sees one!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMcekvfTh0hlG7seu7GKyMq2WmVh-K1121FVVughS8MTFnJyFHSFMiKN6GxtQYCDD78YoN9QNGAKc2sLPekUG5Ifnz1bFYVYVCbXejD1qzjKx4LOh54KZA_0efTwaugYGjTGgMlGo1bnW/s1600/GOPR1894.MP4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMcekvfTh0hlG7seu7GKyMq2WmVh-K1121FVVughS8MTFnJyFHSFMiKN6GxtQYCDD78YoN9QNGAKc2sLPekUG5Ifnz1bFYVYVCbXejD1qzjKx4LOh54KZA_0efTwaugYGjTGgMlGo1bnW/s1600/GOPR1894.MP4" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7DlJizc2iBvLrB8IYISwpAOIRY6s-fZi5qeWfZJgtrTcQkIbDFHzdu-oFq37YGbhMwcEcZ0Bi7YM8s1Rr1g8URuV-xEfcZD9ppc_vcjNQDlLHDoy-uZ6xnAdt6SE7jHXR0lWCFAK7uMoG/s1600/GOPR1932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7DlJizc2iBvLrB8IYISwpAOIRY6s-fZi5qeWfZJgtrTcQkIbDFHzdu-oFq37YGbhMwcEcZ0Bi7YM8s1Rr1g8URuV-xEfcZD9ppc_vcjNQDlLHDoy-uZ6xnAdt6SE7jHXR0lWCFAK7uMoG/s1600/GOPR1932.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sun-kissed wall is where you'd be climbing back to Senaru. I bet you'd not be 'adoring it's beauty' then.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoo2X6fLglBc00nphGpAKAGLk8-bOb0-g2rjag2OokR5fdLfyVwZqs62ergYpru-9Cn9Ok1n6P_Ux1Sa-TMo42LKuYJOOUUeROBHxcCeAlAPJ1vC-72wk9GBlICXmQv0DjIijoU-WzHPT4/s1600/GOPR1933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoo2X6fLglBc00nphGpAKAGLk8-bOb0-g2rjag2OokR5fdLfyVwZqs62ergYpru-9Cn9Ok1n6P_Ux1Sa-TMo42LKuYJOOUUeROBHxcCeAlAPJ1vC-72wk9GBlICXmQv0DjIijoU-WzHPT4/s1600/GOPR1933.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK - so I take some selfies. Proves that I am a narcissist sometimes. Aren't we all?<br />Huh - I could see that the Raidlight Olmo is drooping lower at my shoulder blades - must be the reason why it bounces off so much!</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzOKb815Iu5PhIVeVh-KL66pzFtadNz6Jy3BSMQm06Ndyn8S7FvBJHzD50Y77tNl26RzycIhPrzUaL5VHMkMl80_bq9RABuFybLLdRElcCrT6cqwF2Mq88EN1BDBsajJQpJlY8ZkK1E1n4/s1600/GOPR1942.MP4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzOKb815Iu5PhIVeVh-KL66pzFtadNz6Jy3BSMQm06Ndyn8S7FvBJHzD50Y77tNl26RzycIhPrzUaL5VHMkMl80_bq9RABuFybLLdRElcCrT6cqwF2Mq88EN1BDBsajJQpJlY8ZkK1E1n4/s1600/GOPR1942.MP4" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Just
before 8:00 a.m., I reached W4/Plawangan Sembalun in full view of the peak.
Even the volunteers handed over Pocari Sweat bottles, my eyes were glued to the
peak like a moth to a light. It was majestic and terrifying at the same time. Moments
afterwards when the view to the peak is fully savored, I turned to the tents
and rehydrate. This is also where you’d access your drop bags, and I was
reunited with fresh supply of food, some crisps, fresh chocolates (other bars
are soggy in my wet hydration bag) and fresh socks. By now the leaders are
blistering down the peak to oblivion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Below
W4, the view stretches towards the valley and sea below. Up ahead the ridge of
Rinjani peak sliced the lazy thin cloud. Further to the right is Segara Anak
Lake in deep turquoise, and you’d see the face of the climb when going back to
Senaru. With a tight cut-off time, I wonder if I’d be able to go back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">The
peak looked deceivingly near, and I figured for a 1000m elevation gain in 5.2K
would be done in 2 hours as I set off through the many plains filled with
camps. Or at least that’s why I thought (idiot!). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">What
started with fine black sand started to become noticeably annoying with
returning runners kicking up the dust up my throat. Buff up, get up and head
down. Good to say the section is quite easy to tackle, and I soon arrived the
horizontal ridge line where solid rocks were quite runnable. Well, if any of
you running for 2015, enjoy this short stretch as it soon becomes annoyingly bad
like never-ending James Bond’s series! Soon along the trail I found Nik Nasrul
on his back, motionless. He was spent, as I soon to find out real soon, that I
was too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">The
rocks begins to loosen up, and soon real loose. Each 3 steps only harvested one
effective motion forward as the other two slides backwards. It was frustrating looking
at returning runners floating effortlessly, while me, and other climbing
runners were not making any progress. The peak then became like a curse and I
was heaving under the thin air. The poles were useless at this point in pulling
my body weight up, and the gaiters I put at W4 were a nuisance when dust
infiltrate my Cascadia. The pain all over were just a mind over matter, but I
was becoming more angry at the trails – when will I ever get the fuck up! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I
looked at the Suunto, and the cut-off time has ended. There were 5 runners
ahead of me, and some 10 behind my arse. I had my cap, shades, buff on my mouse
and nose, and I was close to giving up. What I could allow myself is to get to
peak regardless and claim my conquering over Rinjani, and head back. So, I had
to keep baby step on the climb, so I clenched
my butts and moved on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Close
to peak, word has it that Hendra extended the cut-off time to 12 noon, so I
hurried to the peak in a surge of emotion. That is not a bad news. And at the
peak I have arrived to a non-eventful stone-place-thing, greeted by many
runners catching a nap. It was cold and windy, and the Adidas windbreaker with
2 layers of base and tee were simply not enough! Then after scampering to reach
the top, I’d have to scamper again down as the volunteers had scaled down in an
effort to rescue themselves from hypothermia. But it was one of the gratifying
moments when handed a blue band as a bragging right. No time to waste, I now
buttfacing the peak, and racing down. Remember when I said ‘flying’? Yup,
flying down was like ice skating. Not that I have tried ice-skating in my life
yet, but at least that was how it felt. It was effortless to say the least, but
jolly fun was more of the whole expression. I now have a chance to kick up dust
to the other trekkers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCa4lGZme_ViAW_Xz9mZPUrYs4GMQeiQs13j6S2Tl3MSije2NOL2RhNlt_s6AEMsJAVnEiej2rzoXz-CMfqvYOlhEgRxQidgk4TXNq5FXwrlG1vsvZZ2i9JBw9WrfrC21AqhF8aNIiZmx/s1600/GOPR1954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCa4lGZme_ViAW_Xz9mZPUrYs4GMQeiQs13j6S2Tl3MSije2NOL2RhNlt_s6AEMsJAVnEiej2rzoXz-CMfqvYOlhEgRxQidgk4TXNq5FXwrlG1vsvZZ2i9JBw9WrfrC21AqhF8aNIiZmx/s1600/GOPR1954.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">W4/Plawangan Sembalun - see the 'short' trail to the peak. Yeah, let that fool you a little. You actually go down after the first hill and start the climb. <br />This is a place where you'd make a fortune selling cold canned drinks and hot curry puffs. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTD2OZ9FxBa3TKh1kVclgUHBHEv7N7EBqkUeY_qIT9ENiz1EWk3rOlgjKWJweNd0eUvvpcBHSB_ImYLOAdm91BxMTJthPihe8ZkRvZTgkbCD_dsZ-l3ZTZY3iCZjwrz51tf139mMl-7kJc/s1600/GOPR1974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTD2OZ9FxBa3TKh1kVclgUHBHEv7N7EBqkUeY_qIT9ENiz1EWk3rOlgjKWJweNd0eUvvpcBHSB_ImYLOAdm91BxMTJthPihe8ZkRvZTgkbCD_dsZ-l3ZTZY3iCZjwrz51tf139mMl-7kJc/s1600/GOPR1974.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fancy this view? Best is to tie tennis rackets to your shoes to get through this hurdle</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjer-AmjA9-32UCjFKF7-MEeW0qZcZgfNa3Ia-pUNGlmvt39YENNGnNnpp-Wq5HsMm60PV-xFmnXPT6Y254rRaiR3j0z4Kk3qDfeCf1jE4iKu-JPe3yN09RbGyViRPeCNqjd_49x0ECoA/s1600/GOPR1976.MP4" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: justify;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjer-AmjA9-32UCjFKF7-MEeW0qZcZgfNa3Ia-pUNGlmvt39YENNGnNnpp-Wq5HsMm60PV-xFmnXPT6Y254rRaiR3j0z4Kk3qDfeCf1jE4iKu-JPe3yN09RbGyViRPeCNqjd_49x0ECoA/s1600/GOPR1976.MP4" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO_C7wUFZksc3sVcUKPW720B3ndDDJ3G3Ad-tOF_FxRjWBAAITXfE33tzuFOdcnMq4X31zpt7dfkmRTYOmnm2FzWcThOclnqwJKx5Q7WFSW-mXITcA4gICoWvkIXYy4zepQyJJUREZYkEW/s1600/GOPR1969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO_C7wUFZksc3sVcUKPW720B3ndDDJ3G3Ad-tOF_FxRjWBAAITXfE33tzuFOdcnMq4X31zpt7dfkmRTYOmnm2FzWcThOclnqwJKx5Q7WFSW-mXITcA4gICoWvkIXYy4zepQyJJUREZYkEW/s1600/GOPR1969.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still 2 hours away from the peak? But the thin air has turn me from a compulsive narcissist to a complete lunatic</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqzeYRMYo6Oowo7EJFT08cGgjmCQO0eeV_YKJ-YdwtuoE2q9ral8aJVJ3C4K-LmXxn18bIvUQIXKIxFRUVdotwaT1UkriekMnAEsqlZLDB2G7yLUSYyF0stCz2Qr47QVLURLblsO2OpMHq/s1600/GOPR1959.MP4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqzeYRMYo6Oowo7EJFT08cGgjmCQO0eeV_YKJ-YdwtuoE2q9ral8aJVJ3C4K-LmXxn18bIvUQIXKIxFRUVdotwaT1UkriekMnAEsqlZLDB2G7yLUSYyF0stCz2Qr47QVLURLblsO2OpMHq/s1600/GOPR1959.MP4" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Close to the peak, and the guy was just showing off</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo-O0uPkj4EBPRPG3NJCztsHcXm42T00oSehBmQai4RgMUppVo42uh6-3WeluBLSoYqmPd6oaXVvAAcStq9pkNPtYw9N1CDcJbhT3YXRW7X5qp-c6q2w69HRilSpPgz2EOZKNDUv0k14d-/s1600/GOPR1986.MP4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo-O0uPkj4EBPRPG3NJCztsHcXm42T00oSehBmQai4RgMUppVo42uh6-3WeluBLSoYqmPd6oaXVvAAcStq9pkNPtYw9N1CDcJbhT3YXRW7X5qp-c6q2w69HRilSpPgz2EOZKNDUv0k14d-/s1600/GOPR1986.MP4" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Coming to the peak with a pilot view. It's the coolest sunbathing spot (just don't roll off the peak) and only place with internet coverage.<br />Amazing how that stupid signage stays put under the strong wing etc. Good that the altitude prevents any drunken hoolies from throwing it off the cliff.<br />Oh... that black tip beyond the cloud is Mount Agung, Bali</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7QsOMlfs-e2TDprriAIpjQ977MEsDZWo_nFsIdZWlD2CnkYi6tq7on-Zni2KvtvCzI1lec7Q9AWkZ4t4u6TcuM6YW2RVOf98ii2MDhp0UXZ2a_e5gf4Xrt_MLU0ji53j3rGl4oaDW85-6/s1600/IMG_5855.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7QsOMlfs-e2TDprriAIpjQ977MEsDZWo_nFsIdZWlD2CnkYi6tq7on-Zni2KvtvCzI1lec7Q9AWkZ4t4u6TcuM6YW2RVOf98ii2MDhp0UXZ2a_e5gf4Xrt_MLU0ji53j3rGl4oaDW85-6/s1600/IMG_5855.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Humbrag a little</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKvdH_8sFXhS7xYysQO7ITIUfBSwFIyNY9ssvlljgygm_oxis0FmqaclySL0ITrwg5J8jBWjUjTZ2ATwXeyWR4fqWfr8BSbQvTnEv6ZLWhjiiWWbbZI5YiHd3Hr-wczU9-i-rJ3iOW2CSB/s1600/GOPR1995.MP4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKvdH_8sFXhS7xYysQO7ITIUfBSwFIyNY9ssvlljgygm_oxis0FmqaclySL0ITrwg5J8jBWjUjTZ2ATwXeyWR4fqWfr8BSbQvTnEv6ZLWhjiiWWbbZI5YiHd3Hr-wczU9-i-rJ3iOW2CSB/s1600/GOPR1995.MP4" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All you need is confidence, and you could fly off this very quickly. But at certain areas, the ridge line is only 5' wide and it's a long way down</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMOSDw5cdPtd9VuL0iK76t1bfJMyZPONLF3YNjpbJ5-DElSVQQ8G8cJDPFtbI0Nc7FOW6JXtJvH6oWqwKc7i2TCYE4cD-3TLbZ_Z77siE1Cb6fnJ2a_AM44hRZBrZL5aasE3Z5ZL7aGDs-/s1600/GOPR2007.MP4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMOSDw5cdPtd9VuL0iK76t1bfJMyZPONLF3YNjpbJ5-DElSVQQ8G8cJDPFtbI0Nc7FOW6JXtJvH6oWqwKc7i2TCYE4cD-3TLbZ_Z77siE1Cb6fnJ2a_AM44hRZBrZL5aasE3Z5ZL7aGDs-/s1600/GOPR2007.MP4" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is close to W4 and I'd recommend 2015 runners to bring their surf boards</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">All
that fun ended when I reached W4 again. There was no water, no food, and I
could not chomp on any Mars or Snickers no more. My body needs something warm
and full. And the officials handed over a heartbreaking news – that I could try
to go for W6/Pos 2 Sembalun but the cut-off by 3:00 p.m. is not achievable, and
I’d lose all support when I head back to W4, let alone other stations in the
woods. In his words, I’d be on my own.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">That
doesn’t need much convincing that I need to call it off. The Plawangan Sembalun
at noon is misty and filled with trekkers like hippies in Woodstock, and I join
the ranks in scaling down to W6/Pos 2 Sembalun to catch our packed lunch, and
was told to be transported out back to Senaru. It was either confusion at such
an altitude, or the officials being irresponsible, I was convinced that the W6
is only 3.8K as stated in the course map. But boy, it ended like walking a full
10K. Most sections are almost vertical downhills and I cannot even fathom how
to climb it all up with no water in the bladder. The only consolation is warm
lunch at the end of the tunnel. I was all tired having spent most of my energy
up the peak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">It
was also misleading as the route markers were non-existent and I was too
incompetent to check my GPS. So, thanks to the trekkers coming up from
Sembalun, I reached W6, and soon joined by Nik. Much to our disgust, there were
no warm lunch, succulent grilled chicken with sambal, and cold drinks. Nooo… I
was offered some mandarin oranges and that was it. Apart from the odd
30-runners louning ‘waiting to be exported out’, we were told that the bus point
is some 1-hour hike. About a handful of WTFs later, we gathered to save our
emotions intact, and started hiking before nightfall.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">It
was another frustrating 2-hours of hiking with no water to the Sembalun
village, not without some scary interludes of going through the Blair Witch
Project’s secondary forest and not seeing civilization and people for hours on
end. But after a mind-numbing stop over the hills, not knowing where to go, a
train of walkers came from behind consisting of local runners who we chugged
along the train to return to wherever it was required to go back to Senaru.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">At
the local village, we devoured food like cavemen – it was already 9:00 p.m.,
and I had not have solid food since morning at W4. So after spending some
Rupiahs on food, we collective arranged for a couple of trucks to transport us
back to Senaru – apparently some 2 hours of driving in pick-up trucks. That was
another IDR50,000/person.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">So
after spending a bumpy, and freezing ride, I arrived at Senaru just about 10
minutes before the total cut-off for the race. Close at 10:00 p.m., the
officials were spending quiet times at the sparse arrival of runners, but I was
too bleeding tired to hang around. Returned to my tent, and dozed off in whatever
gears I had for the day. I only focused on getting a <i>‘speda’</i> I arranged to bring me back to Senggigi to be reunited with
my family – and in my mind – the hell with Rinjani! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">It dawned on me how unceremonious was my first DNF. A ‘tough race’ is not even
a correct definition as I searched my head for a fitting vocabulary. But since I
have already registered for 2015, I would prepare myself a little better, like;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">a)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Arrive
at Senaru earlier to rest, if that is possible<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">b)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Pack
2 bottles of hydration in the drop bag. That was for the first and second
return via W4 when water is not available<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">c)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Similarly,
2 packs of chicken fried rice for that matter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">d)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">In terms
of gear, I’d start with my running shorts from the start line, and skimp on
long pants. I’d need a good stormshell jackets though. But the Salomon low cut
gaiter had to go!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">e)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I wonder
if wearing slippers could be done – perhaps I should put a pair in the drop bag<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">f)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Ditch
the Silva Trail – inadequate lumens was a real bust as I had to squint my old
eyes! The batteries didn’t last long too (ok, I skimped on the low end
batteries, so what?)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">g)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">A
chest mount for the GoPro – that way I’d save from having my fat fingers at the
aperture, and keep hands on the tracks, not on the camera<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">h)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Shoes
selections needs a little bit of heads there. Whether or not I need to invest
in a different pair remains a mystery<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">i)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">The
majority of the running stretch, especially coming down from the peak was
affected by swollen feet. Bigger shoe size, I’m afraid. Might be a good idea to
put a second pair of shoes at W4<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">j)<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">Well,
it’s not a rocket science that I need more trainings done<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-82456280640317161522015-02-23T02:46:00.001-08:002015-02-23T02:46:10.253-08:00Week 3/15<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">This
morning I have woken up to yet another damn early morning trying my best not to
stir my wife and kids as I made my way down. Uneventfully, I had laid the
shorts and drift shirt along the stairs the night before, and fumbled in between
light switches. From outside, it must have been seen like a fucking
fireworks display! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Mornings
like these past weeks was a revelation of how much I missed my old home when I
simply dissipated without much noise. With alarm disarming, 10 million keys and
hundreds of light switches trying to locate my gears, I most times would awaken
Fuzzy the Cat, which would insist that I let her out before I could sit for my breakfast. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br />
It's the end of Week 3/15, and I am honestly knackered. The BeyondTheUltimate
16-weeks training program catapulted the mileage stresses abruptly from a
leisure 3K/days to a hammering 10K Tuesday to kickstart the week. The last time
I did a 10K before work was even before Hendra started the Mount Rinjani Ultra
race. A lot of trails were still not claimed to be (re)discovered by many. And we
had world peace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Up on the
table was a full 4-hours run/walk/TOF at FRIM. But really the target was to
check the early morning crowd, and other logistical issues and plotting the
trails for weeks to come. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I am not
surprised to find the road loop is filled by fresh smell of soap bars and cheap
deodorant as many walkers trot along, but I started a wee bit too late to find
out if the same was in the trails, of which I’d have to be extra careful not to
mistaken the smell with something more mystical.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">And for 4
hours minimum, one round of road from Café to Peras Camp and back, a trip to
TheHelipad, double SteroidHill, and double BukitFRIM with a kick at BukitHantu
enroute to the PylonPeak is bare minimum. I see in the program where trail LSD
peaks at 9-hours run/walk/TOF that ruled FRIM out completely if I were to bore
myself to watch (mostly) mindless cyclists zooming past.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEeZJsnJjGsrk4PUx-9jkdid4OPtaFq_4hPp2V98rG5Yltyd_COPnNCI7m3rkAqcUSMJDW5DqsIi3Zy4k9unK67tLsNd_THrQguIgvLk15lKv6F8rnNBkfsyLNKBjSi09BNIxCeF3mx4s5/s1600/IMG_0100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEeZJsnJjGsrk4PUx-9jkdid4OPtaFq_4hPp2V98rG5Yltyd_COPnNCI7m3rkAqcUSMJDW5DqsIi3Zy4k9unK67tLsNd_THrQguIgvLk15lKv6F8rnNBkfsyLNKBjSi09BNIxCeF3mx4s5/s1600/IMG_0100.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Deserted trail intersection sans the cyclists in the festive season. Saves me from looking down in shame when running down SteroidHill as the reflection of their expensive bikes pierced my eyes.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQDHVTGUtCTaGEhdvsziagT4t6YWlTxxqpt9_LCwzHocVxxzZA1VF42e22PROtM0RLGw9j4LSG9kAVdWlu1k0K_hv79GepsnexxvI3cweZ-mjxkkBj1xIHXsrtuptCAndmnLWM9XJu8Qx/s1600/IMG_8225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQDHVTGUtCTaGEhdvsziagT4t6YWlTxxqpt9_LCwzHocVxxzZA1VF42e22PROtM0RLGw9j4LSG9kAVdWlu1k0K_hv79GepsnexxvI3cweZ-mjxkkBj1xIHXsrtuptCAndmnLWM9XJu8Qx/s1600/IMG_8225.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know, I know - such is an old image that needs no introduction. Not a stranger is this step towards the Pokok Rambutans at TheHeliPad. It sure is getting harder to run up these roots. But it simplifies the 'almost the end' moment when The HeliPad is within reach, and going through the Hornet's Farm just 300m ahead.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqkXfyIrIKgaI_F4f9dYT9wXv97oYebuWoZ489YEx0UI-D_XmWgvN4PBRt6AqqMXbSYhAFKK4hEPdiXKoz2w2MdNckuu6h09RKcoAotKMbKVlK4jXhlwBN8kLIehRraQ28RjWendPkFJK3/s1600/IMG_8228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqkXfyIrIKgaI_F4f9dYT9wXv97oYebuWoZ489YEx0UI-D_XmWgvN4PBRt6AqqMXbSYhAFKK4hEPdiXKoz2w2MdNckuu6h09RKcoAotKMbKVlK4jXhlwBN8kLIehRraQ28RjWendPkFJK3/s1600/IMG_8228.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Come here when the <i>rambutans </i>are in season (and come early) and you'll be rewarded with the sweet fruit. I'd like to stay here for some time to ponder what have I done for the past 2 hours and put a perplexed face to the oncoming cyclists. Not a visual foreign to FRIM enthusiasts, The HeliPad has since been renamed to Pinus Peak, or something dodgy like that.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj03aorK0hFdL7I-xVn8hTEjzCGHJHxL3FaNPeuL4sZAdqPkxWzvZYYGeyratZfi-fKU9XheUruGsWnIFwBe6p8FhyF3svCX4IVy6gkfarCe9t1UA1BN7JA7qIYb7x6tuNWiOq2JMRVzQoP/s1600/IMG_9732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj03aorK0hFdL7I-xVn8hTEjzCGHJHxL3FaNPeuL4sZAdqPkxWzvZYYGeyratZfi-fKU9XheUruGsWnIFwBe6p8FhyF3svCX4IVy6gkfarCe9t1UA1BN7JA7qIYb7x6tuNWiOq2JMRVzQoP/s1600/IMG_9732.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The view down the SteroidHill never dissapoint. It is also a perfect spot to excuse myself to stop running and walking down. Since the trail has been changed to solid earth fitting more to 4WDs roving up rather than for runners and cyclists, it can at most times be a bitch to run those compacted red earth.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBF6d9LJkpb-LZBh3nLCgKMEvNsKPdZKB57lWWo7sbMvqWYmtp1_ifoDt2LXzLztLZGSlbqOP_w55_NLfRxKKb2UqjWe8WwsvhU3iBvTups845Sy5TVR1yPT6gDzWdxUhROVb91HOYHBv/s1600/IMG_9739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBF6d9LJkpb-LZBh3nLCgKMEvNsKPdZKB57lWWo7sbMvqWYmtp1_ifoDt2LXzLztLZGSlbqOP_w55_NLfRxKKb2UqjWe8WwsvhU3iBvTups845Sy5TVR1yPT6gDzWdxUhROVb91HOYHBv/s1600/IMG_9739.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After Round 1, I realised it is completely revitalising to refuel with a hot sugary drinks. I also realised how distasteful it is to place your drink next to a stinking shoes. Regardless, Adizero XT looks stellar!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCzW6qjcbg8B0i4ktFssy0S5DK-U_KU9xktQbtw9tpv1loYU1raQy-9ZncsfvdeJx0-b50P59F4QMB-yoIafBN4UEvHvgd5Q9-eaehmToKlkMxctQsIAkSo0wSQPdNwKSAhqx184g_7D8/s1600/IMG_8671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuCzW6qjcbg8B0i4ktFssy0S5DK-U_KU9xktQbtw9tpv1loYU1raQy-9ZncsfvdeJx0-b50P59F4QMB-yoIafBN4UEvHvgd5Q9-eaehmToKlkMxctQsIAkSo0wSQPdNwKSAhqx184g_7D8/s1600/IMG_8671.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">View from the PylonPeak with Batu Caves at the centre. The butt-crippling climb to here from the BukitFRIM can be unforgiving but for a chance to openly pee to a view like this is not something you'd get to do. So far the highest free toilet in FRIM!</span></td></tr>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">On the other hand, in the next 12-weeks or so, I hope to carve out my new
