beyond cut off

IM a Honeymooner!

2010-12-11T09:49:00.000-08:00

The last two weeks have been a blast.

The past two months actually.

No, the last two years.

It all started on Nov 16, 2008.

I had just completed the Penang Bridge Marathon. I had traveled with Mac, Adeline and Yit Thing. Yit Thing left shortly after race and I decided to stay back an extra night with Mac and Adeline. It had been a good race. That night, we decided to go to Gurney Plaza to pass the time after a lovely celebration dinner. I clearly remember wanting to buy Ribena to enjoy it as a nightcap. As Adeline and I walked to the supermarket I checked my emails via mobile and there was an email from Arif.

A pretty long one.

A pretty sweet one.

One that made me walk the store in loops for close to 20 minutes just trying to read what it was getting at.

One that ended with four very definitive words: will you marry me?

Four words that made me happy, confused, dizzy, and forgetful of my Ribena. I didn't immediately reply 'yes' as i thought electronic proposals shouldn't count no matter how independent and modern we are. A girl's got to keep her traditions! I didn't get my Ribena either.

I finally said 'yes' in April, 2009 after he tried to rectify the situation a couple more times to a girl's liking and we decided that 10.10.10 would have been a cool date to tie the knot.

Fast forward two months back (woah! fast forward to the past - that's gotta hurt the brain a bit!)

October 2010, we tied the knot as planned.

As many know, we announced that IMWA 2010 would be our honeymoon. How else would us nutters celebrate our union, right?

Well.. that's not exactly how the story went..

In December 2009, I changed jobs. And along with that came a mountain load of work commitments. So much so that there was a chance that I would be missing Langkawi in February the coming year. Fully paid for, going down the drain.

Know how there's that Ironman line that goes "do it once, brag for a lifetime"? well, I kinda disagree with that. To me, Ironman has become a membership that you had to renew every year. And you're always just as good as your last Ironman race (so if you're still talking about your last race, move on! do a better one at your next membership renewal)

So, feeling really bumped about the possibility of missing Langkawi, Arif and I made a pact that if I did indeed lapse my annual membership renewal in Langkawi we will do it elsewhere. And to stay clear of any work commitments, we chose IMWA at the end of the year. And called it our honeymoon.

As luck would have it, i did get to race Langkawi and soon it dawned on me that 2010 was the year of the double Ironman membership renewal.

2010 passed in a blink of an eye.

First we were discussing IMWA, next we were making registrations and reservations, i was tied down with work, then we were (well, i was) panicking for the lack of training, i was working some more, then we were getting hitch, more work, then flight, then overnight at airport, then we saw the "Welcome to Busselton" signboard, then we were waking up at 3am and i was sitting on the edge of the bed eating a Vegemite roll thinking... what the hell happened?!

I had no clue what had happened but i know i was sitting there in the silence, eating my vegemite roll preparing for my second Ironman for the year.

I am under trained, overweight, and freezing.. how can this possibly be summer?

Race morning was crisp.

The cold overnight air had made my bike computer wonky, but arif skillfully fixed it. I spent a good 15 minutes stuffing my over sized butt into my wet suit as the announcer said "the water temperature is 21 degrees, wet suit optional" (optional my ass!). And the whole time i could have sworn that wet suit shrank overnight.

Waddled down to start line like a seal and tried forcefully breathing to keep warm and calm. Heard the air horn and a way we went.. most of them at least.

I am a believer of not trying anything new on raceday. So the day before, arif, dennis and i tried out our wet suit in the cold WA waters. Pretty creepy when the water seeps in through the zipper but other than that, the wet suit's kinda cool.

NOT!

I experienced what many would know as the "car warranty" syndrome. Your car's warranty lasts for 2 years and the day after that, it starts to break down.

I have swam a total of 200m and a little more in my wet suit since getting it. So as the syndrome goes, come the 200m marker I was in trouble. Wet suit was too tight, I couldn't breath and I could hardly pull off a good stroke.

So, being the smart kampung chick that I am, I figured "let's unzip, we'll definitely breathe better after that"..

Bad move.

