Tricky Wondalund…

If you think these are a string of lucky numbers, it’s not. Runner #3560 (that’s me), out of 11,000 others, what i termed “motivateds”, who decided that there is nothing better than getting up at 6am for a 15km run. Did i ever think in my life that I would be able to run a race? Never. Did i think that if i did run a race, that i could pull a 15 click run for my first virgin run? Also never. So, 24 May 2009 is a special day. Definitely. At a timing that I am glad to say, I am not totally embarressed about too 1:53:32. 

Me and Eunice Hi-5 eachother at the finish line!

Numbers aside, there is nothing more fun than the feeling of doing the impossible. While the last few months of my life have been a consistent reminder of “Pauline doesn’t have” and even worst, “No, Pauline doesn’t get”, it’s great to know that there are some things where democracy still persists and input becomes output, very simply. No excuses about external market factors, no laments about “I should have done things differently” and best of all, no b.s having to deal with someone elses’ tantrums and moods. It’s all on you (or me, in this case).

I learnt a couple of things today. That the body is pretty resilient. 3 kilometers in, i literally run into a branch. Not so glamourous. But not serious enough to get outted of the race. I persist. 8km in, I am seriously regretting not bringing my ipod because there is this T-pain track that is absolutely running-licious. Somewhere along the 11km mark, I feel my shoulders aching. Aiks. The mind is bored but can be easily trained to just focus on hardbodies on the running track. Nice. That despite the heat and the dry throat and the heavy legs, one can keep going. Much like an analogy for life. There was even a couple that insisted on running holding hands. 

Branched, but not benched :)

Past the initial fanfare of the crowd and the high school cheerleaders who had to fulfill school credits by performing forced volunteer duties, the final bits of the race are pretty silent. It’s just humans, sweat and bodies persisting. There is a silent shuffle of feet as shoes hit the pavement and heavy breathing. It’s all very insular i suppose. There is a silent nod when someone overtakes. Past the 10km mark, the runners are as one, strangers in real life but united in a common cause. There is some camaraderie as people swap stories and ask each other about their run times. Much congratulations are sent around. 

I am excited to see the 13km mark and a big sign that shouts out “one more mile”. This is great! I am waaaayyy ahead of my timing, except…I don’t recall the finish line being anywhere even close to where i am. It is pure providence that i decide to stop at the water station because it wasn’t 2km to the finish line and i would seriously died of dehydration. It was more like 5km. Somone obviously couldnt count and put up the signboards wrongly. Bleah…still, pyschologically, it’s always better to know you are 2km from the finish line than not.

On y va!

Even better is to have your best friends take you out for a stinky brunch after. Audrey is absolutely distraught about her fine leather seats in her bmw smelling like dog. i would be too.

a fine treat

where is the food?

Running IS the new democracy. It doesn’t matter if you are short, or thin or plump, it’s about getting a pair of good shoes and just drilling the mental mind to accept pain, fatigue and absolute satisfaction. I salute everyone that did it! I am totally addicted and can’t wait to train up for my next half-marathon (at a better timing). The time has come and all those painful sessions of boot camp has paid off!

Run with me!!

Happy, happy finisher