reputation as ‘The Running Dad’, as I dropped my daughter at school
nonchalantly with my lycra three-quarter, and headed off into the streets of
Melawati these days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOu6LUMwgKzKUaPpT3KUNlARIGNfp0m1eGEXG3IWFtPp1Be41jhyqL4iyKSQH59-w-M3xzDbgnWC60mpBOUXM8CFenHH5ePVGDDJfOxbEJuab1vklxju3S3eioBEseilEihGG6VoA1QgVQ/s1600/IMG_9694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOu6LUMwgKzKUaPpT3KUNlARIGNfp0m1eGEXG3IWFtPp1Be41jhyqL4iyKSQH59-w-M3xzDbgnWC60mpBOUXM8CFenHH5ePVGDDJfOxbEJuab1vklxju3S3eioBEseilEihGG6VoA1QgVQ/s1600/IMG_9694.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The back of the Titiwangsa ridge at the backdrop - if only someony would do the bushwacking of all the greens below the ridge. The view in itself is just temporarily splendid, but a better alternative nonetheless. I think this is the infamous Tabur East.</span></td></tr>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">
As the week progresses into higher mileage demands, the past weeks were also
spent to map out potential water stations, and see my time management in
getting home on time to cook (my) breakfast, getting the guys ready, mix a
concoction of insanely experimental smoothies. At this rate, I’d be back in my Superman
form when changing into my run gears/work attires is done in record time. As
long as I remember to keep the underpants on the inside of my trousers, my
industry will approve of the chosen dress code.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">But
I need to learn to run again, and inch my way up the ranks. A lot has since
happened since 2012 it now feels almost alien turning up at Bukit Aman. For
one, the absence of the old open parking lot which witnessed tones of breakfast
runs and potlucks are gone with runners are divided between Lake Garden and
Padang Merbuk does not give back the charm and sentiments I used to look
forward to. The oversized multi-storey parking is like most things in KL –
insensitive, impersonal and reduced the romantic values of the city. I certainly
miss seeing with envy of the fast runners coming back from Hartamas with the remaining
2K heading down the road so fast in full view of their super calves. As far as
the rank is concerned, the 100K/weeks mileage is now miniscule in comparison to
the hardcores running well above 200K/weeks! That ought to put things in perspectives
<i>if</i> you are taking that route. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2_BoQR5niGf3RahFZuCs7c7oZochIBd6QGJS-g7eZJxRQtFkX-ic6_6qTfHiPl6smu2BLZs688GNgOf3nX-LqRlNqYf5PplGj5O7U7Eb61jlrshTqmOF01ywoFbeNG5jxHKg3y8JlCMn/s1600/IMG_0041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb2_BoQR5niGf3RahFZuCs7c7oZochIBd6QGJS-g7eZJxRQtFkX-ic6_6qTfHiPl6smu2BLZs688GNgOf3nX-LqRlNqYf5PplGj5O7U7Eb61jlrshTqmOF01ywoFbeNG5jxHKg3y8JlCMn/s1600/IMG_0041.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sharing the trails with ATVs along the Bamboo Trail in Kemensah. Seen in the picture is Azrul, Catman and Azhar. Not a solitary trail and very doable, this is a possible extension to Lubuk Tedung which we'll try to figure out in the next weeks. But being at the later stage of the run/recce, some slid food is recommended. Volunteers serving icy Coke along the way is highly appreciated.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_X_7SiB9AYTgdrIjeEiNTwgwVoWsl3wIpefZvAyLKcTQuQ6xdYxUsV_PNubLRWdXQ950XiLWLle7S3cRbFYe224MbEPJy0NAUGvIXejNW2CeDN9G8NztTcPwX8sRHBrWof0QmQlkwWp2/s1600/IMG_0049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_X_7SiB9AYTgdrIjeEiNTwgwVoWsl3wIpefZvAyLKcTQuQ6xdYxUsV_PNubLRWdXQ950XiLWLle7S3cRbFYe224MbEPJy0NAUGvIXejNW2CeDN9G8NztTcPwX8sRHBrWof0QmQlkwWp2/s1600/IMG_0049.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the end of the Bamboo Trail - the purposeful respite. Experience at this location is not memorable, but in case when you did not put enough hydration in your bladder - a good place to refill with ice cold water. Depending on your personal gut health, take precautionary measures.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtX50KKKCMHiiG7h18Dy4eaHPZfaX8PZXak91LWA9lX94oH-JT9f_M2kW8tG7dA0ndiRobNpkxi_9wzSDr_bJw7uQKYSVG8n1GA0Ua6HtO4cmHKksW_PUEbF8c6C0Ybz4chh9yzxpqmoR7/s1600/IMG_0073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtX50KKKCMHiiG7h18Dy4eaHPZfaX8PZXak91LWA9lX94oH-JT9f_M2kW8tG7dA0ndiRobNpkxi_9wzSDr_bJw7uQKYSVG8n1GA0Ua6HtO4cmHKksW_PUEbF8c6C0Ybz4chh9yzxpqmoR7/s1600/IMG_0073.JPG" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We miscalculated our route having too much fun downhills and arrived at the Klang Gate lake. The picture is intentionally tilted to reflect my delusional self after the descend. If you have been to Kemensah trails, you'll know the insanity of those speed running down switchbacks.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWWSZRffpiRW1o2QREwsvAsicUN84lyCqRTpevryVOT7sbXlj9b9y_ZZmDtAr2avnD_lD6J7NdEBjNjNHDmUdqOByYNvyuSdz5xozGUqrEjb5HBRN55qhrk8VpYXoBk28A0jziYTEB7bWM/s1600/IMG_9931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWWSZRffpiRW1o2QREwsvAsicUN84lyCqRTpevryVOT7sbXlj9b9y_ZZmDtAr2avnD_lD6J7NdEBjNjNHDmUdqOByYNvyuSdz5xozGUqrEjb5HBRN55qhrk8VpYXoBk28A0jziYTEB7bWM/s1600/IMG_9931.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bux arriving at Pengasih. He was responsible in busting my cold lungs at the early stage climbing up Nuang with his fastpaced climbs. I had never seen my foggy breath that laboured since I did Genting Trailblazers 4 years ago! At this point, it was drizzling and he acclimitized mildly for his Lantau adventures.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVp5H_QolmgJhm3ADc9DomLjXYQ9YLK6-E6pf8A1dsMr-Sy3TrNWUZfDh87Dz0PNZYin-sPHmvMOmRex9vQovpfNeCpZyoBAjE9j1fB_RtvICVDWbF-Cu_KTSsbMXMfhXxTiutH5kNxgny/s1600/IMG_9934.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVp5H_QolmgJhm3ADc9DomLjXYQ9YLK6-E6pf8A1dsMr-Sy3TrNWUZfDh87Dz0PNZYin-sPHmvMOmRex9vQovpfNeCpZyoBAjE9j1fB_RtvICVDWbF-Cu_KTSsbMXMfhXxTiutH5kNxgny/s1600/IMG_9934.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Despite all the hype, this was just my 2nd time up to the peak. I could see Trailblazerz's sticker on it too. Kudos to Hatta for sprucing up the trail running hype in Malaysia! This was taken before 10a.m. and the peak was still deserted. Not the same I could say when we made it back from the other side.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpMCMV7J1Q3F1DEDvFAlUMv8YKbOGs6ATDwqkpBAhZ0fJwm7MxYV5SzJapjr5Fm16GGiIhbi6Xn0qymhc-Rpwrf3P3dbZaQKhm8iro7eEiHz4LGNunu9Nj5J_Bs-RArCDXWEuajVKgwGj/s1600/IMG_9936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpMCMV7J1Q3F1DEDvFAlUMv8YKbOGs6ATDwqkpBAhZ0fJwm7MxYV5SzJapjr5Fm16GGiIhbi6Xn0qymhc-Rpwrf3P3dbZaQKhm8iro7eEiHz4LGNunu9Nj5J_Bs-RArCDXWEuajVKgwGj/s1600/IMG_9936.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Always a welcomed respite to see Superstars on the trails. I mean - would you look at that zero-fat quads? Don't let those friendly smiles fool you - these guys will smoke you! And I am thankful no visible white hair on my part made my day typing this.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-VlpKjWNREANQcBC8XdIFCZn0LMCoPujAjXPTDPock7zJuioREzIx-UEM9c6Pay6l2uHoaCGwjW5VnXXJ8RvEaEADP5trubcaOG0Q3_cy4GY9_rHXgbz4Dydqx0uXl1YHxr39WeOQhcqn/s1600/IMG_9942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-VlpKjWNREANQcBC8XdIFCZn0LMCoPujAjXPTDPock7zJuioREzIx-UEM9c6Pay6l2uHoaCGwjW5VnXXJ8RvEaEADP5trubcaOG0Q3_cy4GY9_rHXgbz4Dydqx0uXl1YHxr39WeOQhcqn/s1600/IMG_9942.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The crystal clear water of Chemperoh with darting fishes. I wonder if such view in salmon season in Alaska.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1YjfAYW-YHad9Shn_IXjPPSyNRNfMPcjE9GQ_retCD6OAa08xB3m28m4hk1tKZ8Sr43DBXM3cK1twtqGBPo45g5lc-hgW0NrorT0b2SNh51DYB26P5XD9UzujIQq3hjOCQS6CUj396dVO/s1600/IMG_9946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1YjfAYW-YHad9Shn_IXjPPSyNRNfMPcjE9GQ_retCD6OAa08xB3m28m4hk1tKZ8Sr43DBXM3cK1twtqGBPo45g5lc-hgW0NrorT0b2SNh51DYB26P5XD9UzujIQq3hjOCQS6CUj396dVO/s1600/IMG_9946.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After 4-hours run/walk, you'll be rewarded with this tantalising aperture. Yes, you can go skinny-dipping in its pool but no guarantee in shrinking your balls in the process. If I was a 12-year old boy doing my Arts homework, this would be highly inspirational. Now I am more content to check on my blisters and eat my Mars bars. Better still, chicken currypuffs.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPNX-F3wOUh7tU4fEypJVTluMtx2EzlaPvRENqZxlidjHMeWUZTRNgyNXamGbpQoTKlQ6AGQS7dw-vE6HUVNn0ENZRU51Wl49sYkO1fGExoOfTX3CU3uvdu9RJ-Yfs3VOiEd9d90NQ_hZG/s1600/IMG_9949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPNX-F3wOUh7tU4fEypJVTluMtx2EzlaPvRENqZxlidjHMeWUZTRNgyNXamGbpQoTKlQ6AGQS7dw-vE6HUVNn0ENZRU51Wl49sYkO1fGExoOfTX3CU3uvdu9RJ-Yfs3VOiEd9d90NQ_hZG/s1600/IMG_9949.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last known picture of NB. After its stint in TMBT and long hiatus, the pair was shred beyond repair under the Nuang trails. They have since been discarded after safely sent me back to the carpark. Under close scrutiny is the seedless mint plums and Power Root liquid sugar to see if they qualify as travel companion. Status still not confirmed.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM4BRPBU8lftmI9jO8Fj5Tk8CzoCOnOtKbKsDZg9jAe0Jgcl5P2nns2NUB_cbUOYJPjIToEkUowM4n4_Ge_yE0gfmk2cT8C7V50iVmp7Ep7ip8_LdlgmJHUtdtAIf_8_HRofi-JisAqEG_/s1600/IMG_9954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM4BRPBU8lftmI9jO8Fj5Tk8CzoCOnOtKbKsDZg9jAe0Jgcl5P2nns2NUB_cbUOYJPjIToEkUowM4n4_Ge_yE0gfmk2cT8C7V50iVmp7Ep7ip8_LdlgmJHUtdtAIf_8_HRofi-JisAqEG_/s1600/IMG_9954.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had to see it myself this sign of 'forward-thinking' as the main trailhead up to Lolo Camp is progressively being replaced by concrete access. Welcome the Mat Rempits, and runners/hikers will have to extra cautious this 'progress' brings.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">3
weeks in the bag, I am bugged that the scale is not tipping downward yet. Although
the long weekend did not help, the weekdays have been a pretty clean diet. Force-feeding
quinoa salad is not an adorable sight, and when it’s an everyday thing it is
hard to swallow. I look around the gym junkies in the office with the after
lunch protein shakes, creatine and other magical spells with roasted chicken, hard-boiled
eggs and greens to find inner strength and inspiration. It is an uphill battle
with little or no carbs – if anything, I am not eating, o wait, fuelling enough
for the long runs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">While
throughout 2013 and 2014 when training/running for TMBT and MRU involved little
to none fuelling plan and diet with absent structured training plan, it was no
surprise why my weight has ballooned up. Another year like these, I’d have to
donate my entire wardrobe and start new! Which is exactly why 2015 has to be
none of whateverthats. If anyone knows of a 100K trail running training &
weightloss plan for persons beyond 40-years old – please PM me immediately.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUXp7xLuWdjOu0FA_zw2h3jlILF5-2aqdngxSjRbDFjzypgzbRWX_FQ3u5GfoMW6oU1c34liFEdApTvzy0G8rwYDpLsCyVNMgi9WoZ-lHCVddCZ62t-bo8U21ojlavwAsfQx2ZbFblrN06/s1600/IMG_0111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUXp7xLuWdjOu0FA_zw2h3jlILF5-2aqdngxSjRbDFjzypgzbRWX_FQ3u5GfoMW6oU1c34liFEdApTvzy0G8rwYDpLsCyVNMgi9WoZ-lHCVddCZ62t-bo8U21ojlavwAsfQx2ZbFblrN06/s1600/IMG_0111.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This little guy already smoking me to the waterfall at the foot of Canopy Walk. Look at that stride! Even when we descended to the creeks and pools below, he was 'in his element'. He deserves his first trail shoes...</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Anyway,
let’s not get overboard with this first blog entry in 3 years – the focus is
now to find a new balance (not the shoe company) with all the things in universe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 107%;">With
the trails are done this week, it’s back to the RPM classes and road running
again. And with the long weekend and festivity done, it is back to annoying conglomerates
and hypocrisy. Hopefully I get a fruitful Week 4 without much wrestling. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-53546802186216435402013-09-19T01:52:00.000-07:002013-09-19T01:52:06.978-07:00The Most Beautiful Thing 2013 - The Euphoria<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It is official - I am the fastest male, Malay runner, age circa 35-40 years in my condominium. Hey, possibly the entire of Taman Melati. Perhaps, until the next Ultra Marathon event where Catman will avenge - in Taman Keramat too, next to Irina, who is the fastest female in Taman Keramat AU5.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-PmOHHG3eC_w_RGyUKhwjJhFhnN1_kD2VEK_4bK78cxdNdURbN4LCFC1fwwqc_GuUP_Fnij77paLUFvYVIP14KbOjXDBfr45krIot9Q6Sv2yFlN37lHIKKKk3C8xUIbebOhR0scZLoA_x/s1600/TMBT+2013+Official+Race+Course+Map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-PmOHHG3eC_w_RGyUKhwjJhFhnN1_kD2VEK_4bK78cxdNdURbN4LCFC1fwwqc_GuUP_Fnij77paLUFvYVIP14KbOjXDBfr45krIot9Q6Sv2yFlN37lHIKKKk3C8xUIbebOhR0scZLoA_x/s640/TMBT+2013+Official+Race+Course+Map.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">TMBT 2013 is my first attempt at 100K - after few 50K distances in the TNF100 Singapore series. It was something I had in mind for some time now, and this year was when I have to walk the talk.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Truth be told, I was lured to this event back in 2011 but the years preceded with no real chance to register due to sheer reason that the stars were not aligned. So September this year, I found myself in the corral - a lot scared, only to be comforted by the sights of running friends and familiar strangers. To say that was not intimidating is an understatement, given my kamikaze-attitude this past years. But at that point, I have not gone beyond the sacred 50K mark, of which I had nothing to be proud of anyway. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But the trails are nothing short of picturesque Sabah – deep within Kinabalu, Ranau and Kundasang remote locations not accessible to the general tourists. I was told this year’s edition is lacking the beautiful hotspots they enjoyed in 2012 but I can’t complain.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Note : </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pics in this blog are a combination of my (very limited) own, and Leong Kwan Meng's, Abdul Rahim's and main TMBT's, plus some random from friends - of which I'll try to give due credit accordingly.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGTHjF_OmLuWefoPcU1LLiC1RvWs-i-oshlA4TAzK7aI4h7sscy9AGMsTgWt2844QwBeL00JZX6Wz3w9VotiwH-CwSrZSTcyc8JxwYAltZ-AREeohYnrJFIeXcX26h4Qj7zsEDCrMIbF7/s1600/IMG_0328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGTHjF_OmLuWefoPcU1LLiC1RvWs-i-oshlA4TAzK7aI4h7sscy9AGMsTgWt2844QwBeL00JZX6Wz3w9VotiwH-CwSrZSTcyc8JxwYAltZ-AREeohYnrJFIeXcX26h4Qj7zsEDCrMIbF7/s640/IMG_0328.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Organiser has arranged for a centralised pick-up from Kota Kinabalu itself, with tonnes of buses and minivans transporting most of 25, 50 and 100K runners into Kg. Lingkubang, with few customary piss-stop along the highway.</span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-7ZGhgDTOxgXA6AKYTsiknvvfOFomk-pnPxDmdz4B3f64WQvvVYpDgx-7mMd_nsYbrHbK-EEFBErth_yOsj45sU9akfraxdIEFBU-hkG3yzIotzWQdrhdGxOFVCewJnVLvZkmqY2cM6yV/s1600/IMG_0332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-7ZGhgDTOxgXA6AKYTsiknvvfOFomk-pnPxDmdz4B3f64WQvvVYpDgx-7mMd_nsYbrHbK-EEFBErth_yOsj45sU9akfraxdIEFBU-hkG3yzIotzWQdrhdGxOFVCewJnVLvZkmqY2cM6yV/s640/IMG_0332.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Speedster Erwan and his (2 of his) kids, with Mount Kinabalu in the background.<br />No. 849 - Calm before the storm</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Hr17RB72siFygWMXbpWz6MUle6OLtKqhIR9ZBVZyGRx7ZswGruV92bKEZoTW-Wna3Tjr8yFL4kj2UEiLNNP0LBi_DgXiWtUGbYynDCiM6tahZRXQBNnzAg6V3neGm0GNgA9NHqSA9Wb9/s1600/IMG_0330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Hr17RB72siFygWMXbpWz6MUle6OLtKqhIR9ZBVZyGRx7ZswGruV92bKEZoTW-Wna3Tjr8yFL4kj2UEiLNNP0LBi_DgXiWtUGbYynDCiM6tahZRXQBNnzAg6V3neGm0GNgA9NHqSA9Wb9/s640/IMG_0330.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Look what the Speedster Erwan has in his bag - boiled eggs!</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfViFzsh72E2T_43V6M_huuuascyyaMRqjB-gAQkXENbgPhLQH2hVKfOcvuczUvMy2A84IPLdnbbktBfL7fhNSV3PqxY9TQUw9gzZjJCfXFkABwohtD8_yaClQN5c5aDFKIjixxEc7imA4/s1600/IMG_0333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfViFzsh72E2T_43V6M_huuuascyyaMRqjB-gAQkXENbgPhLQH2hVKfOcvuczUvMy2A84IPLdnbbktBfL7fhNSV3PqxY9TQUw9gzZjJCfXFkABwohtD8_yaClQN5c5aDFKIjixxEc7imA4/s640/IMG_0333.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>The registration (inside the hall) and breakout space in the Padang</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieBM6hK7CaKynHAJ-SUptwhtHkOVY88dTy0uzY3xK3LhWvFBHpmwxoxVQ-B7SrrfziBDSTgndH-jGmOmwx0WnWC3_S7c6Y01CQZPCJCye1Pm_RpQ4hu7oeWykhFUhg3yIIvxjjM7T-EXDs/s1600/1187074_10201306208570282_1527925447_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieBM6hK7CaKynHAJ-SUptwhtHkOVY88dTy0uzY3xK3LhWvFBHpmwxoxVQ-B7SrrfziBDSTgndH-jGmOmwx0WnWC3_S7c6Y01CQZPCJCye1Pm_RpQ4hu7oeWykhFUhg3yIIvxjjM7T-EXDs/s640/1187074_10201306208570282_1527925447_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Happy faces, happy thoughts</b></span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">(photo credit : Leong Kwan Weng)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8MkwVJ2G0wXZy0U58z5uSSZuMbl1VaJvH4YhFrbc_zzX_csHpd2baoDbcerRwMxAR22zBfQbwgp79h-sbxM4aVhSBYWl2dADqfyS2W8DwLLDjfxp849D-bg4bFFN2y3Y-cPR5XcWoUwp/s1600/IMG_0335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8MkwVJ2G0wXZy0U58z5uSSZuMbl1VaJvH4YhFrbc_zzX_csHpd2baoDbcerRwMxAR22zBfQbwgp79h-sbxM4aVhSBYWl2dADqfyS2W8DwLLDjfxp849D-bg4bFFN2y3Y-cPR5XcWoUwp/s640/IMG_0335.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKBCks1-SHNmNbV6J4FpLe1sfgDTUJPv99IZLmguQXLru1t3SY8V8Y8hYex6nFwyDhYEBI7IqxPhAd1IgGBohcRilZcR0otqD4tZYqD7ly75Aul9qlXhExwzB0Ucs9UPpbSYk5nUP2c03/s1600/923395_10151735609389457_176639510_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKBCks1-SHNmNbV6J4FpLe1sfgDTUJPv99IZLmguQXLru1t3SY8V8Y8hYex6nFwyDhYEBI7IqxPhAd1IgGBohcRilZcR0otqD4tZYqD7ly75Aul9qlXhExwzB0Ucs9UPpbSYk5nUP2c03/s640/923395_10151735609389457_176639510_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The race started uneventfully, as runners huddled and moved ahead. It was close to 8:00 a.m., and the sky was opening up. The increasing humidity level rises with uplifting camaraderie, and as crazy as it sounds - runners were smiling, and chatting away. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUa0sQEinh3Xgm-jiGtQmwBHrIxXMkCPlRdpvfM9Ir5JcGYyR3UwowTXhyUPqfbsaTslYs2mJVuxA5BMHn5cMwhyphenhyphenuKgPoHZK_4YsUgd8wFafIdyj6vgtcatkdP5nXcFvs7gscEjOy4KtG/s1600/554634_542315389185092_965400787_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUa0sQEinh3Xgm-jiGtQmwBHrIxXMkCPlRdpvfM9Ir5JcGYyR3UwowTXhyUPqfbsaTslYs2mJVuxA5BMHn5cMwhyphenhyphenuKgPoHZK_4YsUgd8wFafIdyj6vgtcatkdP5nXcFvs7gscEjOy4KtG/s640/554634_542315389185092_965400787_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Gambar lenglui for McIjam</b></span><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">(photo credit : Leong Kwan Weng)</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The thoughts of the next unforgiving terrains are oblivious to these hardcore and experienced runners. I ogled at their confidence (and gears) with envy. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>This bridge, I heard, held back runners for hours<br />(photo credit : Leong Kwan Weng)</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We passed through Kg. Lingkubang, and through to the first hanging bridge. As it allows only 5 runners to pass through at a time, all runners are bundled in a long queue but not without few inconsiderate ones cutting queues, who seemed to be chasing their own inflated egos. Nonetheless, we passed the bridge that spans a beautiful river, which is equally identical to many endless rivers and streams we had to pass along the race eventually.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>photo credit : Nasier Lee</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In between my nervousness calculating the unbelievable miles ahead of me, I can only remember very vaguely of the race routes between Kg. Lingkubang, WS1 at Kg. Tambatuan and WS2 at Kg. Lobong-Lobong except for the many breathtaking (cold) streams, and passing through the padi fields painting a bright green carpet alongside the river with commanding view of the Mount Kinabalu and the blue sky.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We intertwined between many fields, and through few treacherous ravines which will send you off at least 20metres below. The thrill factor is max!</span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnK3IT4jSjQVR6IA1xJDp-3oyte8_kxZk2YevOXhUvT48W7paLg9VEBapWi-Q8svQn3Iz0i1BBwJ-MfduORbYmxr1iEXXW0zmHFJW1YH0Dr0w4WSifIEO4E2m8eokAeokXpPtiLwClXHM2/s1600/IMG_0342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnK3IT4jSjQVR6IA1xJDp-3oyte8_kxZk2YevOXhUvT48W7paLg9VEBapWi-Q8svQn3Iz0i1BBwJ-MfduORbYmxr1iEXXW0zmHFJW1YH0Dr0w4WSifIEO4E2m8eokAeokXpPtiLwClXHM2/s640/IMG_0342.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Gorgeous, didn't I</td></tr>