Icy waters flushed into the wet suit as soon as I unzipped. And it being a Blue Seventy suit (zip upwards to release), i had a gapping hole and soon a heavy suit. Worse still, my arms now have restricted movement.

Being smarter still, I figured "Let's just remove the sleeves, more flexibility for movement then.."

(does this girl ever learn??!)

So there I was, still at marker 200m, bopping while the rest are gone, struggling to swim with loose sleeves and a wet suit full of water. To the point that I actually panicked, thinking I was going to drown.

Did a quick mental slap and raised my hand. A marshal on surfboard came by.

"Are you ready to quit?", he says

Senn's brain: YES!

Senn's pride: Nah, just wanna remove my wet suit

The marshal looked like a frowning seagull - blank faced and doubting if he heard me right.

Although my pride kept me in the race, i didn't have much of it left the way I was wriggling on and slipping off the board trying the get the wet suit pass my childbearing hips! Soon, the marshal called for backup - a lifeguard boat.

"Are you ready to quit?", the marshal on boat said

"Nah, just wanting to remove my wet suit"

Another frowning seagull.

Mr seagull fished me out, yanked my wet suit off and threw me back into the sea.

I'm Free! I'm Free! I'm freezing... and I'm last.

The rest of the swim was a struggle with the cold conditions, the unsettling experience and of course, the lack of training. But the marshals kept close eye on me so I felt really safe.

500m to shore, my swim cap pops out of my scalp. Raised my hand again, was asked if I'm quiting again, replied no.. again.. swim cap back on and headed straight for shore.

Finally exited the swim at 1:59 and found my bike with ease!

The rest of the race was pretty usual.. last few, but consistently moving forward. This race was different though.

I have never had to deal with so many "quitting demons" before!

I was lapped by majority of the competitors by 30k on the bike and my last loop only had 8 of us cycling through it. Don't get me wrong, the supporters were great but I somehow kept feeling alone and like I wasn't going to make cut off.

Supporters called me by name. Supporters gave me great words of encouragement. Supporters egged me on. But somehow, I was lonely.

I finally crossed at 16:23, happy.

Some thought it was amazing to the point of it being disgusting that I could finish with the absence of training. Some applauded my mental strength (or as Arif calls it - stubbornness to finish). I think what helped me cross the finish line was a little luck, experience and great memories.

Lucky that I still made it back on the swim on time, lucky that i had no punctures on the bike and lucky that weather was great for the run.

Experienced enough to know that it will hurt. experience enough to know that you just have to keep at it. If you must rest, go slower, don't stop for long periods so at least you are moving forward, at whatever the speed.

Memories are my favourite weapon this time around for crossing the finishing line at IMWA. See, supporters call out my name, but they don't know me. They know my bib and that's where they know my name. They don't know my story. They don't know my journey.

As soon as I realised this, i pulled out a memory each time I felt like quiting. And I had tonnes of them!

Here are my top 10 favourites and my reciprocating thoughts:

1. Bad swim: well, i came out 2 hours at Langkawi earlier this year and still made cut off.. O! and in 2009 I had a hole in my foot! So what's finishing 1:59 in the cold?

2. Strong headwinds: far better than the scorching heat of Langkawi and those steep hills!

3. Slow bike: i think mom and dad would have drove pass me, shoot silly videos with thumbs up and call my name. I also instant replay Arif shouting he loves me from his bike going in the opposite direction.

4. Struggling to make good time buffer on bike for run: at least i can keep time. With a little imagination i can see Bandit around the corner ready to give me his watch!

5. Last few to start the run: i hear my dad egging me.. and me asking him to shut up. this memory was played repeatedly as it happens at ALL races, making it tradition and a sign that I'm gonna give it all I've got to finish.

6. Passed by runner with two loop bands and i haven't gotten my first: i hear Ishsal calculating lap times for me and saying "babe, 45minutes per 5k, you'll make it in good time". I managed a constant 1:30 every 10k throughout with this on constant mental replay.