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW0OzMtxV0FgfipralQejKJg-NPh3RZJ2zURfsvlYAgUn6lWCMDT2UmONIZJSip0QInVO5fhmlYBSBfayNOgR7UnzhEWpUhWCyaF9Jmx_z0AXy6jjbve_UZp2QUAP49uLi2jnRwe-Dh7bb/s1600/1187193_542316845851613_1454456198_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW0OzMtxV0FgfipralQejKJg-NPh3RZJ2zURfsvlYAgUn6lWCMDT2UmONIZJSip0QInVO5fhmlYBSBfayNOgR7UnzhEWpUhWCyaF9Jmx_z0AXy6jjbve_UZp2QUAP49uLi2jnRwe-Dh7bb/s640/1187193_542316845851613_1454456198_n.jpg" width="640" /></a>Many of these river crossing against the riverine. Rugi tak bawak goggle!<br />(photo credit : KW Leong)<br /><b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody style="display: inline !important;">
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgumqYxZHqeRU5dldvVCeUbmTuiI2xL6muHL1QyDt0Yo4Ktgb6It2GvN50ZRx-fzqHHJeaL_QaK2IDJ9Y0D-0nBDxDf6jmRtbOv-WoDR0Fo6y6u_gQqaHiSu06V5ijJEH55Lk2SlZsr__IM/s1600/1209106_10201306780144571_503983942_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgumqYxZHqeRU5dldvVCeUbmTuiI2xL6muHL1QyDt0Yo4Ktgb6It2GvN50ZRx-fzqHHJeaL_QaK2IDJ9Y0D-0nBDxDf6jmRtbOv-WoDR0Fo6y6u_gQqaHiSu06V5ijJEH55Lk2SlZsr__IM/s640/1209106_10201306780144571_503983942_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>CP1 - The 25K Split Point</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The mental block was to keep moving up the elevation and I was at that point not enjoying the experience but getting more adamant to quit. This is echoed, even amplified when passing WS2 en-route to WS 3 at Kg. Kiau Nulu – runners have to run in between the rubber plantation, much similar to Kiara trails. The rubber plantations, although briefly transported me back to my childhood days, did not do wonders, especially when the elevation keeps going higher. I cursed at my lack of training for that delusional obsession to throw in the towel. Instead of breaking down the race into smaller CPs and WSs as laid out by the Organiser, I zoomed at getting to the 50K mark with only 16K in! The end, even at that point, is not near.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I dropped down few times with my tongue sticking out just atop after the countless hills within the variable plantations – partly pineapples, padi fields, after having to go through endless climbs. Running on top of the ridge of open vastness offers nothing short of spectacular open landscape with mounding hills as the sun stands directly above our heads when I could see few huts dotted along the way – a simple shed for the farmers to rest. The wasted coals and ashes at the centre are evident that they probably cook water, or grilled tapiocas for lunch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I reached one empty hut alongside few runners and stopped to rest (I stopped to lay on my back for some minutes). We exchanged swear words of how tough the trails had been, and share a mixture of nuts, dates, chocolates etc amongst ourselves. So after 20 minutes or so, reluctantly I got up and left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I needed to go on and complete this race. What would I tell my kids if their dad is a quitter (no pun intended)? The faces of my kids ran past me and how I aspire them to be successful, and I cannot start with myself by being otherwise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>See what you are missing!</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">All and around us</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CjqWOBluY0SBr27pmpXxwmZGHVDiuyNSyvHbyAtQ1ODmZ0vaWmhgwrNn7YJkkiQNGvqR3t8Xz2vJV2VOWXwimt884Y3pr8FdDyEYpDeMSgwF544U2Ydd3GPlfVt13qfXoFeALpvGsjYy/s1600/1004856_10201306789904815_1433236534_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CjqWOBluY0SBr27pmpXxwmZGHVDiuyNSyvHbyAtQ1ODmZ0vaWmhgwrNn7YJkkiQNGvqR3t8Xz2vJV2VOWXwimt884Y3pr8FdDyEYpDeMSgwF544U2Ydd3GPlfVt13qfXoFeALpvGsjYy/s640/1004856_10201306789904815_1433236534_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Watch those pineapples!</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">The last hut before getting into the trails towards Miki Camp<br />(photo credit : KW Leong)</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Almost immediately, the trail clears as we were kept walking on the ridge, and just a short while after fern bushes and few humming handmade wind-turbines later, we entered the rainforest en-route the “Miki Camp Loop” which is full of switchbacks and trails we had to share with oncoming runners, having done their loop. I found a spring with bamboo spout and quickly refilled my empty bladder and bottles. Still feeling dejected, I pushed on. Just before the CP2, we would pass series of small huts, and I saw 3 girls lining up in front of their house, clapping to encourage us runners. My spirit is suddenly lifted – I said thank you, smiled at them and headed on. Their positive spirit must have given me some kind of magic, that I picked up pace, and was flying in the Miki Camp Loop. The trails have been quite sploshy, even slippery at places but not quite like in Genting Trailblazer few year back. I have found myself a trusty wooden stick to help buffer any fall, and all sorts of stunts in the forest. After many exhilarating twists and turns, my then running partners and I arrived at the camp. No drama here, as we had our numbers crossed, and headed straight out. The volunteers warned us about the thousands of leeches are waiting for us and we laughed away (I did not get bitten from any single leech). There are many incidence I grabbed on thorny barks and horizontal roots with spikes but lucky enough not to cut myself. I suppose next time would call for a proper gloves, just to be on a safe side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Good to see you, KM!</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>One of the checkpoints (photo credit : KW Leong)</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Just before we exit the rainforest, the rain started to speckle the otherwise nice terrain, and we stopped to put on our jackets. And quickly enough, we headed out back into the open field to find thick fog encapsulating the hills around us. As I passed through a volunteer’s hut, they were calling out for us to stop and have some pineapples. Indeed this permits for a quick stop!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The trails starts fogging and raining. The fun part starts!</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Off from Miki trails towards WS3 at Kiau Nulu</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The trail dropped steeply into single-file tracks around the rubber plantation with giant manmade steps. All tracks are now puddled with cold water as the trail hugs closely along the hillside, and it was awesome! I caught up with a train of runners, and continued at their pace after passing through was not possible. After having gone through few private house compounds, I could see a trait similar to their homes – chicken coups and fish ponds are common to sustain their families. Soon we reached a tarred road, and this led us to a long stretch to reach WS4. I stopped temporarily at the WS4 to check my name. Currently listed at no.98, I signed, refilled my bladder and off I went back to the tarmac. Sprinting in the rain, I quickly missed a marker going downhill steeply, but thanks to the local boys watching us from their perching balconies some 10m above, I backtracked towards their pointing hands and lips. Phew, Lucky it was just a good 20m…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The trail dropped fast and my New Balance MT Trail worked well despite being fully dry running in FRIM the past weeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At the valley, we passed a school with cheering kids, before the deteriorated road climbs some 2.7km which does not seem to end. Luckily this track is combined with many numbers of 25K runners, so we killed time to chat away and make jokes about ourselves. Soon enough, the Finish banner for them (lucky bastards!) stretched in front of us, and we headed down for a water station.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There was a buffet spread, but all 50K and 100K runners were refused access to it, so I (accidentally) took solace to the few sundry shops with junk food. My reserves were running low with my tongue burning from the asam boi since morning. I must have looked like a complete idiot, eating Mamee packs, with a Coke can. I share this trait with Ashe EK as he gleefully chomped on his rewards. It must have fuelled him good because I lost him there temporarily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Stage 5 “The Road Rage” starts with Kg. Kiau Taburi, and I have a companionship of Ashe EK again, together with few more. We did not talk, but moved in perfect sync between the necessity to walk, jog, or run. We quickly huddled past the overgrown bushes and waterfalls and dispersed when we hit the tarmac towards Bundu Tuhan. Here, the drivers are a lot more considerate and patient – no honks whatsoever. Even big trucks slowed down and gave us runners bigger berth to trot along. Passengers of one car handed out to a bar of Kinder Bueno!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Mount Kinabalu peeking after the rain. One day I shall return</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We came at a junction towards Jalan Kinasaraban into meandering gravel road. I looked up and the sky is getting darker. It was around 4:00 p.m., and I hurried away, peeling from the group. The trail is wide, and knowing runners are within visibility both beyond and back gave me confidence to run alone. This went on passed WS5 at Kg. Kinasaraban, as we passed many deserted trails as runners as far apart now. I put on my headlamp after WS5 just before venturing alone into the remote homes. And their dogs are fiercer at night. There are times, when coerced, I had to stand my ground with headlamp straight into their eyes, and bark back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It is completely dark now, and I couldn’t see any runners around me, but felt completely safe (apart from the dogs) to run on my own. The reflective markers are sufficiently located at most places (easily spotted too), while unnervingly sparse at some selected stretches, and the trails are dry. All of a sudden, I found myself running into vegetable farms, and boy, the trails are tractionless! But thanks to my pole, I managed the downhills with no embarrassing fall, although by now my shoes are completely caked with mud. I passed few runners on the verge on quitting, as I was also reflecting to do the same. But I could feel the air of defeat in their response upon acknowledging me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As the farm ended into a village, the gravel road brings me along muted stretches with guys smoking and watching the tales of runners streaming by. That road broke into main road, and I was on my way to WS6, which is the halfway mark – to look forward to warm food and hot coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At the transition area, I signed in, collected the food voucher and went to the holding tent. The drop bags are sorted in a bizarre manner I could not understand, as the drop bags and finisher’s bags are mixed with no numbering sequence whatsoever. Alas, they located my bad within 2 minutes despite my unnecessary frustrated voices. Headed off to café, and sat down with a plate of steamed rice, black-pepper chicken, stir fry mixed vegetables and steamed potatoes. I topped that with some coffee, hot soup, and some porridge.As usual, I had to force fuel right after my 20K run, let alone this monstrous 50K.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But I caught up with Aiman, who was finishing his meal, so we made a pact to run together on this night stretch. By daylight next morning, we’re on our own. Sounds like a good plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>My trusted first 50K pole, and second half poles are waiting to get into action<br />(LEKI Trekking Poles courtesy of CaptainG)</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Note : Both Azlan Aiman and myself are virgin 100K runner, and 100K Ultra Trail at that.<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We changed and geared for the cold night. By now, the medics have cleaned all my blisters and put on new dressing and it felt good. So without much drama, we signed out at 9:10 p.m. into the darkness, just as the winner came back in victory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Stage 7 “The Outbound” saw us catching up on many running friends and adventures, mainly for me having been away for so long. The sky opens up, and we keep our eyes on a lookout to the many potential hills around us – all balmy and high, that we are about to climb.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We reached WS7 at Kg. Kauluan, and see our position improved to no.78 (I think). After re-fueling and nose-picking, we headed off on a pretext to catch the 2 guys who just earlier left water station. As we followed the 2 lights in front of us some a kilometre away, we entered a vegetable farm again with cabbages, spring onions and whatnots. The track is filled with medium-sized round stones, all slippery and coated with fresh mud from runners before us. Not my favourite stretch of road, but we kept moving forward, fast-walking mostly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At an intersection, we veered left uphill to reach a tarmac section to proceed to WS8 where we encountered many strong <i>kwailohs</i> running down from WS9. As the road cuts through vast open land, the stars kisses the mountains and hills above us, and before long, we see dancing spotlights directing us into WS8.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">WS8 is above Mesilau, and the hall has a black Mount Kinabalu behind it, and it is freezing there. We hurried in for hot coffee, and the medics runs their ritual on me – cutting skins, cleaning wounds etc. We didn’t stay long when Yimster came in and delivered to us a heartbreaking news – a 10K loop from WS8 and back to the same station, then a WS9 across more cabbage patches and cold wet muddy trails. Their shoes are telling a telltale of how nasty it was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It was probably the loneliest stretch of the entire race if ran alone. But with Aiman, and 2 other guys, again we worked together to push through in powerwalks. At times when markers are so far apart, we spread ourselves out to spot them and bring the whole group together again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But the trails were horrendous. The endless patch seems endless with shredded cabbage on the trails - a coleslaw with mud, if you will. We slid, switched left and right, and hopped to find a good footing, but our shoes took the brunt, and heavy with multi-coated mud.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">After the patch comes long winding open track with concrete driveway, and some sections on gravel. It was already 3:00 a.m., and we all kept our silence and keep plugging away. We all wanted to get this done and out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Nonetheless, we reached WS9 – all groggy and sleep-deprived. Our torchlight guides were snoring by the road side, wrapped in thick blanket as the temperature dropped. We were pleasantly surprised to see Zack still looking jolly and strong here, having just arrived at WS8. After few more shots of strong coffee, food and more clean dressing for the blisters, we headed down, now running and taking advantage of the downhills, full aware that this is the final stretch of the last 24K or so. Both of us were elated, and look forward to finish this in 24 hours. We were naive!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Talk about self-sufficiency - mending my own blisters</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We ran the flats and downhills, and walked uphills. As the dawn breaks on us, we hurried to arrive at CP4 at Kg. Lipasu Baru. The villagers have just been awaken and rattling with activities, but we could see further down the trail – a long snaky tarred road uphill to reach the last water station. I think both of us gasped at that prospect but there was no time to assess the situation. Strategy was to run/walk and conquer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We arrived at the foot of that road, and I bid farewell to Aiman as I sat down to add more blister patches to prepare myself for the long track up, and more downhill runs. I reached the last water station – WS10 at Kg. Kibbas, and saw Aiman is just 5 minutes ahead of me. But the long climb before WS10 has a little bit of pull so I sat down at the water station where they served me a plate of steaming Maggi, some rambutans and water. A short break, but getting up was hard, and on my out crossing the highway, I stepped on a rock, and twisted my left knee a little. Not exactly what I need with the remaining 11.8K but I have no choice but to move on. My left calf was shutting down and stopped to cooperate. I chomped on my last asam boi reserve, ORS and gulped some water, and double-taped the left knee guard, and moved on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Thanks to the volunteers - I managed this simple breakfast<br />(missing here are the rambutans)</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Off WS10 towards Kundasang</b></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQ-3_D_gqAiuJEa7VP8EFw7bLG9G-wRQl-Zie9p0rtXv8DFs8bio8DZBN6WLxZGLjzQFhhBk01rOrtGPZyZClIyNJi64QNqsFfyGERJ1p6nW4WYgbRdn7-z-g7GQfeYN5OVS7KlwQnY3I/s1600/IMG_0372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQ-3_D_gqAiuJEa7VP8EFw7bLG9G-wRQl-Zie9p0rtXv8DFs8bio8DZBN6WLxZGLjzQFhhBk01rOrtGPZyZClIyNJi64QNqsFfyGERJ1p6nW4WYgbRdn7-z-g7GQfeYN5OVS7KlwQnY3I/s640/IMG_0372.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Thanks girls - hope you've enjoyed the candies</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I passed my last collection of Mars bars and candies to the girls cheering along the last house, and hobbled along as I grit my teeth whenever the pain shoots up with every move. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Having passed the civilization near the mouth of the road, the tarmac branches off to a smaller, redundant road leading to Kundasang. The tarmac stretch is broken at few areas due to soil settlement, and evident that no traffic goes through here. It immediately stopped and continued on with gravels and turfing stretches.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">This is not going to be easy! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Well, expectedly, few runners passed me, and one of them quipped how this year’s SAC experience taught him how brutal a hill we are about to climb – a sheer 5K of non-stop climb. And he didn’t lie. No sirree… he did not joke about this one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">After a river crossing where I made futile attempt to rinse off dirt from the Cascadia, the trail climbs gradually, and climb, and climb. It snakes along the many hills combined, sometimes bridging between them, crossing over, but climbing nonetheless. The markers are adequate, and I was surrounded by lonely trees on both sides with open sky above me. It must have been around 8:00 a.m. as the scorching sun pierced my eyes. Time and time again, I could see and hear the traffic from the highway below en-route to Kundasang. But apart from that stretch of road, the rest are green.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have been cursing loudly at them hills somewhere along the way, as I sipped very little off my bladder to keep my reserves. My mental is failing, as I badly needed company. Few times I stopped and waited if Deo or Azhar or Saufi would come from behind so it won’t be so boring. But all didn’t work, so in between the cursing and endless goddamn turns, I finally reached the T-junction, and upon reaching a village, I was assured that the trails towards the Perkasa is not that far ahead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But man, at this point, a kilometer feels like forever. However, my perseverance paid off, I managed to catch few runners, who were blazing before me at WS10 earlier, and I kept cursing at the hills and the never-ending curves. I could see a structure atop the hill, and the motion upward is set towards that while I visually focus on keep moving ahead. I arrived at a tarmac stretch, and soon a gated building, and slightly deflated knowing that it is not the Perkasa building. But I started to jog as I feel shots of adrenalin kicking in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I suppose if I would have reserve energy in me, those wouldn’t be that hard. But the emotionally draining moments knowing I’m slipping past the cut-off time is really staggering. The final 500m, I had an officer who pointed me at the right direction, and I was on the home stretch! Then I could hear some announcement, and some music as I picked up pace. The mind shuts the pain and I temporarily forget my weak knees as I come through lines of pine trees. That corner! My heart is pumping! Damn it! why didn't this happen in the last 10K? I would have gotten back earlier!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjz7_y7Ar3oVw7XJuFJe-g3qE5WCSGPh4OwFGNECpCU1NGQVHK-ETSDxcId0x55gSM-Yo48IVDYrkf5NPmzdL_mJvQy55etLWuhx6BXgFmUTKxvAGzT8nPyWkuImf8oCApA3Uf2dEwme57/s1600/547776_10201312980779583_2026862930_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjz7_y7Ar3oVw7XJuFJe-g3qE5WCSGPh4OwFGNECpCU1NGQVHK-ETSDxcId0x55gSM-Yo48IVDYrkf5NPmzdL_mJvQy55etLWuhx6BXgFmUTKxvAGzT8nPyWkuImf8oCApA3Uf2dEwme57/s640/547776_10201312980779583_2026862930_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Digging deep! 200m to go<br />(photo credit : KW Leong)</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8W1_MCS1krbsSZjZi0-zYseJsIaqXHHBmmLXCC7UVXeS0k6doRY900PK6jugPxDggxhWhZF_PsxC0l3nYxtRX2WSCkCPucfmTstHVUGCvygGI8lTT_21kDVS65Gt3i2SmhlnOIh0BmQCs/s1600/1273183_10201065333208575_1862699009_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8W1_MCS1krbsSZjZi0-zYseJsIaqXHHBmmLXCC7UVXeS0k6doRY900PK6jugPxDggxhWhZF_PsxC0l3nYxtRX2WSCkCPucfmTstHVUGCvygGI8lTT_21kDVS65Gt3i2SmhlnOIh0BmQCs/s640/1273183_10201065333208575_1862699009_o.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Happy to be home! Finally!<br />(photo credit : Vivien Tay)</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg117283Sa_UNzqNfnAwvzwoTuzQO2mpFDGR_oJ9PGa03FAGFrEEWc6vfDkp5ats6Q2O-xZYFYVaC9m1i7ER_yMGZ8dVU8Mgr7a2oqA9BlsdbnV_G_84IpF1uCdW6BIqaZH7hL4AThLFQEL/s1600/IMG_0373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg117283Sa_UNzqNfnAwvzwoTuzQO2mpFDGR_oJ9PGa03FAGFrEEWc6vfDkp5ats6Q2O-xZYFYVaC9m1i7ER_yMGZ8dVU8Mgr7a2oqA9BlsdbnV_G_84IpF1uCdW6BIqaZH7hL4AThLFQEL/s640/IMG_0373.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">TMBT has one of the best medic team!<br />And the best supplies!</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Final bend is where I see Leong from KC & the Sunshine Runners with his camera – I was ecstatic! I turned left to more people by the road, clapping and cheering, perhaps Whye Yee calling my name. And then, I heard crowd calling me, and I looked up to see Catman, Aini, Sab, Aiman etc up on the terrace, and man – that was uplifting. In a matter of second, there was a sudden gash of emotional overload as I saw my kids inside my head, and the stupid hills I just came from – how relentless and unforgiving those were.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I entered the gantry, and it is over! The whole 104km of them trails are over!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I had the medal put over my head, and they shoved me my Finisher’s T-shirt as I stood at the registration counter – quietly sobbing and nodding my head down before the aunties. <i>What, lah</i>. I suppose there are things beyond your control, and this was one of them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is a saying that when you finish a marathon, it changes you. But I didn’t actually get that feeling, even when crossing my first marathon back in 2009, so I was wondering what the hell was wrong with me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But last Sunday, crossing that line after all the struggle, pain and coming to terms with myself, it literally moved me. Damn you TMBT!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Almost immediately when we reached Kota Kinabalu, fresh from TMBT trails - I made a promise to return to this beautiful state. All the pain magically disappear into thin air, which is a deadly concoction with so many outrageous trails here in Sabah. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-19283083279170336142012-06-25T20:02:00.001-07:002012-06-25T20:04:48.929-07:00Golden Invitation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I remember the smell of Makkah.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The pungent citrus smell of a triple detergent in the air every few hours when the cleaners parades with the red tapes and shuffles the pilgrims out of their way, and the workers inside sweeping in tandem with brushing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I remember seeing the Kaabah the first time and froze. Entering the mosque from the clock tower entry, passed the internal prayer halls into the sight of hustling pilgrims, circling, and there it is - the Kaabah draped in black cloth and golden threads. Men and women of all sizes, shapes and age moves about the tawaf, praying, resting, reading Quran under the watch of the Royal army.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj92R9FX3zAQa5fH-ObYbraTqs6Hwk2zjM2-48Kt-4XlKJop7p3jLl8mJBqC1GkyvA0XAJC9Y08jcROSg_KSJ25V3hwgskTVWlXITrhDGQV_MnbAVr7wTSX-LUwjheEX9iAjIn9VfdolbEa/s1600/IMG_2045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj92R9FX3zAQa5fH-ObYbraTqs6Hwk2zjM2-48Kt-4XlKJop7p3jLl8mJBqC1GkyvA0XAJC9Y08jcROSg_KSJ25V3hwgskTVWlXITrhDGQV_MnbAVr7wTSX-LUwjheEX9iAjIn9VfdolbEa/s400/IMG_2045.jpg" vca="true" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Outside, I remember the crazy human traffic and old dusty cars, and the sickening haphazard buildings on cliffs, and dots of starry lights from the little homes hugging the hills at night. The aroma of lamb beriyani, trickle of cold zam-zam water down my throat on a long, hot day after tawaf and sa'ei, and the blue sky.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I remember worrying I might contract some diseases, being too close to too much crowd. I worried about sudden end of my wudhu', and thinking too much if I had missed a single routine of an ihram.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember being lost in time. I remember being lost in people hurrying between Safa and Marwah, and lost between the doa when performing my tawafs, and sounds of prayers to the greatness of Allah. I clearly remember the sound of glorious azan, and the cool breeze sweeping the top tier of Masjidil Haram. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I remember the sight of Nabi Ibrahim a.s.'s footprints, the serenity of praying in the Hijr Ismail, and the tumultuous that of by the Hajarul Aswad. I remember passing by Rasulullah s.a.w's tomb in Masjidil Nabawi, and the cemetery of Baqi's and Uhud. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mkL2p8gots5CVhT-DCxUsiuGUu1X4kTEAI2Zi5QiQWpNn3GVv98rCB30GqibIpnDFFW7k7zy4AjaNqvPb5rJZJJUS0nyoWB2rLBF0A_3Ikl4hHR_QOWLcPqQS5nRiSvdQFoufl8OZGbW/s1600/IMG_2173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mkL2p8gots5CVhT-DCxUsiuGUu1X4kTEAI2Zi5QiQWpNn3GVv98rCB30GqibIpnDFFW7k7zy4AjaNqvPb5rJZJJUS0nyoWB2rLBF0A_3Ikl4hHR_QOWLcPqQS5nRiSvdQFoufl8OZGbW/s400/IMG_2173.jpg" vca="true" width="298" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mkL2p8gots5CVhT-DCxUsiuGUu1X4kTEAI2Zi5QiQWpNn3GVv98rCB30GqibIpnDFFW7k7zy4AjaNqvPb5rJZJJUS0nyoWB2rLBF0A_3Ikl4hHR_QOWLcPqQS5nRiSvdQFoufl8OZGbW/s1600/IMG_2173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have been so lucky to have been invited into these holy lands - Alhamdulillah. It felt like I was transported back in time where for thousands of years, mankind visited the Kaabah in just 2 simple cloths and belt around my expanding waistline. Although I must admit that due to the urgency and sudden visit, I was short of truly immersed in the spirit of pilgrimage, and may not know the very purpose I was there, but I felt truly blessed. I did feel close to God. I felt I was home. That is a weird feeling to have when I have a family thousands of miles away, waiting for me to return, but that was how I felt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At the same time, the progress is in full steam ahead around Kaabah with the expansion of Jabal Omar, Jabal Indi, the second ring road, Makkah Metro and other smaller, equally aggressive developments nearby. With the increasing demand for accommodation during Hajj, and the blurred line between pilgrimmage periods, human traffic is enormous and the thirst for air-conditioned hotel rooms and lobbies is taking far better importance to the ritual itself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It is easy to understand the growth of this Islamic metropolitan, that the price of development is a fragment to creating comfort to the pilgrims. It is just bizarre to see the origin Muslims of Makkah is being chased further away towards the brim of the Haram circle, and likes of international hotels chains moving closer to the Kaabah.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">It is also a growing sights to see that regardless of the unique place that Makkah is, people will evolve to visit this city with their comfort food, lattes and designer labels.</span></div>
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</div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-31338759073005972452012-06-21T00:14:00.001-07:002012-06-21T00:14:42.261-07:00Bent<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">4 months in between is all it takes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">You look back and ask yourself - my God, what have I done to myself? To put things into perspectives, I was given a new portfolio in the office, and being a boutique designer that we are - I found myself sitting in the most important department in the office. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">To put it mildly, as mentioned by my Director - quote, unquote "climbing the ladders".</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That ladder comes along with an extra kilograms that hides my quads, hamstrings etc. I guess I have a big family now, hence the ladder is welcomed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We always blame something for an untoward bad events - I do all the time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Like bad traffic in Ampang would cut short my planed 20k in KLCC to a screeching 5.2k.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Or political instability and terrorism alert in the US would stop me entering the NYC Marathon ballot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">(just saying...)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Something like that...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But the turn of events that were presented to me earlier this year were, well, a blessing. I could not have been more lucky, I suppose.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We were invited for an international design competition for a development in Makkah. Right in the second week of SCKLM training when we received the RFP. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Without a doubt, I agreed with a resounding yes when the BigBoss offered me a place to lead the team. Are you kidding me? Free trips to the Holy City? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As it turned out, I did manage the whole competition with the final presentation last weekend in Riyadh. Along the way, I visited the Masjidil Haram and Madinah twice (Alhamdulillah), thanks to our relatives residing in Makkah itself who drove me around at odd hours of the day, taking cues of the thinning crowd from the live telecast on the telly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">But the long hours and stress equalled to comfort food, and most importantly, severe lack of sleep is the main culprit that threw me off my normal eating pattern.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have entered another food dimension, and truly enjoyed the succulent and juicy lamb, especially the briyani and butter rice, curry, dhals, fouls, etc etc etc etc. It makes me sick just thinking of them now, punching letters at my workstation. To be on foreign land and not enjoying their food is an understatement. But enjoying without moderation was a big mistake. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I blame it on the odd working hours and timezones.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">See, convenience.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">This weekend is the Marathon weekend. Many running comrades will stuff themselves silly and drink like a camel. Most will stock on gels, tablets, rubs, plasters and downloaded latest favorite running songs onto their mp3 players, and printing pacing targets.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I misses that. I haven't seen my running comrades in months!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have not decided where I'll be when this Sunday comes. This depends to a lot of things. We might have to fly on a whim for a presentation, so I won't put my feet down just yet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At the moment, I need to start getting myself together and be on a path to lose all these pounds I have gained, and back on track - whatever that means. Back to climbing the ladders, or back to lose myself silly trying to achieve a sub-4.30.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anyway, I am keeping my head up. Returning to Bukit Aman soon.</span></div>
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</div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-29533704194930158892012-02-03T12:15:00.000-08:002012-02-03T12:15:35.332-08:00Back to Basics<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It has been a year since my last trip to Kiara trails. I remembered the last run led by Alwin, and the X-Country race (when Kash won first place!) and that was that. At the back of my mind, when circling FRIM almost every Saturday, I wanted to relinquish the elusive trails once more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">With the fear of missing my way and ending up in remote places, alone, I opted to join the Trail Runners but after many failed attempts to coordinate meeting time and dates, I missed their various meets to tag the trails. Luckily, some running friends are kind enough to join me to tag our own tracks, and that sounded like a good plan.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmAl_dErdRR9bnE7FZkcolG0HPDxoy4jLroX0F6zwk1v3XtvCkOJ1QPsZUrV53Uek3V-0a57-i1DjTXHp53YI1TFSxHoVhDJTaPybeGbqqiWIjryjlVMGnUnCLM4IP2AZExhf_6rrde7af/s1600/IMG_1264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmAl_dErdRR9bnE7FZkcolG0HPDxoy4jLroX0F6zwk1v3XtvCkOJ1QPsZUrV53Uek3V-0a57-i1DjTXHp53YI1TFSxHoVhDJTaPybeGbqqiWIjryjlVMGnUnCLM4IP2AZExhf_6rrde7af/s400/IMG_1264.jpg" width="298" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">First time back to Kiara, armed with a generic map from FakawiTribe.com, Nik, Shanaz, Kash, Catman and myself headed left from the carpark, and soon followed the outer trail through the 'Flinstones Playground', into the 'Around the Mountain' trail. The trail is tough with steep inclines and sharp rocks, super slippery from the heavy rains the night before. Regardless, the cool weather did not hamper our spirit, more so running with the 'Queen of Kiara' who's in KL for a short weekend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The trail is a little deserted, perhaps not advisable to run alone, but possible if you have to. Along the way, there are a lot of plastic-filled latex from the rubber trees - a sure sign of the morning-people tending the trees. Mobile coverage was superb, so a (less expensive, albeit secondary) handphone is handy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Beyond the water tank, the trails started to branch out in multiple directions, and the map is no longer traceable. We have lost our bearing, and everytime we stop at junctions, it was a guessing game when we either decide to climb up, or sprint down. More so, we maintained on the obvious trails over the conspicuous smaller trails. At many points, we bumped into weekend trekkers, mostly jolly in pre-Chinese New Year mood, and we were off again. The trails are generally well maintained, and sometimes we follow the paper trails only to get confused at multiple junctions. Sometimes we hit the single tracks, switchbacks, and platforms. For instance the <i>Simpang Lima</i> that has 6-7 branches at the same place. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Regardless, we branched out from the trail onto the tarmac, and headed down, and back into the carpark.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The second week into Kiara, we came armed with a pair of scissors and a roll of fuschia-coloured ribbon, courtesy of Shanaz. We were on a mission!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was joined by Daniel, Nik, Shanaz and new daddy-Meor on another slow-and-steady Kiara trails. We hit the tarmac first to get ahead of ourselves tackling easier '2K' and '4K' trails, hopefully bump into the new 'Magic Carpet' trail. Again we lost our bearing as the map does not match the trails. However, we tagged some trees along the way, what we thought a full '2K' loop. None of Karen's green and blue ribbons were spotted. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZkcPjCeiXBMxfK7LH1KvRaxEYmyKz85j-cfUhrp2veSO48oofyu_cMZuGkpODF2s9cNhRcturtwluC1x1aSaFiUY7BbegrFVLLG9QohLkNCWa5PFhrO9A2ljdk6-SiBVV97f4f1RuU8l/s1600/IMG_1368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZkcPjCeiXBMxfK7LH1KvRaxEYmyKz85j-cfUhrp2veSO48oofyu_cMZuGkpODF2s9cNhRcturtwluC1x1aSaFiUY7BbegrFVLLG9QohLkNCWa5PFhrO9A2ljdk6-SiBVV97f4f1RuU8l/s400/IMG_1368.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As we came back into the tarmac, some one hour later, we came around the crossroad again, and went into the 'Snake & Ladders', 'Dirty Devils' into the 'Twin Peaks' (yeahoo!), 'Around the Mountain', along the water tank, and back into the 'Flinstone's Playground'. If I was right, the total distance was around 10k. Overall it was a good day out running.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I would assume that the shorter '2K' and '4K' trails, and the new 'Magic Carpet' trail is achievable if you want to run some alone time, but the other longer trails may need more familiarising to do, and more guts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I wonder - if anything happens in the trails, who'd we call for help? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Touch wood - but it is amazing when we runners are so fragile in the woods since we do not have the speed of a bike. Even running in packs, runners would still easily be vulnerable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the mean time, Kiara exploration shall continue. </span></div>
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<br /></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-84394365318745072402012-02-01T22:14:00.000-08:002012-02-01T22:17:30.676-08:00How You Doing...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTz9jB0g5sl4O9VLay8-rowPwBFp2ZYLeBOFsYZlJfkpnT1VYD_agTiH2XPX1DHjpvVna-M-ghRYQbcHRasc5SvVZfCuVqvzUGvifSiW6_AvBfRycmSdukT5SpPoiiK6eWz3GJm1fHihXv/s1600/IMG_1423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTz9jB0g5sl4O9VLay8-rowPwBFp2ZYLeBOFsYZlJfkpnT1VYD_agTiH2XPX1DHjpvVna-M-ghRYQbcHRasc5SvVZfCuVqvzUGvifSiW6_AvBfRycmSdukT5SpPoiiK6eWz3GJm1fHihXv/s400/IMG_1423.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Last night felt especially weird. On our bed, there was a frail baby between us, but Aiden has already joined Iris in the next bedroom. It felt like it was just few weeks ago when we had Aiden, all wrapped and motionless. It was the first time it struck me that we simply have 3 kids in our house. It was surreal, to say the least.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Batman Jr. was born 36 weeks, 2.4kg (5.3lbs), 08.37 hours, 30 January 2012.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Alhamdulillah syukur...</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thanks for all your kind wishes, and coming out of your way to visit us. </span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-56621153017260381072012-01-26T18:12:00.000-08:002012-01-26T18:12:04.104-08:00Out of Service<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Being in a food-loving country, we all have our favorite hangouts. The very least, I have one. A place I frequented on lazy weekends when nothing else in the world matters, when the laundry can wait, the car I could delay washing. A place where most staff knows me and my family.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But sooner or later, we'll end up having a bad time at what is supposed to be our favorite restaurant. And when that happens, you might be startled at how upset you will become. Surprised even, on the things that ticks you off. It probably won't be the food, or the 5-year-old ambience that's to blame. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I can always shrug off missing few shrimps in my curry mee, or lack of flavour in them, since the chef didn't mean to dissapoint me. But everyone takes poor service personally. Get my food with not a quirk of smile on her face finds me unworthy. Getting my drinks very late and I'll feel worse, because I would be expected to tip.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But I understand, poor service is the result of a restaurant having an unfortunate day. Perhaps the chef snapped at my waitress and made her sulk. More than likely, poor service could be inevitable, caused by a staff with less-than-interested spirit in you/me. It could also be the the fact I was having a bad day, and anxious at all the things around me, easily irritated even by the sight of slow moving snails in my path. This colossal chain of events, especially when we are so 'close' at heart, well, practically a second kitchen, caused multiple frictions. One bad day, everything came crashing chipping the plates. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When you have a place so dearly, we tend to overlook the details - prints on our glass, stains on the forks, dirty plates, soggy salads, pretentious meals, overpriced bills, etc. Because overall, we paid for the experience. We went again and again for the camaraderie, if you will. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But bad service leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Along with it goes the gargantuan laughter, the free-flowing <i>ais kosong</i>, shameless orders for ice-creams, and a group of people I fondly called friends. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I do not know whether I would risk visiting the place again, and face the possibility of another bad service. Scouting for another new good spot will take me years, so I do not know.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Sometimes I wonder why does things have to be complicated. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">(I heard what you are implying - that I am complicated. Apa-apalah...)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-13334833446928984582012-01-17T19:17:00.000-08:002012-01-17T19:17:17.376-08:00Reality Resolute and Everything Now<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">2012</span></b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Reality check.