7. I want to stop: just go a little further - Mac, Shazly and the camera gang will be there.. smile!

8. It's cold and dark and lonely and miserable: Arif going "it's ok baby. It's our honeymoon. Just have fun, finish this and we'll have a ball"

9. Stupid honeymoon: Arif "baby, this is the greatest honeymoon idea!"

10. Last 3 out here in the dark: Stupe and Aileen are walking hand in hand just ahead. keep going.

Arif and I may have traveled far for IMWA but I had my best IM memories close to heart to carry me to the finish line. It was also great to know we weren't forgotten at home.

Stupe had made great effort to record our race status. Mac was watching closely (I'm sure many others were keeping watch too) And my parents had a party for two with live streaming at home.

Dad captured my finish on screen with his iphone and made a mini video of mom doing a victory dance next to the TV. I'll post these on FB once I get a hold of it - very cute!

It was a hard race for me. Had it not been for experience and fond memories I can quite frankly say I would have DNFed IMWA. So when I crossed the finishing line, two things came to mind:

1. Yessss... now the honeymoon starts

2. maybe i should retire for a bit

But after seeing what friends back home were doing and mom's victory dance it's pretty hard to let go.

My past two weeks had been a blast. I went on leave after a year of stress at work, finished my second Ironman for the year, and had a great honeymoon.

So will I continue in 2011?

Not too sure, I have after all, renewed my membership twice this year thanks again to friends and family who continue to believe I can. Maybe I'll consider IMWA as my 2011 membership renewal and take a break.

Then again.. Arif did say the honeymoon never ends, so maybe I'll just do honeymoon IMs from now on.. :)

The year I raced amongst IRONMEN

2010-03-01T23:21:00.000-08:00

This blog is one year in the making.

The scene was 1 March 2009. We had just finished the 2009 IM, Langkawi the day before and I had injured my foot. So, complete with crunches, Arif and I met a group of other IM finishers at Sunba in Chenang. As we excitedly exchanged our race adventures, the topic turned to feelings we had at the finishing line. Naturally, the common feeling was exhilarating and totally emotional.

Exempt one comment: “I don’t know why, but I feel nothing special or emotionally overwhelming as I cross the finish line. Sure, I’m happy, but it’s just another finish to me.”

That started my one year of understanding this comment.

Over the year, the comment flashed in my memory, especially the day before and after any race I’ve participated. While I’m sure it was a passing remark and one made by a person well deserving the IM title. It still haunted me. Thoughts ranged from “wow.. that was mechanical” to “am I overreacting?” to “maybe it is overrated after all, and only true IM finishers feel like it’s just another day. Newbies have higher tendencies of being exposed to cheap thrills”.

By mid of 2009, I have concluded that perhaps there is a difference between IM finishers and an Ironman. But I toyed with this concept without much substance for the remaining of the year..

..until last Saturday.

Last Saturday, I started and finished my fourth Ironman Langkawi (3rd if you’re anal about timing). And somewhere between 100k and 110k on the bike, the answer to my concept was revealed. It was later confirmed during the run.

To be an IM finisher you must SWIM 3.8k within 2:20, BIKE 180k within 10:30 hours from start, and RUN 42.2k within the 17 hours cut off. In between, there are intermediate cut off times for the bike and the run. Whether you train like mad or train like me (ZERO!!), you are subjected to these race regulations in order to qualify. Your materialistic rewards are a medal, finisher T, a cert and a towel. Whatever the speed, whatever the time, you just have to cross the finishing line within those time zones.

An Ironman, is a different story altogether.

Now, before I start, don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing small about being an IM finisher. It’s a big feat and I admire anyone who’s at the start line regardless of how their race turned out. Like all my other entries, this is just my point of view and sharing of experience.

An Ironman, by my personal definition, is one who understands the spirit of the race.

The spirit of IM that encompasses fear, anxiety, camaraderie, compassion, support and shared glory.. just to name a few.

Because of the race distance, there is only so far your physical body can take you. Once in motion, it becomes automatic and what drives you then, is your determination and mental strength. And while we all have our purchased nutrition to keep our bodies fuelled, we only have one way to truly fuel our determination and mental strength on such distance races.

They are called supporters.