Creative-check, I’d say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Indeed a cliché,
I look upon the new year with hopes to do better things. That’s all there is, <i>kan</i>? To be the better person, be a better
Muslim, spend more good quality family time, eat more healthily, run longer,
lose more weight, wardrobe makeover, learn more, swim more, cycle longer, get
new shoes, watch plays, collect the stamps, learn to play drums, help the
needy, participate in social services, donate blood, pass exams, grow organic
plants, get a cat, and more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It’s always
about more, bigger, better. <i>Subhanallah</i>,
what have I become?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It’s only
January, but we have all year mapped out. But I look up high for uncertainties
and spontaneous adventures to keep me going. But some realities are certain,
and already taking the front seats. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Reality 1 –
Batman Jr. is coming. Last time, before Aiden arrives, we managed a traffic
free bedroom when Iris moved into her own room at 3. Now, with Aiden still with
us, Batman Jr. will add more orchestra to our room. The playpen, swing, and
arrays of plush toys, not forgetting the diapers, ointments, extra towels and
the whole fiasco will take permanent residence in our room for another 3 years.
I cannot discount when there are many trying times when Iris would insist to
bunk with us (she’s a tad jealous). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It is just a
matter of days before we’d hurry to the hospital, and bunk at the hospital’s sofa
bed. And I am thankful our earlier decisions to buy baby stuff in neutral
colours are adaptable to Batman Jr. Had they all be in their pinks, we’d have
to round another shopping spree. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Reality 2 – Iris
started her first day in the mainstream school, and I spent the whole week
ferrying her around between morning and evening school. She took it like a real
sport – smiling and not worrying a thing. That’s what being at playschool since
4 would do. I can never get instrumental enough for her. I missed her when she’s
at school, and we’d secretly stopped for ice-cream, just the 2 of us, when I
picked her up from school as she’d go on about her new friends, school, etc.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It simply means
fitting her schedule against ours. Homeworks, tuitions, swim class, diet,
orderly sleeping time, campaign to run for presidency, world domination.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Reality 3 – I failed
one paper in my professional exams. I know I have never been the studious type
in the family, and my state of dyslexity makes it more difficult to understand
the stuff I was reading. And this year I have to have a go at it again, burying
myself in the codes of conducts, Acts, legislations. To be honest, I do not
surely know what to do with it yet, had I pass the papers. However, again, I
hope, things will fall into places and I’d be able to chart a better quality
life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Let’s see if I
am cut out to be one, once and for all. If not, perhaps I should join
Masterchef Malaysia Season 2 and cook varieties of Maggi Mee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And 2011 was not
mostly kind. I drifted a lot, not knowing where I was heading. After a
purposeful 2010, I spent half the time in 2011 worrying about trivial things. I
forgot to keep the little things that matters. Honestly, I forgot most things I
did last year. The most memorable events are when we found out about Batman
Jr., and how I suffered in TNF100 and SCKLM, our family (shopping) trip, and
Amy Winehouse’s passing. I think I have been overly complacent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And it is 2012.
The year the Mayans predicted the end of the world. On the very day before my
38<sup>th</sup> birthday. Or so they predicted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Looking back to
a mediocre 2011, I have better hopes for this year. As much as I aspired to
become a philanthropist, or a successful Chef, but for the purpose more fitting
for the contents of this blog and its kind readers; my head revolves around how
to enjoy my 7<sup>th</sup> marathon. Singular because, I have only 1 planned
for 2012. It is more that a mouthful. To break the 4:45 comfortably, and
injury-free. Perhaps by June, my shining Newton will be worn and seasoned for
the adventure across KL City. But so far, every dates I have with her gives me
a specific blister on my right toes. Love hurts, eh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But in all
honesty, I will have to be more creative to find ways (and time) to enjoy some
alone time. Although most ideals always dwells down the idea of having a maid
around, I’d have to be more resourceful. The immediate target is morning runs,
which conveniently slots between dropping the girls off, and work that I have a
sweet 75minutes alone. And although after-works are still favourable due to its
crowd and chick factor – soon wifey would insist an earlier curfew in view of
Batman Jr.’s feeding time. The only good thing is she’d be in a 3-months leave!
Hopefully that should be good enough for my 18-months training for SCKLM.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But what’s
beyond that will sap away my creative juice. If any of you who are in the same
situation as me, please share your wisdom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In terms of
personal achievements, I see no shame in trying to go longer, faster, etc when
it’s in my (and our) nature to see progress. Only last weekend during the FTAAA
X-Country at Padang Merbuk, I sniffed the air for the excitement of small
races, and the small hidden trails on the tray sparked the excitement of
Genting Trailblazer. Small, short 10K races were the ones I started with, and
perhaps it’s the way it should be for this year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">With 2011’s
addiction to Cheezels and banana cakes, I hope that is a phase I could press on
ahead without. It will be interesting to see how the mediocre cooking expertise
to match the Australia’s Junior Masterchef’s offerings when I whip everyday
food for Iris’s breakfasts, morning snacks, and afternoon snacks… as well as
all of mine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Happy New You,
everyone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-73424677824295174432011-12-19T21:31:00.000-08:002011-12-19T21:31:27.593-08:00Review - Bukit Pelindung Escapade<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I
found out about this trail from Meor’s Dailymile entry. Again, this reinforces
the fact that such opportunities are available when one seeks it out, but if oblivions
are at large, <i>gajah depan mata pun tak nampak</i>.
And while Kuantan is a beautiful place to live in, I share a special connection
to this birthplace of mine. Traffic is easy and their drivers are not annoying,
a lot of beautiful beaches, <i>mee calong</i>,
<i>keropok</i> and fresh seafood off Tanjung
Api and Beserah market.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Therefore,
a short getaway was welcomed, and with anticipation of this Bukit Pelindung
that Meor has gotten all prepped up, almost exclusively. I was quite sure its
regular patrons, mostly elderly making their morning rounds does not blog about
it. Quite understandable, the younger regulars in Bukit Pelindung are mostly
MTBers as documented in few youtubes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It’s
the monsoon season, and the morning I spent tossing around looking at the rain
outside was futile. I needed to see this trail Meor talked about for months, but
I was trying to stay away from any cold. In my aunt’s kitchen, I could smell <i>nasi lemak</i> boiling and the sound of
dried chilli paste being fried with <i>belacan</i>.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Tak boleh jadi ni</i>…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thanks
to a skill I almost perfected over years of late morning runs, I grabbed my
running bag by the door, reached for the keys and phone, and went out. At least
my wife knows where I’d be going.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The
location of the RV area into Bukit Pelindung is not apparent, so if coming from
Beserah/Kuantan area into Teluk Chempedak, look out for Sekolah Afzan on your
right (after Sekolah Menengah Teknik), and the entry is on your left where you’d
see lots of bungalows, and a road leading up to a hill where you’ll see an
apartment on your left after these houses. Lots of cars are usually parked by
the roadside. But by the time I reached the parking area at the foot of Bukit
Pelindung, it was drizzling and no one was there. Don’t be afraid when you are
greeted by many dogs howling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SepYDtDfvXLSa-f9-luCgwD9draxNd5pMqrpW7iJnxTq_4MtcgANtA38W4tmF5QnlMmsiR5_uDONZLWm67Agai3VSimy1lh_xttP32uGnM5XOXjVEbRrzSMCHGfShdpwAInfUadZOOBF/s1600/IMG_0907.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6SepYDtDfvXLSa-f9-luCgwD9draxNd5pMqrpW7iJnxTq_4MtcgANtA38W4tmF5QnlMmsiR5_uDONZLWm67Agai3VSimy1lh_xttP32uGnM5XOXjVEbRrzSMCHGfShdpwAInfUadZOOBF/s400/IMG_0907.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK5XQ5M8y5tX3-vNOPY91tvB0ecTkQBcIt6uoiDKINEJ7zQIYi-rAuQ7N1IMi1VOl1dYpandI6zLAlbF4rV2ahGL24t-qFud4xuWt_o84pAp9QZTfET_-hSWa2oyDg5KVRvXYmenf00r-P/s1600/IMG_0910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK5XQ5M8y5tX3-vNOPY91tvB0ecTkQBcIt6uoiDKINEJ7zQIYi-rAuQ7N1IMi1VOl1dYpandI6zLAlbF4rV2ahGL24t-qFud4xuWt_o84pAp9QZTfET_-hSWa2oyDg5KVRvXYmenf00r-P/s400/IMG_0910.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Going
up, almost immediately I hit face first on a steep incline. I decided to walk
up after a bad case of lower back pulls on Friday. Walking/running up the
tarmac road, which leads to Telekom towers and their cool-weather office at the
top of the hill, is taxing, like going up the Steroid Hill, times 3 – as the
road meanders up and up and up into a seemingly never ending climbs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But
the climb is littered with awesome collection of forestry plantings with
Meranti, Mempening, Merang, Balau, Keruing etc etc, and deep gorges below that
dips just next to the walkway. With no railings, this is a place kids may need
to be watched closely. And the road has a lot of resting benches by the
roadside to rest, almost at every 100m. I had to turn off my music, and listen
to the raindrops falling on the leaves, and the sound of the faunas. Thick fog
descended upon me at times, and it was pretty cold, considering I went up in my
skimpy running shorts and Salomon’s drifit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKNNCgrTwECG2qVNU_yZdkayHLmzcTgKTZhzVl6_t6_brRItOUZZoiLo52M_1r8ql-82KbrG6JnHfsnPA5t18RBtVkjpzArCv3MqbD07ymeoN6bZMs4vT27fgZ7C5FGS8d0u0zbfY0Nyl/s1600/IMG_0914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKNNCgrTwECG2qVNU_yZdkayHLmzcTgKTZhzVl6_t6_brRItOUZZoiLo52M_1r8ql-82KbrG6JnHfsnPA5t18RBtVkjpzArCv3MqbD07ymeoN6bZMs4vT27fgZ7C5FGS8d0u0zbfY0Nyl/s640/IMG_0914.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The
view on top of Bukit Pelindung is a bit of a let down, as I expected to see
Kuantan’s skyline and rolling beaches from Teluk Chempedak into Pantai Batu
Hitam, but the reserve jungle is still thick and high, all I could see were
ferns, trees, and few telecommunication towers strutting beyond the fogs like
Alton Towers in winter. The road ends at the Telekom office (must be one hell
of an office), and it is road down to the start. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnBbgv8U3FRJ86UHUM0zP043JoibKSJDtWUr-dfjpEjz7-bqN9EwGRsShQY5imEot_Cs_TdB2ckjELLAWzs-jlgxlQNALQuJPmU43XaRS2EWBHeXfSZSIWs4Cu2rhyakiXLzUwmpcqYnzv/s1600/IMG_0931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnBbgv8U3FRJ86UHUM0zP043JoibKSJDtWUr-dfjpEjz7-bqN9EwGRsShQY5imEot_Cs_TdB2ckjELLAWzs-jlgxlQNALQuJPmU43XaRS2EWBHeXfSZSIWs4Cu2rhyakiXLzUwmpcqYnzv/s400/IMG_0931.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifq-nEMwjvbkjEvSHilUksCJ-ZJVfcW7eSlPy8PacwRvFWDrjBU_9cBzVm4efGC2izg1cyWmPLVWbrrXRtVXnjgTBy94Goa_cCDRyeebv_DsWxtXGbNtxGi5edv5He4Cy3O4zRJh2ARRxM/s1600/IMG_0932.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifq-nEMwjvbkjEvSHilUksCJ-ZJVfcW7eSlPy8PacwRvFWDrjBU_9cBzVm4efGC2izg1cyWmPLVWbrrXRtVXnjgTBy94Goa_cCDRyeebv_DsWxtXGbNtxGi5edv5He4Cy3O4zRJh2ARRxM/s400/IMG_0932.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhaZitGbLsR7PlRJUz2n3RHqTstH1iRcruiSVQ5qfDsZra78GZDDK_pKij3tuJISMJL1R4ZmJAchDBvqUWWh_b2AcVQ4CcNgyvnbAdokOqROkNgwr6Rv0FjZC8GGTy5pR_i4dC0acolUpi/s1600/IMG_0933.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhaZitGbLsR7PlRJUz2n3RHqTstH1iRcruiSVQ5qfDsZra78GZDDK_pKij3tuJISMJL1R4ZmJAchDBvqUWWh_b2AcVQ4CcNgyvnbAdokOqROkNgwr6Rv0FjZC8GGTy5pR_i4dC0acolUpi/s400/IMG_0933.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I
imagine it would be a cool and quick dash down, even with my Ghost and slippery
tarmac, I’d be down in 15 minutes tops. But some 100m from the towers, there
lies a secret detour into a trail. The walking track of 1.88km from that point
into the Teluk Chempedak beach itself has a 220m elevation on descent. I stood
there for a few minutes, weighing my options. By then, there were some 5
walkers plying the tarmac, few motorbikes and 2 trucks from Telekom revving up
between the last half hour. I wondered what I would encounter in the trails,
but it did not register anything as my heart was urging me to jump in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">‘Try
for 15mins’, my brain said. ‘If you don’t like it, turn back’. Ok, sounds like
a plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvY_Oxu-2rlAmuuLFtB3vMAHUHHv8ZKlWu9DgwvH4B0GvZbsqvcEJeT8tsLzcVHTsMQu2FXRyGEaAlX-qBg_dG1hbIgcEJOe-LGZHMWIJZHic7kyAOrv9Bcw5FEXPeSy_pNCBgadU5yfB/s1600/IMG_0921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvY_Oxu-2rlAmuuLFtB3vMAHUHHv8ZKlWu9DgwvH4B0GvZbsqvcEJeT8tsLzcVHTsMQu2FXRyGEaAlX-qBg_dG1hbIgcEJOe-LGZHMWIJZHic7kyAOrv9Bcw5FEXPeSy_pNCBgadU5yfB/s400/IMG_0921.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLVu8ZuR-pP4hyphenhyphenw82p6p1Q4B2pzHRB7XJljDZUy2-TBJHRqkVkholMkhHRMLbIBHHYXw3namG0H3W1afzDNdd_97TWJuSN3p6w14RymbH49_qjtD5mbiyHPTDIgtlr-q5P7rk6I4VVGkF/s1600/IMG_0920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLVu8ZuR-pP4hyphenhyphenw82p6p1Q4B2pzHRB7XJljDZUy2-TBJHRqkVkholMkhHRMLbIBHHYXw3namG0H3W1afzDNdd_97TWJuSN3p6w14RymbH49_qjtD5mbiyHPTDIgtlr-q5P7rk6I4VVGkF/s400/IMG_0920.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So
I swiftly entered into a trail, wet and water puddles everywhere. The rain has
stopped, and the fog disappeared, but I cannot make out of anything beyond
5metres to my side. Even the tarmac quickly disappeared once I entered the
trail. The only sign of civilization along the trail is the seats provided for
walkers to rest and soak in the experience.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACgQ0v2zsZADI6o8RWEH3hzZAjgULYpjoJZaYofkZivdHalaXBlizE0Ng9_J8VQbWNYo_YbewYjePb1Q0LlF_EtKargzF1h9J-ChpPvH1Ml7Vw8l8gRfbDR2nuTQ8j8Bh45_Dy2I17RIN/s1600/IMG_0935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACgQ0v2zsZADI6o8RWEH3hzZAjgULYpjoJZaYofkZivdHalaXBlizE0Ng9_J8VQbWNYo_YbewYjePb1Q0LlF_EtKargzF1h9J-ChpPvH1Ml7Vw8l8gRfbDR2nuTQ8j8Bh45_Dy2I17RIN/s400/IMG_0935.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So
I went. The first view was a steep climb on a staircase, into a hut. Then, the
trail gets deeper, and I forgot the 15minutes curfew as I dashed ahead into a
rolling trail. Although the trail was wet, but it was not super slippery as the
trail base is sand. But sometimes coming down boulders and heavy roots would
impose danger of sliding down butt first. But the trail is quiet and serene,
and air is crisp. There were not a lot of sounds except for the twigs and
leaves, but enough to keep me alert for incoming danger. The eyes kept looking
down for snakes, and I was forever worrying for wild boars, after seeing their
fresh dugs just outside the trail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">One
time, the Sony automatically plays a Coldplay where Chris Martin was almost
talking in his hit ‘Fix You’, I jolted with surprise as it sounded as if
somebody/thing whispered into my ears from my back. Seriously creepy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgabSO0H5W7Cs1xk_AKMeJSQ0z25cr9QiBsqNR9L8swGqacWngtW85VRTXbA_Iw4sRPrgYu61N9lyf3Sp1AHm_fo-HJmJZDLcqizUWO03JWdECt4RfVGUGEDrFxeQSk-G6rzfeaeio4d3B6/s1600/IMG_0942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgabSO0H5W7Cs1xk_AKMeJSQ0z25cr9QiBsqNR9L8swGqacWngtW85VRTXbA_Iw4sRPrgYu61N9lyf3Sp1AHm_fo-HJmJZDLcqizUWO03JWdECt4RfVGUGEDrFxeQSk-G6rzfeaeio4d3B6/s400/IMG_0942.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRy-v8JLW6DC_KboJxwMEShJLSep-al2rxu8SaPQ36GaZIBP9jOPtf_401TYqlffo4u8OXN3u-QBxFrKOuXIrEe2tHDnPSvr_oa1EkJumbQRNJfpDOsSv7e-6w_0llWrJOcvBUre8_iNkN/s1600/IMG_0945.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRy-v8JLW6DC_KboJxwMEShJLSep-al2rxu8SaPQ36GaZIBP9jOPtf_401TYqlffo4u8OXN3u-QBxFrKOuXIrEe2tHDnPSvr_oa1EkJumbQRNJfpDOsSv7e-6w_0llWrJOcvBUre8_iNkN/s400/IMG_0945.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmHRkrSS7I4kUr-g-SGb4Fgv9ttHHLmOfTqY5GbjGaykCtGyjiUJsSqbnzna5_kMsEQs80yKur0-S2VYnmbknQM_Y18pG85VYfk8vqdH42fGXGzP8_7KRina_L6mEZi8aZ6PfRfUR_OlN/s1600/IMG_0941.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmHRkrSS7I4kUr-g-SGb4Fgv9ttHHLmOfTqY5GbjGaykCtGyjiUJsSqbnzna5_kMsEQs80yKur0-S2VYnmbknQM_Y18pG85VYfk8vqdH42fGXGzP8_7KRina_L6mEZi8aZ6PfRfUR_OlN/s400/IMG_0941.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I
think halfway down, the trail started to branch out into many smaller trails.
Evidently enough, when it’s a place for MTBers, there are bound to have many
technical alternatives, which made me doubt certain tracks. But in the end I maintained
my strides on the big trail, and kept moving. There were times when I
encountered bushes thrown against the main trail, even tree trunks that fell
across from all the rain this season, but the trail is wide enough to read, so
it was ok. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But
like the Dream Trail, running alone is not so ideal. I was out of my comfort
zone, especially not knowing the trail at all, and where I would end up. The
only guy who knows about the trail is Meor, who was nursing his pregnant wife
in TTDI, and whether I’d see anyone running the trail at all. The trails are
similar, albeit remote to my liking, but it allows you to be aware of your
footing and the surrounding. And the Bukit Pelindung trail has a lot of dips
where you could fly down off the boulders and hills, or hurl yourself up if
coming from Teluk Chempedak. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not
long, I encountered a marked area, possibly recently used for a MTB event. And the
trail was becoming more confusing with many new additional trails branching out
which made me try some of those, backtracked and ahead. In the end, it is safe
to be on the main trail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9vN1HayzYhdbHczfEnFo4hRdnOwRjvUVzFRHlSxOlzNEaCt5de6RQusX5w0LDo3pn4URdhAcQ-aB09bMNMkVliCv6Eyi-FRg1xIOeC7DdclCFpHq0aMrAAiIba7rDi-XXCQawuqYvJmw/s1600/IMG_0943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM9vN1HayzYhdbHczfEnFo4hRdnOwRjvUVzFRHlSxOlzNEaCt5de6RQusX5w0LDo3pn4URdhAcQ-aB09bMNMkVliCv6Eyi-FRg1xIOeC7DdclCFpHq0aMrAAiIba7rDi-XXCQawuqYvJmw/s400/IMG_0943.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojVK9nOrbmXoIxvm2sQr_8bFrTDU6NXTG8xjuI2c21aOq3FnuKgK-8UPkPVQkyf_rxlUX-zOf8rv282qGgNpvwrQ6mPWKkbwrdh1zLnKBzg34C3iWCldTvu23Or3xls5Tq3hhO671VCOh/s1600/IMG_0944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojVK9nOrbmXoIxvm2sQr_8bFrTDU6NXTG8xjuI2c21aOq3FnuKgK-8UPkPVQkyf_rxlUX-zOf8rv282qGgNpvwrQ6mPWKkbwrdh1zLnKBzg34C3iWCldTvu23Or3xls5Tq3hhO671VCOh/s400/IMG_0944.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">However,
I did not bring any water and fuel (rookie mistake), and tackling the hills
sapped me out very quickly. But by then, I could already hear a splashing beach
below me, and within 15 minutes, a small window ahead draws a curtain and reveals the breathtaking beach at Teluk
Chempedak (although, the sea was like a whirpool). And that was it, Teluk
Chempedak in your face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FW5dpOhxSuZlazo4rJ5v-gn6O1RatAKje-gyBqG9LznSDw-25zOGYMo5sqVxJ7AZi3c2jQ0Vp051ArJ2Z-euhfO-CwV65dnuh9P3tP2Q-bYi7PJAG6picH1IjlTmfOjCHTQQ-It_i3f9/s1600/IMG_0947.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FW5dpOhxSuZlazo4rJ5v-gn6O1RatAKje-gyBqG9LznSDw-25zOGYMo5sqVxJ7AZi3c2jQ0Vp051ArJ2Z-euhfO-CwV65dnuh9P3tP2Q-bYi7PJAG6picH1IjlTmfOjCHTQQ-It_i3f9/s400/IMG_0947.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4D-5XUR9MTiHi075OpFyW4zH7zeN4JNvUuXyKDuMWbTVxhYiWRtMUy423tZZUIr6zNCJVvaZzIGOJg1fAiPASW1FvOoqMcmN3NHMbo0iqYihKak_Wtd2zY4FuzcvoYbdwAuaPypstDP8A/s1600/IMG_0948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4D-5XUR9MTiHi075OpFyW4zH7zeN4JNvUuXyKDuMWbTVxhYiWRtMUy423tZZUIr6zNCJVvaZzIGOJg1fAiPASW1FvOoqMcmN3NHMbo0iqYihKak_Wtd2zY4FuzcvoYbdwAuaPypstDP8A/s400/IMG_0948.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Hooray!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSiQU5oD_0H3abubmPnRjweNdyX2cZcrvRsp9N5ep2-nyE7YSy-tBXF1X8933WeMyoaCTCBBhtqoWTDxtBXG6VgXs3H5lE-F7d0QP9XxE495XCiSoqZ4rNPiVLYOXdapKMA53_eRsr8OM/s1600/IMG_0950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVSiQU5oD_0H3abubmPnRjweNdyX2cZcrvRsp9N5ep2-nyE7YSy-tBXF1X8933WeMyoaCTCBBhtqoWTDxtBXG6VgXs3H5lE-F7d0QP9XxE495XCiSoqZ4rNPiVLYOXdapKMA53_eRsr8OM/s400/IMG_0950.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIi9NWvdyn5Xkmgg_KblDf6VDEDTE0ufolxuBR4pAQGUePaK4yPny18x9d6eZPm6ZcOUjVnpCDk5Se5pwndG7qKnUxmLFpa_hlIfXrR5Wi4z2OfROQZukwdN0HXCSHgwbe8YS9CpwuojWV/s1600/IMG_0961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIi9NWvdyn5Xkmgg_KblDf6VDEDTE0ufolxuBR4pAQGUePaK4yPny18x9d6eZPm6ZcOUjVnpCDk5Se5pwndG7qKnUxmLFpa_hlIfXrR5Wi4z2OfROQZukwdN0HXCSHgwbe8YS9CpwuojWV/s400/IMG_0961.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: center;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh17AmsA_aKzWAamq_LyE8QXAKj3EEjjFxs2AbXXS1pNvxg2kqPSvS0yplZm5uQrkwypJfK5-j074ONsewHoNoI9GODNIfUeA2ITvEMesautUhXZ3to8p74UFqNJEAomAo6LHTwPiWPl3b7/s1600/IMG_0962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh17AmsA_aKzWAamq_LyE8QXAKj3EEjjFxs2AbXXS1pNvxg2kqPSvS0yplZm5uQrkwypJfK5-j074ONsewHoNoI9GODNIfUeA2ITvEMesautUhXZ3to8p74UFqNJEAomAo6LHTwPiWPl3b7/s400/IMG_0962.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The
trail is a short one, no doubt, but the enough element of fun and fear was
adequate, given trying it for the first time. I would think that on my next
trip to Bukit Pelindung, I’d have to chart a longer route. From the beach, I
ran up into the road, and towards Taman Teruntum, in high hopes to thread the
sandy beach to Taman Gelora, and back. However, even in low tide, my run abruptly
stopped as the beach is not runnable between Teruntum and Gelora, so I headed
back to the carpark (along Jalan Alor Akar, etc) in full monsoon rain (even
hard rain without thunders are always welcomed). Overall distance was perhaps
8k-10k, and my cold sweat made the most of it coming down Bukit Pelindung.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7AH8t1z4XKM21mIrX-bY3Tst3ynsBIX7lHQcdrQ4nAJ6U2i6XzVl062XDCARMJr59oA9xP6kKv4oIrdwi7MGNqEtdNEp09Q_QyTo3C7XbfbwhfwzMGroOMuTpqzJWP8TR4AerJqbW_lkh/s1600/IMG_0964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7AH8t1z4XKM21mIrX-bY3Tst3ynsBIX7lHQcdrQ4nAJ6U2i6XzVl062XDCARMJr59oA9xP6kKv4oIrdwi7MGNqEtdNEp09Q_QyTo3C7XbfbwhfwzMGroOMuTpqzJWP8TR4AerJqbW_lkh/s400/IMG_0964.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I missed this Road Safety Awareness campaign when I was a kid!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvdp3qjHp5NZTHqzOWU3WeQzek26f_GOO1a7xuJuQI5pDWKQLaHLeHtVC0EBAAMt7AE-NEAs0IFAnCYhT138oxHNLTO10-O-xxx5ILC4lx6-4A6GhA_jVcKS-x8WlFWMpVvBJ-cGYWeZoY/s1600/IMG_0968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvdp3qjHp5NZTHqzOWU3WeQzek26f_GOO1a7xuJuQI5pDWKQLaHLeHtVC0EBAAMt7AE-NEAs0IFAnCYhT138oxHNLTO10-O-xxx5ILC4lx6-4A6GhA_jVcKS-x8WlFWMpVvBJ-cGYWeZoY/s320/IMG_0968.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The beach at Taman Teruntum - looking towards Taman Gelora beach</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwq8xhV06GyHm1DfsaVWa6gce2cSrG4wZ_VisxlXmXp6FuTUxVRv00dRouB0S2kbS-EcOcA2-MG8BAZiUoaseiYNrob9EBlvPk8KRUeyli4ws_JqnBzuQI-HiQTWls96fbqZltgyLKEg_3/s1600/IMG_0963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwq8xhV06GyHm1DfsaVWa6gce2cSrG4wZ_VisxlXmXp6FuTUxVRv00dRouB0S2kbS-EcOcA2-MG8BAZiUoaseiYNrob9EBlvPk8KRUeyli4ws_JqnBzuQI-HiQTWls96fbqZltgyLKEg_3/s320/IMG_0963.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Back to civilisation</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuON0ZJS9hAPzoRseG8sntsqpBcVTrwPulsIAm0oaIz5TNCBL4D6jN01pQQKtc08_dE5Rsb9vVl5q8QhHJ4TZ_EXK6oxiLOhdufqlke_ZOlG6QuXp41b3xRrMIp5hECzpBjfkAhruEwOo/s1600/IMG_0965.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuON0ZJS9hAPzoRseG8sntsqpBcVTrwPulsIAm0oaIz5TNCBL4D6jN01pQQKtc08_dE5Rsb9vVl5q8QhHJ4TZ_EXK6oxiLOhdufqlke_ZOlG6QuXp41b3xRrMIp5hECzpBjfkAhruEwOo/s320/IMG_0965.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Nik Fahusnaza having a field day at a free range</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcxWsJXJutFOOTJ7cSaTN5IV0t5xhemfJbBumfhrob2EKjZDXucZMln3hdXFXMl-ax0XLBn1O8OWVfvmwC3Vy7hSfg5FJNBbGMri77DRHGt0ahHyZP136-sys4m4nLH0HyS7fRHPyAtXo/s1600/IMG_0975.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcxWsJXJutFOOTJ7cSaTN5IV0t5xhemfJbBumfhrob2EKjZDXucZMln3hdXFXMl-ax0XLBn1O8OWVfvmwC3Vy7hSfg5FJNBbGMri77DRHGt0ahHyZP136-sys4m4nLH0HyS7fRHPyAtXo/s320/IMG_0975.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Imagine Kapas - Marang... seram!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Short
and sweet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Although
not the same I could muster when sitting at the dining table for breakfast with
<i>sambal ikan bilis</i> staring back at me.
But life is like that. You win some, you lose some. When balance is what I was
looking for, a short, intense run with family getaway together is always a
winning strategy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So,
the Bukit Pelindung in one of the top ten list of to-do things in Kuantan now.
Until the next trip!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-89402395262138818822011-11-15T06:53:00.001-08:002011-11-17T21:20:22.948-08:00Powerman 2011<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Progress often brings me to new adventures. That adventure this time was Powerman. After many moons of running and swimming, the first Duathlon beckons. Although the training was nowhere near complete with just few weeks to spare post TNF, I thought that Batman is ought to be whipped out for some action.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But like TNF was shocked by the death of Kharis, a.k.a. TSB in the final eves of the trip, for Powerman we were rattled by the sudden death of a fellow cyclist, Ibrahim the day before our trip. And hence the mind plays precautionary measures into our preparations, and our drive up to Seri Manjung was marred by moody skies and cool weather. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have been accustomed to picking up race kits at shopping malls, parking lots, open field etc, and seeing familiar faces was somewhat I look forward to. Those we the windows when you see your running allies in work dresses, apart from their skimpy weekend uniforms. But coming to the briefing area for Powerman, almost immediately I felt dwarfed coming to a prestige duathlon event like this - what with people were parading blind expressions. Or at least that was how I felt, somewhat inferior as compared to a friendly atmosphere in the running fraternity. The evening when we went for the briefing at the hall, I was at my discomfort by the sheer sight of faux arrogance by some, and at awe by the brush of power. The only consolation was being carted away to the refuge of our hotel room, and later with familiar faces at dinner, set by beautiful bay next to the Outward Bound. I didn't want dinner to end.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-YtxI2x3NdDNqbGRbDvQrt8xzbchjocVnQeeKpy7rFdKp07ir9uX-u6tMVj2kZOMcLvwXF6qZs0J-CZ1T-MlVKfvmwf76ZzOfk1ttqwIj5RlMVgdfgKr9lNsfRSipgkl_ZrnJ2P6SmJX/s1600/303961_10150348494341765_732086764_8472682_129275545_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-YtxI2x3NdDNqbGRbDvQrt8xzbchjocVnQeeKpy7rFdKp07ir9uX-u6tMVj2kZOMcLvwXF6qZs0J-CZ1T-MlVKfvmwf76ZzOfk1ttqwIj5RlMVgdfgKr9lNsfRSipgkl_ZrnJ2P6SmJX/s400/303961_10150348494341765_732086764_8472682_129275545_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Used to swim with Richard (hope to get back at it soon) and he's coming back a lot stronger now. And of course, the AirAsia X CEO - Azran Osman Rani. A cool boss, and aspiring sportsmen (pic credit : Cyn)</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Back in the room, we had little time to ogle at the bad newscaster-ship over the Sea Games on the telly, as the prep starts right away. It was the most complicated preparation to date - in the end, for fuel I ended with 5 GU Gels (1 at T1, 3 taped to top tubes, 1 at T2), 2 Mars bars (reserve fuel), 1 Zip Bar (pre-race), 1 packet of Chomps, few asamboi, 3 ORS packets, 2 bottles of Gatorades (for the bike).</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Laid down the Sloan, jersey, cycling shorts, bibs (for jersey, helmet (left and front), bike), belt, bottles, tube, ID, championchip, running shoes, flipflops, cycling shoes, helmet, gloves, small towel. Plus a fresh change, and arrange them all in the Transition Pack.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I decided to leech on the cycling jersey throughout, where I'd put in the gloves (to wear when approaching T1), Sloan deepheat rub and some ORS.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And the night before we set the bikes up - seat posts, rations in the pouch, pump the wheels, and some spits on the bikes, then finally the <i>asap </i>with the coal<i> a</i>nd some <i>asam limau</i> thrown in.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">All those are not with additional glass of sweet Milo, and </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">roti telur</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">dhal</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> for supper. I closed both eyes to these sinful days, and enjoyed my first </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">roti telur</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> in ages, as we yapped about everything under the stars and the moon.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The morning of the race, we RV-ed at McDonalds for a simple coffee and breakfast in full view of many participants cycling from Lumut into Seri Manjung (such hardcores that they are), and arrived at the race site in hurried pace to secure the bikes in the transition area. I do not know how strict they would be, but it was something I would not want to experiment. But getting the rear wheel was a challenge made easy when Diket coyly secures everything in a fizz. And getting everything I'd need at the transition into the pack the night before was easy as I just dropped the whole thing, and split into the running holding pen. But one had to pause and look at those expensive bikes and drool. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But in the hype of swish-swashing in the transition, I was questioning what on earth I was doing there. Probably my severely lack of training caught my conscience off-guard, and was trying to tell me to knock myself silly. This is a completely new territory.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But as I was standing facing the open sea earlier this year for the Singapore Biathlon, freaking out, thinking all the stupid thoughts, and positive thoughts together - quietly I knew I would sail this through. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I imagine a modest 65mins for the first run, 2.5 hours on the bike, and 75mins for the final run would be achievable. Just thinking of the elusive finisher's t-shirt, no less.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAYd1YRSSUDsFusAwReHDok_TUglG-HCTl_mz09sTN5-kYhWFnrhnhQPVd0eoODYQ4z7HhTPG0KFvQkGYTNJqFIZXw8KNCcPFd-XIvKCjCbpZhQxS9COGt_8IqNbiMZpCG4YBB0kGNK1oy/s1600/382995_707945990625_222400584_6833368_377301266_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAYd1YRSSUDsFusAwReHDok_TUglG-HCTl_mz09sTN5-kYhWFnrhnhQPVd0eoODYQ4z7HhTPG0KFvQkGYTNJqFIZXw8KNCcPFd-XIvKCjCbpZhQxS9COGt_8IqNbiMZpCG4YBB0kGNK1oy/s400/382995_707945990625_222400584_6833368_377301266_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Band of Brothers</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the holding area, generally the eyes were feasting on multiple shots of cycling jerseys and all sorts of comics. Some were wearing helmets for the run, some equally equipped with cycling gloves, mostly running with cycling shorts (myself included). Its amazing that no similar jerseys were donned (except for the team jerseys of Bukit Antu, OCBC and the likes) - so we were all spared by the wardrobe malfunction. But I felt at home that morning, despite different to the normal running shorts and all. The air was light, atmospheric smells familiar when running was put to the grind first.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As a common strategy, when the horn blew, everyone (almost) adopted an easy pace for the first running leg, on a conscious effort to reserve energy for the second running leg. But the runners in us kept our traditional LSD feature in saying hi-s and cheering the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">nasi lemak</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> seller. With the aromatic grilled chicken to the savoury sambal along the road, it was music to my tummy. And the route is littered with children who flock the side kerb to watch us run, and probably trying their luck at the generous offerings of Gatorades at the 4 water stations. They came out in their school uniforms, fixies, and bestest of friends, almost to ridicule our running in the hot sun.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvszBQxe2I3yQOTLWnCVC8VbNIK5wMANVew2sMf259zsTKKrBXaCuxEoJYSsTKonsHwXBhCMoY8It-MAzy1pCd2tASpdxyC7YgAY78KzcT_vJoTlG22vAwKJdbXTLzklXuTJiSYtaHLywL/s1600/308808_290027387686239_100000369404781_1048891_811783988_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvszBQxe2I3yQOTLWnCVC8VbNIK5wMANVew2sMf259zsTKKrBXaCuxEoJYSsTKonsHwXBhCMoY8It-MAzy1pCd2tASpdxyC7YgAY78KzcT_vJoTlG22vAwKJdbXTLzklXuTJiSYtaHLywL/s400/308808_290027387686239_100000369404781_1048891_811783988_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At one point, the sound of synchronised plods between the three of us running was delicious. One of the best 11k run to date for me (not in terms of time, but running experience).</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS6YBvVGKrR1JBvxEdarkGbRTkEXHoldUZ2bDh1vtR3mBlEJL_xDQ3rv9mHUwnZFWUHFNXzf7nGmsOeIigFzuFT8tESO-pt-qjVH4joXDitu44obFFab2MWNGhix2NJBiQdI-Qky_hpf_6/s1600/308887_10150378897062182_732022181_8634230_663731671_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS6YBvVGKrR1JBvxEdarkGbRTkEXHoldUZ2bDh1vtR3mBlEJL_xDQ3rv9mHUwnZFWUHFNXzf7nGmsOeIigFzuFT8tESO-pt-qjVH4joXDitu44obFFab2MWNGhix2NJBiQdI-Qky_hpf_6/s400/308887_10150378897062182_732022181_8634230_663731671_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And so the first leg was done in a very comfortable pace, as Diket, Azmar and myself cornered into the stadium ground into the transition. I pulled the Sloan, lather onto the quads and hamstrings, and downed a GU gel, and off to get the bike. Getting into transition was easy, but marred but inconvenient incident when the plaster tape I had from this morning stuck to each other, and when putting on the cycling shoes, I had the toes all bundled on top of each other, at all directions. Tweaking them on both feet took precious time off, but once that was sorted out, putting the helmet was quick and I found a trail of Diket right out front. I was on track.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I took off to the road on a light gear, trying to maintain my speed - and few turns later exiting the town into the main road into Damai Laut. Quickly I realised my odometer was not sending any readings (which I later found out that the front wheel was fixed upside down), but with many rider zooming past, I went ahead, only faster when I saw a water station ahead. I was always curious to see how do they actually work so I reduced the speed, and put out my left arm and grab a bottle of cold Gatorade. Few sips of those, I rode while holding the bottle and feeling stupid. I downed another gulp and threw the precious hydration. Too bad. But I later learnt to call out for the hydration of choice, and the selected volunteers would come out and reach for you. Kinda cool too.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The first cycling leg was enjoyable, to say the least. I managed to stay behind Diket until the major climb at Bainun's bridge when baffled by the bridge, I lost my bearings and delayed in my hasty attempt to shift gears. And the view on top of the bridge is awesome. Stretches of mangrove forest beyond what I could see in the low tide. But all was good and I returned back into Lumut still smiling. However, beyond the 40th km, almost immediately both feet swelled up and pushing against all walls. As a result, in between the numerous effort to unclip, and air wiggle the feet alternatively, ultimately I had to stop at the turnaround point near Damai Laut, and air the feet in open air. Suddenly I was brought back to Penang Bridge Half Marathon when multiple cramps forced me to admire the foul smell of the water below, under the magnificent city skyline of Penang.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Regardless, I arrived at the transition (T2) and a walk/run in the transition area was unbearable. It was almost a Godsent when I took the shoes out, ran on the grass and quickly slipped into Ghost, downed a GU gel, and off I went. What made it all worthwhile (at that point in time) was the sight of Azuria holding a cold bottle of Coke like an offering. The sun was up and the thin hot air slicing, and a sip of cold Coke is all you need sometimes.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">100 metres out, a strong surge of tight knots on both quads floored me to a semi squat. The multiple spasm continues and saw me admiring the uneventful stream from over a bridge. It only subsided in the second loop of the run, although possibly the adrenalin takes over, and sheerly motivated by the finisher's t-shirt. And I had Puisan as company, who brilliantly carried her water bottle and filled it with ice water. A squirt of those in the high afternoon picked up a little bit of pace. Definitely a clever trick to continuous ice shower. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Overall, the second running leg was not uneventful, and didn't lose its appeal any bit. What can I say - first love dies hard.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Coming back into the end of it all, I arrived at rows of barricades littered with PowerBar signs. After all these years looking at the setting in blogs of the IMs and triathletes alike, I found myself coming back into one. Surreal, to say the very least. As I passed through the gantry into the less-than-impressed spectators, it was a noble thing to come back to an icy cold towel (classic PowerBar towel, no less), and that exclusive finisher's t-shirt. Not a fan of the colour - but I'll have fun having my wife jeering at me when I flaunt it at social gatherings. Heheheh...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And that tan line... I felt like a kid with a KitKat. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The tan line felt like a badge of honour. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Beyond the finishing gantry, Powerman served simple food in the form of melons (would be super if it was cold), <i>taufufa</i> (for some odd, sweet protein) and cendol (OMG-ness!). The second stage was a full lunch during the prize giving ceremony, when the Organiser did not have the slightest idea what a sportsmen would need in their system post-Powerman. Despite the protein, we were served with white rice, super hot black pepper roasted beef, pasta with cream and bolognaise sauce, marble cakes, karipaps etc etc etc. A buffet spread fitting for politicians, I forced some food as my stomach was growling. Suddenly, a McChicken was more appealing. I needed more sugar!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When we finally regrouped, the Powerman virgins talked the most (myself included), like kids yapping about their day out in the zoo, as we went on and on and on, on transition, on cramps, on people lapping us, on timing, on etc. I think the adrenaline lasted us the drive back to Ziff's place. Even my iPhone battery didn't last that long with all the WhatsApps rallying around.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In retrospect, I have loads of respect for this event. The format is different to what I was used to, but the setting and atmosphere are addictive. I truly enjoyed the runs, and had I put enough heads into the cycling, it would have been sufferfest-free. The Manjung and Lumut folks are friendly, and overly accommodative in us invading their streets, and without a doubt, Powerman is a well-oiled machine. Pain and soreness aside, the lure to come back next year came merely an hour after the event. <i>Aduhai</i>...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Without question, my cycling skills are poor. Body form was defected which caused my back stiffened like a rod. And I need to get another pair of cycling shoes (crap!) to allow for the expanding tissues. One piece of advice from a cyclist friend was to build a base of 200km cycling distance per calendar week! I vomited air with faint smell of peanut butter sandwich I had for breakfast. A trainer would have been a better investment. To date, I have yet to figure out how I'd turn myself around in cycling, into my life before the dawn of PD Triathlon next year.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But yeah - my escapade in Powerman was great. Unquestionable event, great company, scenic road trip, and a <i>Gila-Gila-Remaja</i> outing. I did not suffer from any blister, or muscle cramps, so that was a good thing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thanks Ziff, for the ride and company. Diket and the whole gang (Azmar, Dett, Akmal, Nizam, Alwin, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Izuan, Azu and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">etc) for taking the inferiority out of the question. I have been really blessed, </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Alhamdulillah</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">. </span></div>