Loved ones, best buddies, strangers. Whoever they may be to you, they are out there because of you. I doubt any of them would choose a hot day of stress, paying to go to race venue just to lose they voice from cheering if they didn’t share the passion… or in this case, understood the spirit of the race.

For example, my bestest friend in the world has never supported me at Langkawi. The closest she came, was 2 hours at Putrajaya Half Ironman last October. Even then, it was only after putting her on a guilt trip for months. She watched me on my bike leg, but didn’t stay till I finished. Do I still love her? SURE! Does she love me? ALWAYS.. but some things, she just doesn’t understand.

So, back to supporters.

I had a relatively hard swim with the strong currents. My minimal training on the bike made the 180k even tougher. This was the year many heroes fell. One by one, news of IM hopefuls calling it a day was communicated to me through supporters doing their rounds. Even more surprising was when I rode one lap with a buddy, only to have him cheer me on during the next lap in a supporter car.

This was also the year of strange requests from me.

After the 100k mark, I checked my timing only to find that my watch had ‘kaput-ed’. Within the next 10k I bumped into Bandit and Arif. Arif had decided to call it a day and good thing he did as the day's temperature checked in at 46 degrees and he could not keep any of his nutrition down. ON TOP OF THAT, water stations have started to run out of water and bottles. One particular station even offered to clean a recycled Gatorade bottle buried in mud and fill it with tap water for me! Horror!

As I approached Bandit, the familiar shouts of “water?! Gatorade?! Food?! What do you need?! What do you need?!” started.

My reply: I need a watch!

Two seconds of silence..

His reply: OK! Take mine.

We exchanged watches, gave Arif my love and went on my way.

I made it back to transition with good time to spare and started on my run, which was of course, more of a walk.

As the evening turned to night, I was getting lonely and still on my second loop. 3 hours had passed and I haven’t completed 16k yet. I was in big trouble of missing cutoff. Even the cheers I got from the side walk wasn’t motivating me enough to move faster.

Crestfallen, tired and feeling defeated I heard a familiar voice.

He said: Did you think I would let you do this alone? I will not leave you now!

I looked to my right and my knight in shining amour beamed. I had met Ishsal on top of Bkt Hantu during my last loop on the bike and was surprised he called it a day and chose to instead hand out a variety of drinks: water, cincau, ice lemon tea. I did not expect him to find me on the run, but was very glad he did.

And so our mission to make me finish the race within cutoff begins. Ishsal provided time calculations while I provided the strength to just plough through and holding back on tears of defeated so it doesn’t stress the situation any further.

As we walked, he motivated and congratulated me on small feats like making the turnaround faster than the estimated time (even when it was only 3 minutes faster!). We passed Arif and his boys at the end of each loop towards SeaView hotel. And although they were sweet to hang around and cheer, I could only muster a wave. Pity I was too slow as his elder decided to call it a night rather than watch the finish line.

Somewhere during the 3rd loop, Ishsal asked if there was anything else I needed.

I replied: A cheeseburger would be nice.

Another familiar two seconds of silence..

His reply: OK! Can!

He made his call to his sayang Zee, and it was all arranged. In less than 30minutes, I had a cheeseburger – hand delivered to me. I have NEVER EVER been treated so royally in any race! Imagine that.. wearing Bandit’s watch and now Zee goes through the challenge of closed roads to get me a cheeseburger!

I slowly ate the cheeseburger in parts and it lasted for the last 20k odd.

As cutoff closed in on us, my mind started playing tricks on me. I asked nonsensical questions like “can I cover 3k in 45 mins?” and “Do you think there’s still people waiting for me at the finishing line?” (this at 200m left and there’s clearly music pumping and crowd cheering.)

Ishsal knew I had lost it but kept his calm. Words like “do it for dad”, “imagine the glory” even “just 4 more milestones – may yi restaurant, the bridge, seaview, finish line”. I repeated after him like a mantra. He kept his comments coming to keep me in focus. Anything and everything just to keep me going.. including pouring bottles of cold water every few minutes in the dead on night!

Zee was no less a great support as she kept Kam company and pulled him through to finish ahead of me. And also accompanying Stupe who was behind me.