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</div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-64599129829267034212011-10-24T09:08:00.000-07:002011-10-24T09:08:26.158-07:00Still Got the Blues<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Sunday - a week post TNF100 Singapore. My wife is away to Penang for a short holiday, and I have been babysitting the princesses. I have dragged them across the city the evening before, and they were completely spent. Aiden woke up around Subuh for her milk, and Iris still curling, now fully covered under the duvet on a cool Sunday morning. It was 6.45 a.m., and as the sun fast breaking up, I lay flat staring at the ceiling fan, feeling hollow. And completely confused. My mind eagerly waking my me up, saying that I needed to be somewhere. I needed to do something. I ought to put my running gears and head out into somewhere.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">For some crumbling seconds, I almost felt guilty. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The week after the big adventure is always a state of confusion for me, as much as the week leading to it. The biggest dialogue I'd always have still spirals to weight management, how paranoid I am to gain all the weight I worked so hard to lose. I always wonder when shall I start running again, and should I rest longer. Will the blisters turn into a gangrene, or at least manifest in itself thousands of worms feeding on the dead skins.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But the blisters are all dried up, and the left pinky toenail has completely fallen off. So did the big right toenail. I have cut them off and planted in the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">pandan</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> pot as edible sculptures for the ants and cockroaches. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And I have always hate the carboloading week when I force myself to eat. A natural progression for long distance runners is not a natural progression for a fat guy trying to lose his weight. Eat more to stock on carbs and exercise less? Insane, right?</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Since I joined TNF Singapore back in 2009, I have learnt about the glorious brunch they put up, and it is one of the motivation I kept coming each year - for the Double Chocolate Cookies. And this year was no different. After 2010 edition where we came close to food rationing, this year they stocked well on cookies - peanut butter, oatmeal, raisins, double chocolates etc, as well as curry puffs by Mushroom Cafe (halal meal), a wide selection of Subway sandwiches (non-halal meals), a wide array of fresh cut fruits, strawberries, bananas, apples and all. Truly, coupled with a running event like no other - I felt the fees I have paid was well worth it.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So naturally, my confusion with food for pre and post runs are not dumbfounded. It is even celebrated. But what I strongly disagree is the strong camp which advocates glorious food in the name of carboloading, and celebration. I think this is a time bomb. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">At least for me. With such food, I cannot afford to be careless. I think the saying 'Run to Eat' is misleading, as though running is an escapism so we could eat senselessly. That could have been the most careless and insensitive reflection any runners would want to associate themselves to, and for the beginner runners coming in - those words are disparaging. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And when I would fantasize traveling into exotic locations to run, I found travelling into the race city is also not easy for me. Shall I sleep the entire trip? Would I find trouble to sleep at night? Shall I get 2 seats to stretch my long legs? Should I bring a book (non-running book, regardless) to read during the journey? What if I needed to go after the litres of Gatorade I have been sipping? </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And the doubts you keep hearing in your head. I have so far some good and junk miles under my, err, shoes, after starting 'training'. I have found pleasure in running everyday, and discovered some pain and fatigue, and been feeling pretty ok I'd do myself justice when running the TNF, but that nagging feeling - 'have I done enough?'.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Well obviously those will never be enough, but it was all I could do. But I knock myself silly with these doubts. The same doubt returned after the run, dragging my feet heavy and telling me to stay in bed, and withdraw from running. That I deserve this break. This Zero Week.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But a week post TNF100, this unconscious-self have long forgotten the sharp pain that ground him to a screeching halt at KM34.6, and already ravishing about the the next year's edition. So I think that could be the plan. I would aim for Standard Chartered KL Marathon, and a TNF Series per year, maybe 2 TNF Series if I am lucky and have some dough to spend, and that's all I needed to keep busy. Perhaps the dream for a triathlon event is still apparent somewhere in betweens. Sounds like a plan. Good thing to know something tangible comes out from this unnecessary confusion.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And the trip to Singapore has been the smoothest thus far. I am grateful, and Kash has been a selfless host. After some months and FB-ing, it was heartwarming to meet a great friend like her, after all these months. With the comfortable night at her Dragon Mansion and the twilight event that took place, it was set to be a great run. But I was still doubting myself when we were gunned off, and that was the last time I glimpsed into Kash, and left her at the back. Sorry partner - the thought of braving 9 hours beyond Lor Asrame made me going upfront to minimise risks later when running at 2 p.m. But thanks Kash! And I can never thank you enough!</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I had no chance to book-shopping in Bras Basah, and meeting my friend Mohammed, or visit the many gorgeous homes around Singapore, or replenish my </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Individuel</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I could recall many encounters of this withdrawal syndrome over the years I run, especially when the big race is over. I suppose it's a silly way the body is telling us to slowdown, having tagging with the brunt over the weeks. But I have allowed my body to recover and rest the whole last week, and I hope now it will be re-awaken in time for Powerman. Then, only after then, I'd worry over the next race and think how to deal with it. Perhaps my slight-dyslexicity state keeps me anxious over petty things. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What I would strive to achieve is a minimum of 7-hours sleep/nights.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">That already sound like a win-win situation.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-13642868438799170932011-10-17T08:27:00.000-07:002011-10-17T08:28:00.289-07:00TNF Singapore, 100 Duo, October 2011<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I think from 2012, I shall be calculative in events I'd partake. No, wait... extremely calculative. Nothing genius here - races are getting really expensive. Race fees, and on top of that are travelling, lodging, fuel, tolls, preparation for hydration and hydration, not to mention all those items required intensively during training sessions. What with the baby Batman's arrival in February - I'd have little room in my pockets to wiggle between flight tickets and ERL fees.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">2012 I foresee is the year all pirates shall be awaken.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Having said that, there are races I'd register without a blink. No wait - I'd blink, but will find my resources to fulfill this insatiable fantasy. A fantasy that makes me feel like a million buck, like I am a superhuman. A superhero. I suppose I am like that. It is currently a fast personal trait that I hate about myself. That feeling, goes without saying, is like a page of an awesome travel destination, ripped from a magazine somewhere. An image not cohesive with the picture and reality. A reality I mostly cannot afford (not yet, but maybe one day...).</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So TNF Singapore is one of them. I scratched my wallet long time before the registration was open. I feel that it has a different appeal to the road races I've ran in, and I liked to think that I am a different breed of runners. Running 50k in the gorgeous woods and punishing open trails in Singapore is an event I was waiting for. Regardless I trained for it, or not, is beyond discussion. I felt that this was my playground. So when the drama of registration unfold in the past months, I'd been coy and silent about it, but truth is - I was disappointed on how it turned out in the early part of the registration. Whatever happened - I cannot fathom or think what the reasons were that I was sidelined so easily. The feeling was horrible when you have a familiar place being torn apart from you. I became disoriented, and didn't feel grounded. Irony because, it was not a grounded place to start with. The male-mantra was easily "don't fix it unless it's broken" gave me a new meaning. From last year's race, it seemed, I was broken. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I needed to fix myself too - as this great race is easily gobbling all sides of my resources dry. I do not harbour any ill-feelings in any way, so please spare this plot from any </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Cerekarama</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> Director. It's just that, unconsciously at the back of my head, I know this reinforces my belief that running is in fact, a solitary sport.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Coming into the third year, my preparation could not have been any worse. For the trainings, it only picked up speed post Ramadhan when the mileage peaked at 100+k/weeks. The target was more on endurance and time-on-feet training, and very little speedworks. I tried, but in the end I was too fatigued from running mornings and evenings, 7-days/weeks. I cannot find the energy to speed, but to speed things up as I counted the laps and time when to complete the mileages, and get on with it. But in the end, I felt comfortable running the trails at FRIM, so I thought I did OK (which was, of course, wrong).</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Regardless, October came in eventually. By the final weeks, I still logged 100+k/weeks, and only the final 5 days prior I forced my shoes to lay idly basking in the hot sun at the balcony. And the weather had been quite sneaky with most rain showers after lunch. Sometimes the evening runs were rewarded by cool, after-thunderstorm wind, but mostly the heat stung my dark skin and rendered my vision blurred. In the final days, I sorted the the renewal of my passport, and book the bus ticket. Pushing everything to the last minutes almost reinforces my laidback to going to this race. Something tells me that this third year, I'd almost gotten things in an auto mode. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As for the race itself, their hesitant decision to move the race to start an hour late proved lethal to many. OK, proved lethal to me at least. And standing at the starting line alongside my partner, I incidentally had an image of TSB, whose passing is still fresh. A young guy, loved by many, had been in my mind since the day he died, and so with every stride, every exertion was calculated. Every pain, chest discomfort, disillusioned and temporal blurry visions were channeled to questioning myself, had I been pushing my maximum heart rate. At any point, I knew I started a lot slower as compared to TNF 2010. I was overly careful to listen to all the red flags my body threw at me, where at any given moment, I'd just have a go at it.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Another point was I ran in Ghost 3. Having lost TerraX 2 weeks before the race left me with no window to break a new one. And with the size 13, it was a gigantic effort to drive around looking for a perfect fit. After a couple of flings up to Steroid Part 2, I was confident the Ghost would not disappoint. Well, Ghost cannot disappoint, because I had no Plan B. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">By then, Ghost had done roughly 60k on trails, and the effect of many road miles has made the Ghost sweet without the socks. This decision was a disaster, I later found out.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This year, with slight deviations in the route outside MacRitchie (into the Durian Trails), and rerouting of Mandai, Lor Asrama stretch - I had the routes about 60% in memory, so it was easy to lay out the routes, its hopeless rocks and bricks, and I was able to enjoy the run. But I have been rather unfortunate sometimes, when missing a route marker sent me into a wrong direction, and needed to backtrack. And fortunate to the major part of the route as I ran alongside Singaporean colleagues who had trained and knew the trails well, and put me/us into a good path. I almost can imagine my frustration if I were to run at night. I later found out, some pedestrian moved the markers, or was it pedestrians?</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I think I maintained a good pace coming out into Mandai, and had a considerable rest at CP3. Frank caught up, and we chatted away when attacking the harsh trails, 365 Hill and the remaining of it all. Needless to say, coming back to Mandai felt I have returned into civilisation. Funny, because I only exited the trails into the road that leads to the Zoo. But coming out of that trails felt like I have passed an insurmountable challenge, like I have cleared a clogged drain, and now I was able to speed back to the CP3 for replenishment. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Once I reached CP3, I pulled half a dozen plasters as the heat of Lor Asrama really worked my left toes, and the sweat down to the shoes, and some cold shower earlier by 365 Hill were a combination of stupidity and recklessness to attempt an Ultra distance that particular day. By then, the left toes were screaming as I tried to put some plaster on the wrinkled and wet skin, but none stuck on except sending extra pain directly to the brain. I looked up to the sun, glitched off the afternoon track and listened to my growling stomach. I popped one KitKat bar, and the aftertaste burn in my throat. That will not go well. Downed some salt, a gel, some water, and I was off. There was only 34k, not an easy one at that.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Over the many moons I started running in races beyond half marathon distance, there were many events I shared with fellow runners, talking proudly how black our toenails have become. I remembered my first blister, and when the first toenail came off (SCKLM 2009, no less), I smiled for hours on end. But a blister this particular TNF gave birth to was super nasty. Some 500m into the trails, the blister popped on my pinky left toes, and I was floored by the excruciating pain. I felt like an open wound soaked in acid when the stain and foul fluid from the Ghost, a fine mixture of sweat, 100+, water and soil. Even after a minor 'procedure' of double plastering the toes proved hopeless when the plasters doesn't stick on wet toes are wet, hence all effort to run was futile. What's was left made me choose to walk with just my sock from Mandai to CP4, passed the Park Connectors, and passed the long trail next to BKE into the next medic tent. The sun was unforgiving, as I hobbled under the sun, mostly tiptoeing on stones like hot coals, and walked under the shade, while holding the left pair of Ghost. I weighed my option of calling it quits, as request for an ambulance ride back to the finishing line. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But that would have been too easy. And that reaffirms that I am not a barefooter.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And thanks to the medic at CP4, although not without some delay, I was mended, and I was convinced it was all he could do. Clean the toes, wipe it clean, put some plaster, and tape them. I grit my teeth, pulled up the Ghost, and walked in pain. It hurts just the same as before. It hurts when I stepped on the rocks, and it hurts when I coasted downhills. But that is the only locomotion required. After all, I cannot hail a cab in the middle of the trails. I just needed to move ahead. Whoever created the saying 'pain is temporary, the glory is forever' must have gone through some shitty times. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But thankfully, there are times when adrenalin rush would overrule the pain, especially when I passed some spectators patiently clapped their hands, and uttered what a well done a job I was doing, or when the landscape opened to some breathtaking landscape, like when rolling trails unfolds in front of you (mostly downhills on the way back), that the brain was paralysed from the pain. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Somehow, coming back to MacRitchie and the customary ice shower, I felt re-energised, and able to block the nagging pain on my toes, rubbing against the third change of socks. Regardless of the pain, the distance was less than 10k to go, and that was a motivation in itself. And the last section of the trails, even with its meandering routes and unreliable markers, only one unmistakable vision counts - when the trail clears into views of the lake, and suddenly burst into an open sky, into the lakes and back the the cafe. That was a utopia of some sort.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And bursting into that very image brings huge relief that the end is near. That no pain could ever defeat me, as adrenalin rush takes over. Even though the end feels more like a cheap wedding karaoke, but still, coming back to the supporting warm hearts beats the scorching sun, and after passing the gantry, I was relieved that it is finally over. I am not sure if I was relieved the race was over (so I never have to do it again), or relieved that I completed the Ultra in one piece, and alive. It is hard to discover myself when the mind is numb when approaching the finish line. For sure, I was certain I was ecstatic that the route beyond Mandai was over once I exited near Singapore Zoo. That felt like a finish line for me, or at least that I like to feel, being closer to where I could hail a cab.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Only after some Double Chocolate cookies and few strawberries later that I managed to gather enough gut to open my socks and check on the toes, not before peeling layers of tapes, gauzes and plasters. Whoever was enjoying their post-lunch meal next to me must have been swearing me and my next generation. The pinky left toe, apparently had a huge blister at 360degree. Once I would be ready to peel off the dead skin in a week, I would have gotten a completely new skin all around that toe, and the dead skin would have been a perfect skin glass. Gross is a state of mind. And the next toe looked like a popped balloon, all wrinkly with the skin tore open along the tape the medic put on earlier. And I had a little peninsular of blisters under the ball of the left foot, all proud and waiting to be sliced open.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But apart from that, TNF this year has proved that at that pace, I was spared any muscle cramps. Only the day after that I felt my stiff shoulders, and sore back from lugging the hydration bag, and the sore quads from over-compensating the blisters. Quietly, I was grateful I do not have to run at Timpohon, in an attempt to conquer Mount Kinabalu in 2.5hours next week. *phew*.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Me and Kash vowed for a suspension from TNF Singapore 2012. I do not know how long will that last, and for me that will be mirrored by the ClimaCool shirt on offer next year. Judging from their similar medal design over the years, I need to look beyond the lazy medal to register for next year.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">However, I'll put down a note of this year's mistakes, so hopefully next year, when I open this log to find wisdom, I'd find some;</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Mistakes:</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">a) I never learnt not to wet the shoes when splashing cold water on me at water stations. However, sweat drips down into the shoes easily, so there's no solution yet.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">b) did not tape blister-prone toes. Next time, my toes would look like deep fried prawn fritters. Whatever it takes.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">c) carried too much water. 1.5litres of water/isotonics was too heavy. While I can now imagine how I felt like when I carried the extra 4.47kg on me, that weight in water was too heavy for me (I had to stop at KM3 to pour out precious 100+ into the drain).</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">d) stick to Mars bars, ditch the quick sugar fix. When the brain's on fire, all cheap chocolates burns badly. I should have chucked them all to the monkeys instead of carrying them around Singapore.</span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">e) Ghost is only good for 20k trail run, not more. Period.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">f) I had 2 pieces of wholemeal bread with Nutellafor breakfast. Nope... not nearly enough. I remembered the pasta I had for SCKLM 2010 3 hours before the race was a good fuel.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">g) While running sockless is one simple pleasure I have discovered, the sweet freedom definitely did not work with Ghost. Perhaps another marriage with a better suited pair would do justice. And perhaps it's time I invested on Injinji socks, although I hate the wiggly feeling in betweens. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">With that pace, and that distance, I gobbled 3 gels. I had a banana while the medic taped the wounded soldier. Some Chomps, a KitKat bar, handful of </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">asamboi</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">, and about 6 litres of fluid with ice and 4 Nuun tablets. Sadly, the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">buah kurma</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> and the remaining gels were purely weight training, which is responsible to this severe soreness on my shoulders.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Well, in this quest to run into my 70s (</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">insyaAllah</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">), I could see many of these mistakes coming my way. And looking back, I doubt running TNF Singapore next year. This year had been not enjoyable, but I am sure when the wind swept my way at the right time, I'd bow. The question is not so much of whether I'd register, but whether I'd be able to enjoy it. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Suppose I have another year to find out how gorgeous the event T would be like.</span></span></div>
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</div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-48481729560998157872011-10-12T02:44:00.000-07:002011-10-12T02:47:13.859-07:00Disclaimer<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have missed writing terribly. In the past times I'd go back to the first months this blog was created, and read the lines in its naivety. I didn't know what a Full Marathon was, or any particular shoes to buy. I certainly did not line runs after runs on weekends, and definitely not thinking of multi-sport, and leveraging my buying power into the new pair of shoes instead of the dining chairs my wife had wanted so much. I wrote to zero audience then, and I was blind to feeling vulnerable to put myself bare in the limelight. It was a silent diary to record my feeling at the very moment, and record the things I did and needed to do to lose weight. Much similar to the diary I had back in primary school, which I kept for English classes (and used as a mechanism to polish my English). But over the years, I have lost half of that fun, after everything I wrote screaming for attention, or at least fashioned to demand friendly comments.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I know that am not a novelist. I am not a story-teller. I am an office rat. I grew up not having to entertain anyone. I am just a guy who happened to discover something ought to be discovered 20 years back, like stumbling into a treasure chest which lies half exposed by the beach. Certainly there is nothing new to sweat it out - 99% of my school friends did just that. I just needed to go to the beach.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I lost track of myself some time ago. Priorities came piling up, and in the end I managed a minute-to-minute event. The image of who I wanted to be is sometimes smudged, and mostly ended with a romantic visual of me running a sandwich store. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Looking at it, it is one of the scariest moment I could imagine being at this point of my life. After all, I have 3.5 souls counting on all the actions I do every single day. And I can be a lot careless with my judgments, my Finance Minister would agree.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I lost track of this blog, this particular space when ramblings are acceptable, but not a private venue to express the darkest secret, and the deepest sorrow. It succumbed to become a half-forced happy place - even times a self-made podium. Understandably, it is bleeding hard to keep logging away when you actually move/run/swim everyday without coming across to sounding brash and bragging. It is challenging to emotionally reflect on things, and whatever</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> everyday, talking about the ambience on the run - when I mostly don't think about a lot of things when running everyday. The head is filled with mileage demands, keeping score of all the nagging pains, of where to run next, and sort my To-Do-List. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But in blogging, I felt I have gone away with many friends reading too far to step back and be emotional about petty, personal stuff. Blogs, it seemed, when writing for a group of avid readers - should be most times silent of personal angst. Running, it seemed, should balance personal negativity onto the tarmac, and into the drain. Really?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-74198346273497299752011-07-06T19:56:00.000-07:002011-07-06T19:58:08.670-07:00FRIM Farewell for Fkash<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kash is leaving on a jetplane back to Singapore, and over the last weeks, there have been FB markers, SMSes etc regarding the run-picnic in FRIM, up in the Helipad/Steroid Hill.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So here is the plan;</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>RV Point : <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">Cafe/Mosque in FRIM</span></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>RV Time : <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">6.30 - 6.45 a.m.</span></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Autobots Roll Out : <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">7.00 a.m.</span></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Running Route : <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">The Dream Trail, Rover Track, Dusun Durian, Steroid Hill, Steroid Hill Part Deux, Helipad, Tea House, Dicterocarp Arboretum, Jalan Kapur, carpark</span></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Distance : <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;">15-16km</span></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Note :</b></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">FRIM charges RM5/car/person. Additional person in the same car will be charged RM1 (if I'm not mistaken), so carpool if possible.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This will be a farewell trail run for our dear friend Kash, so if you don't mind, bring some snacks in your Camelbaks to share up the Helipad. Do not be tempted to bring mee kari up there. Up in Helipad, and halfway on Steroid Hill, there will be water taps for cleaning purposes only.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since it's the 9th of July, please DO NOT wear anything yellow to represent the Bersih Op, or anything provocative. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As there will be some first timers joining Kash for the run, I'd like to take this opportunity to remind you all to please remember that there will be no water stations in the trails, so please be self sufficient with your hydrations and fuel. I will bring some chocolates and deep heat rub, just in case. Do not forget your handphones. Normal running shoes are fine, but trail shoes are recommended.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pace will be mild, considering Kash is having a swim date in Templer at 10.00 a.m. We are expected to reach Tea House at around 9.00 - 9.15 a.m. Considering the hot weather nowadays, the </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pacats</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> may be away.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hope to see you guys there.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-77204606967170771872011-07-04T00:35:00.000-07:002011-07-04T00:35:00.887-07:00Homework<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I had a special one-on-one session with (drum roll......................) Omar Yip yesterday. Well, not exactly, but Shanaz was puffing behind us (puff?) that I had Yip all the way.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yip was kind enough to offer his eyes and legs after we asked him to look at our strides. He was the latest one to brutally put it that I have yet to put my long legs into full use. If was as though I have an expensive bike that I do not use... o, wait... I do...</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We headed off to Hartamas around 7.20a.m., a little late than usual, with an easy pace. And over the course, I ran along Yip, looked at him run as he sprinted off, we sprinted up the hills, and talked about a lot of thing - I wanted to quit a lot of times. It is not an easy feat following a fast runner like him. Try to go to KLCC Park and tag along Ahmad Lamchanak for a few laps and you'll know what I mean.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yip, is after all the podium finisher. He run for placing, for money, for glory. If you have followed his blog, you'll know he is extra-ordinary. When I first stumbled upon his blog many years ago, I thought he was a loony. But he is humble and approachable, much like Jamie Pang.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So listening to him as how he runs to the top 10 spot is something else. I know I will not be there at the spot, but to hear his perspectives are refreshing.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So his verdicts on my run are; </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>a) my shoes are not suitable. I need to get a racing shoes to run lighter and faster</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>b) I run inefficiently. There are too much vertical movements, jumpy-effects to my runs that creates tension and insulate my speed. I need to keep it steady and keep it lateral</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>c) to work on core muscles - that will help to propel myself forward, and lift my knees higher to open my strides</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>d) my strides still too small (so kedekut, like that...) - need to lift both feet higher to increase stride length</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>e) my long strides (whenever it pops out) is powerful, but aerobic level is too low. Remedy is intervals on hills, so there goes Bukit Antarabangsa</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>f) pumping arms is subjective</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>g) I run looking down, counting pebbles. Head to look straight, body not haunch to allow better respiratory regulation</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>i) I lack self believe (huh?)</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He also ask me to watch how the pros open their strides, and watch Jean Pierre and the rest of the Kenyan leap. Sure - I'll lose another 20kg.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That is a long list. I have not been running systematically since a very long time. Ian taught me HIITs, hills, etc, but the last of them and the Cooper Test felt so ancient. I am however, not an athlete, so the question comes to how far would I be willing to explore this. My biggest objective is still to manage my weight.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">OK, that's a lie. I do not want to worry about my weight when I turn 60, and unconsciously drag myself out of bed to run, so I could manage my weight.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Regardless, this is my homework for SCKLM 2012. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-91801717362884587392011-07-03T09:00:00.000-07:002011-07-03T09:01:35.328-07:00Standard Chartered KL Marathon 2011<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is a week since the daunting SCKLM 2011. The blisters are dying up, and I pulled the entire big left toenail last night. As of now, 3 of them toes are nail-less. The soreness were all long gone, but I am limping from the torturous traditional massage I got from Hj. Ismail of Dato' Keramat. He literally caused me multiple cramps during the massage itself as I was howling. Cruel old man...</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">SCKLM 2011 - the hardest I have worked for a medal. Period. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With the chain of events scattered along the training weeks leading towards the race, I knew I was not ready. I let the fear eat me up, as I casually slipped into my other priorities. The approach was not optimal, and deep inside, I knew that. But the stakes were high, I wanted a PR. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Progress is natural. We all want progress. I looked at the uncles and aunties zooming past me every week and cursing myself. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was cursing myself because, I was merely humbled by them apart from the expensive shoes I put on, and the ridiculous dailymile entries to boast my runs for the week. No, wait... humbled was an overstatement... I am ashamed of myself.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So when the morning of the dreadful day, I had thunders in my heart. Half of me didn't want to be there, another half was not sure why I was there in the first place. And standing in the holding area, 15 minutes before gun-off, alone - was daunting. I felt like I was back to SCKLM 2009. No watch, no pacenotes. So when the gun went off, I just put my music, and ran. Lupe Fiasco was grinding me in the right tune, and I was caught in the moment. I only saw Azmar briefly before he went on to chase the first 4:00 balloon. I think I saw Azhar fleeting by before Brickfields.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The run felt really good and I maintained a hard pace. The route was familiar, and I ran through all water stations. I simply did not want to lose the pace. Somewhere after the 14km marker, Richard Tang said hello, and I straddled behind him. The pace was great, and I felt great. The initial fear was gone, and I felt good drafting him. The pace was not fleeting, and manageable. But after the 18th km, the left quad sent a huge protest. I was sidelined, and watching the green balloon disappeared in seconds. Damn!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next few kms were shuffling and stopping to stretch as I was afraid the yellow balloon will come soon. I was hell - the quads sent strikes after another within minutes, and I would have dribbled the foam from the Nuuns I was sucking, but it was too late. I did not hydrate properly, and it was payback.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The yellow balloon passed me at the 24th, and I was shattered. I was back in town, and the RM20 would be enough to get a cab back to Dataran. I was seriously considering that option, as it was not at all enjoyable. My mental health was crippling. And coming into Jalan Ipoh did not help, when I was forced to walk more than I'd like to run. When I felt better, I would run, whenever the cramp came back, I'd stop, stretch and walk. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you are only halfway done, it is not pretty. Sure, a cab would be an easy solution, but I told myself this would not be the day. Not today, not now.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I finally arrived at Kak June's waterhole - I felt like crying! Carol and Lawrence arrived at the same time, and we spent some time to drink and take a breather. Tried to gulp on a bread to no avail. And Nik was very kind to give me the push through Tijani. This familiar course was the toughest that day. I kept on stopping and walking - and embarrassing enough to be doing that with my sparring partner. We blitzed the route many weeks ago. Along this stretch we saw Henry having a field day on his lazy chair, and Yip cycling around (thanks for the Snickers!) offering help.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sweet meandering descent down Bukit Tunku hills were punishing, but I did get some wind there. But as soon as the 5:00 balloon coasted by, I picked up pace. No! Not above 5!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After the Bank Negara, the adrenalin started to kick in, and I ignored the tightness in the left quads, and the right ankles, and charged Jalan Raja Laut towards Sogo, sometimes reduced to walks. I made sure I was running in front of the pink balloon, and crossed the line at 4:50. A huge relief! After getting the medal, I was not in the mood to hang around. I was spent! I had huge blisters on both feet, and already I was crabbing to the car. Besides, a 2 hour drive to Kuantan awaits.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So yeah - it sucks when you do not progress. And it sucks to know it all boils down to the amount of trainings I had put up with. And I think I am entitled to kick myself in the butts one in a while.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But it is done and over with. I think my mistakes are;</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a) Running too fast too early</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">b) Not hydrating enough in the first 10k</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">c) Not listening to the body - if I was unfit, I should not have run at all</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">d) No breakfast that morning - ooops!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">e) No enough sleep the days before - major!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">f) Nuun tablets/ORS a little too late</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">g) I showered at water stations. Must remember NOT to shower as the cold water slides down, steams off the warm feet, and causing the shoes to wet - big mistake!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">h) Not enough training</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i) doubting myself - mental disfunction</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">j) Bad running form to</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I'll keep for the next marathon;</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a) this collection of music, and Sony Walkman was awesome!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yeah - the hardest one yet. I'll remember this as the defeat, and we'll see how I could unlearn my mistakes this year.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I am glad it is over - I could go back to short runs and trails, and eating normally again. Seriously, I cannot comprehend how others could train and run Ultra, but my hats off to them! For now, I'd be happy with my swims and halfs.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-49991932683027811822011-06-19T09:48:00.000-07:002011-06-19T09:48:22.009-07:00Just Next Week!<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's the most (gastronomically) tiring week of all - the carboloading week. <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">Lo and behold - it's the Marathon Week</span></b> already. The order of this week will be to eat, and sleep more, and keep the legs fresh. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I have learnt last year, apart from resting and eating more, was to drink lots of water and spread the ORS generously in the last 3 days. This year, I'll stretch that to the whole week, in tandem with the food fest. And with my current sleep pattern ranges from 2-hours (yeah, I know!) to 6-hours/days, it could be quite a challenge.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I will just eat what I normally eat for all meals, in bigger portions. I have given hope (for this year's SCKLM) to read, plan and preach proper hydrations and diet - of what should have beens, etc. With the current situations, I'd stay safe in the familiar territory. I'd pack on near-expiring free gels from TNF last year, ORSes, Sloan deep heat, some gatorades, some Mars bars, some money, and my music. I need to sort the music though...</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had some decent runs this weekend - the first being with the Xtramilers where I ran along Alex and the pacers (Izuan, Shanaz, Nana, Irwan, KA, Alvin, etc) from Kelana Jaya LRT to Pizza Hut, TTDI. We started at 4, and reached TTDI at around 7 a.m., for a total of approx. 19km. Although the stretch did not offer some good hill simulations and speed drills, but it was an awesome avenue to support a good cause, and having fun all at the same time. And I figured, I could always fall back to the 7:30 pace we had that morning when I needed to rest a little.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks to Mizi, I got a ride back to KJ and drove off to FRIM. I was super late, and relieved to know Kash and Nik have started running. As much as I love going into Dream Trail with them, that was not the day. We regrouped at Rover Track, at the end of Dream Trail. We fell into each other's pace and it was awesome to be in familiar turf. Been a while since our last... er, trainings.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The plan to run Kinrara on Sunday was scrapped as I woke up to a tinge of pain on my right foot. I must have twisted my right ankle somewhere in the hype of running on Saturday. Not exactly the right time to get it, but it is what it is. The plan to visit the hills need to be revisited after the marathon, hopefully more intense and closer to home. Knowing a Father's Day lunch was inevitable, it was hard not to get the gears and run.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But hey, it's the Marathon Week - it's officially the food fest, so why not.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A week to the marathon - I tell myself I was better prepared last year. But going through las year's entry, I was as mentally wrecked as I am today, but yes - I was physically more prepared. I suppose this year I am jittery because all the familiar comrades are nowhere near within the radar, and the hype is somewhat smudged. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The remaining few days prior to the marathon, I'll continue to run and soak in the atmosphere at KLCC parking where the surge of runners seen positively, and go get a haircut. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>This year, I'll be running for the struggling overweight guys who dares to get up and exercise for their health (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">jangan lah cakap chewah...</span>).</i></span></span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-52321662368372403322011-06-13T10:21:00.000-07:002011-06-13T10:21:57.999-07:00<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Oh-my-freaking-God! Standard Chartered KL Marathon 2011 is just 11 days away!</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was browsing their website just now and the clock is ticking like a death sentence. 11-freaking days. I kid you not - I am scared. The last time I ran the distance was year, so there it is. I do not know how my friends could do a FM every other weekend nowadays like squeezing Febreeze into the air - I cannot even begin to fathom how gigantic a scale this is.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I know some people are thinking I am kidding myself, that I am ready for this etc etc etc. To be frankly honest - I am not sure. My heart is not entirely saying yes, and my feet are still pretty much in the box in the store. When the day comes, I will have chills and the whole animal kingdom drumming in me. I forgot that running a marathon is not an easy feat.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I need to finish compiling my playlist this weekend!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I need to finalise my pace note. One plan is to run with Izuan, so we'd push each other, but we'll see. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I need to visualize the routes again, and psyche myself that the Jalan Ipon and Jalan Kuching stretch is not that bad.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I need to get my hydration and meal acts together, and start stuffing them.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I need to think of the reward for me post race - most probably some long sleep and lounging around doing nothing.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And this year I will be missing some fellow comrades. Surely not as fun. </span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-60059089328959088142011-06-07T18:10:00.000-07:002011-06-07T18:10:59.210-07:00Outrunning Fear<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ooops, sorry if you are expecting something else. I am still fighting a demon in me.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">"<i>A lot of confidence is built by overcoming fears," - Peter Gilmore (</i></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><a href="http://www.infiniterunning.%20com/" style="color: #1d71a8; text-decoration: none;">infiniterunning. com</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">). </span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"These sessions show that you're physically capable, so mentally you become more self-assured on race day." </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 18px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><b>THE FEAR: NOT FINISHING</b></span></i></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;">New distances can intimidate runners. To move beyond the fear of the unknown, focus on volume with long runs that extend beyond race distance (except for marathoners). "Physically, it's essential," says Gilmore, "and mentally, you see that you can accomplish it."</span></i></span></span></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large; font-style: italic; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><b>THE WORKOUT: LONG RUNS</b></span></i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><b></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;">Complete three long runs that are one to two miles longer than your goal race distance (22 miles for the marathon). One run proves you can do it; three seals the deal. Slow the pace so you end strong—another confidence-booster, says Gilmore.</span></i></span></span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">*tarik nafas*...</span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-42247878213711385712011-06-07T01:33:00.000-07:002011-06-07T01:33:39.822-07:00<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Waking up to run the trails at FRIM felt more effortless, as compared to braving the sub-6 a.m. traffic to Bukit Aman, that I know. With Standard Chartered KL Marathon seemed like a gaping crocodile downstream, I can't help to think how handicapped I am, as compared to where I was in the same spot last year.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The question is what happened? </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I had planned a long 30 on Saturday, but thanks to a Japan-bound colleague and high sugar, I woke up just before 7, and FRIM seemed like a viable option. It was however a stressed run, having to endure the sleepy and deserted trails. No fleeting laughters, or chasing up smokes and catching up on races whatsoever from running buddies, either nursing injuries, or hard at training elsewhere.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But it is always nice to conquer the Steroid Hill, and the hurried rush running down it, although every step was not without constant reassurance to keep me going. Had it be for my heart, I might have stopped at the Tea House.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Come Sunday, I was ignorant enough to attempt a 30, from Bukit Aman to Kiara and back. The moment I stepped out of the carpark, everything in and on me started their loudest protests. I thought I would need to make a U-turn as close as from JKR buildings had it not because of the thought of a wedding coming up that afternoon. Most psyching myself did not work that morning. But in between talking myself through, I arrived at Tijani, and the final push into Jalan Duta. I stopped, and turned back. I cannot run all the way if I am not enjoying it. The hell with it! </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It was when I was climbing Double Hills when I realised that I have been sleep deprived for weeks! My pace was everywhere, the chocolate bar and vanilla cream for breakfast felt heavy in me. Suddenly I cursed on 2 bottles of gatorade in my back - such unnecessary weight for nothing if I do not even reach Hartamas. What was a seamless solo run towards Petronas becomes so alien to me. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So that's it! I just need to get more snooze time (which is quite impossible with my current workload) and I'll be OK.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">*<i>standing up</i>* I am a runaholic, and I am fighting my running blues...</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">When people asked, I'd say that it's off-season.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I just need to get back in the groove. I think it is time to return to small 10k road races, provided their fees are not costing my limbs. The immediate one shall be Siemens Run. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Oh, by the way, anyone looking for a (possible) TNF100 partner? </span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441814424061718941.post-44864960542348001392011-05-30T23:50:00.000-07:002011-05-30T23:51:48.711-07:00Click!<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Everyone should press the button 'Refresh' once in a while. Been quite a stretch since I pressed mine. I suppose when I actually said that work takes priority, and my runs shall supplement my work - I hardly understand then what I was talking about. I did not fully understand the demands it entails, and how was I going to react to them.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Many things zoomed past in the last few months. Dailymile has taken a role of what this blog used to do. What it is as a place to log in trainings and my feelings at the time of training has become a place of sheer mockery at times, as many feel-good comments are made simply out of obligations. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Although it is still exciting to chart progress, it also serves as a grim reminder of how much I was lacking. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Lacking - another word to define you are not self-worthy. Nowhere near good enough. And when we say we train, we want to be great! For some reason, at this moment I felt that it is a wrong concept. Great for what?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Reality check - <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">this is the Marathon month!</span></b> Standard Chartered KL Marathon 2011 is finally lurking behind the next corner, and there is nothing I could do, except if I were to choose to DNS. My trainings have been inconsistent, and crappy at most. Many weeks when I was supposed to peak, I chickened out and bury my face deep in Building By-Laws, National Land Code etc. With my last full marathon actually was SCKLM 2010, I am freaking. A PB? </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not a chance!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Through series of interviews that I have had in the past weeks, I advocated about my passion for running, and the healthy lifestyle. But what I have expressed seemed to be a one side of the coin, where the other darker side gives me a sadist addiction that sucks me dry all the time. If you are in same shoes, you'll understand what kind of addiction I am talking about.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But talking to medium of why did I first started running in the first place, and in reflection of where I am at the moment gives me a massive blow. A big reality check. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">BIG!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have steered off course from a point when I started this. While I am thankful that people draw inspiration from me, but I need to dig deep to draw inspirations myself. And that should start with me.</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP_R-Mjdiv6gxeZCob-3bnqkzguUwrlcpWlGyp-s3b1l4s1mbPKJIP9bj7XTAORJLjvwREPJLMd5NtccNhgII5D39M-Ls9L4pQKKKKklE7sLdBL4Yxh6L0VOGymYmVT_UeO4sK_NHWUWKz/s1600/DSCF0576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP_R-Mjdiv6gxeZCob-3bnqkzguUwrlcpWlGyp-s3b1l4s1mbPKJIP9bj7XTAORJLjvwREPJLMd5NtccNhgII5D39M-Ls9L4pQKKKKklE7sLdBL4Yxh6L0VOGymYmVT_UeO4sK_NHWUWKz/s400/DSCF0576.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The deck chair is Godsent! Super easy on my back pain! And with the cool breeze, lounging at the balcony was almost therapeutic!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I returned to the office after a 3-weeks study break, and that ended my fling with food. Honestly, the days I spent getting all bored reading legislations, Acts and Code of Conducts, I minimised my physical activities on a pretext to stay out of trouble. No rain-running, no over-swimming, no over-distanced, etc. Flu bug is the last thing I'd want to catch which may halt me to a grinding headache and bedridden days with running nose and no books. And at the same time was a constant flow of placebos. I made myself to believe that I need caffeine and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">junk food</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> to stay awake etc, and such false allegations I forced onto myself I shall never repeat. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Everything goes through a phase. Towards the end of it all, I had massive headaches for a week, which I called as acid lactic build-up in my head. And the enormous feeling of restraint, not being able to find time to run and swim - disappointing.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am thankful all the things I have learnt over the years have (so far) kept me within the safe side of the ledge, but I suppose if I am not careful, I'd tip over and slip.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>touch wood</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anyway, it is good to read all friends are doing exceptionally well, running around the globe and enjoying themselves. This Tuesday morning, I raise my mug of hot <i>teh 'O' kurang manis</i> to you guys. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>iamsyahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07263670875116290036noreply@blogger.com13