This year was the first time I’ve ever walked to the finish line. Stupe had made great time by jogging and caught up with me. In his gentleman way, he gave me a small nudge to let me finish first. However, given the situation and wobbly legs, the nudge almost toppled me!

Crossing the finish line was indeed everything that I had told myself. The proud smile on dad’s face and warm embrace from mom.

As the organizer gave me my materialistic rewards for finishing within cutoff, I only felt one thing: gratitude.

I am grateful that I have friends who share my passion and understand the spirit of the race more than I do, even though they did not race. Friends who go through endless last minute planning and coordination to make sure not only me, but all under their watch on raceday experience the best race they possibly can. And more gallantly, actually make it their personal mission to drag us pass the finish line within cutoff as if there is a silent code of “whatever it takes and no one gets left behind”.

Every year, every race is a new lesson. My lesson this year is there IS a difference between an IM finisher and an Ironman.

An Ironman is a belief, a passion. Whether you finished as an Ironman is irrelevant as long as your heart understood what it takes to be one when the flare went off. Whether you RACED or SUPPORTED is irrelevant as well. Because on either side of the spectrum, you understand the passion and you drive a common goal.

My lesson this year is I am an IM Finisher but I am an IRONMAN because of my IRONMAN SUPPORTERS.

++++++++++++

Special Thank yous:

Arif – For bringing the boys out to cheer for me, and doing what you’ve never done before: leaving them unattended in the hotel room to see me after I finish.

Bandit – For your fussing and watch. You are by far my favourite IRONMAN SUPPORTER

Edwin – For sharing your water on the bike

Ishsal – For making sure I finish within cutoff

Mac – For all that you do and so much more. Everything is a plan and you’re the best guy for the job

Shazly – for bringing me Gatorade

Zee – For the cheeseburger! It was a make or break time for me and you made it better!

Abang, Adik, Alisa, AJ, Julie, Nik, Omar, Shiraz, Adeline, Ai leen, Azura, Khun Tip, Abu, Patrick and many more – Thanks for the endless cheer and encouragement, would not have done it without you. :)

DRAMAthlete

2009-06-29T01:23:00.000-07:00

Because we all love hollywood...

in one of my earliest post i spoke about the difference between a TRIathlete and a TRYathlete. i spoke about the guiding principles that make and differentiate the two sets of athletes in the triathlon universe and how both are celebrated depending on your aim in this universe.

last night while celebrating arif's first sub-5 marathon despite worrying about a returning knee injury just two days before and reminiscing about how far we've come since our first sprint together at a'famosa i realised TWO things:

1. dawning of a new era
while he has had tremendous improvement in his performance (albeit slower progress than he would have liked, and me thinking he's fantastic) i had pretty much stayed where i am. YET amongst good friends we have been blessed with equal support, encouragement, compliments and our fair share of loving 'fans' (i.e not people who worship us but people who genuinely care and like to track our well being in the tri universe)

it got me thinking about that try-triathlete post and suddenly it dawned on me that my favourite tryathlete was becoming a triathlete. he, of course, was a bit sad.
our conversation went something like this:
A: but baby, my blog is called Trying to Tri and the blogspot is TRYathlete1403!
S: well i'm still beyond cut off after finishing within cut of.. so go figure. change it if you wanna be correct about it
S: and when people ask you why you do this, you can no longer say because it's fun.
A: but it is!
S: baby, your definition of fun is different from norm. your idea of fun is aiming to clock 50k run weeks. that to the NORMAL human (not even the average human) is nuts.
A: but that is fun.. :(
S: yes of course! for a TRIathlete..
A: ... :(

He then put up a small effort to justify that he was still a recreational athlete. poor guy didn't stand a chance when i started asking if his training schedule had recreation written all over it (had to name every training schedule and behaviour and forced him to admit that he actually enjoyed the training pattern he designed himself). he felt better after i told him that there's no shame in what he is slowly becoming. of course there's more room to grow, more hours needed, better more structured training to be formed but if he held on to being recreational, his mindset would be holding him back. it would be an excuse to say 'ah well, missed the timing.. that's ok. i'm recreational after all' (two 10ks + one 15k + one 20k per week in mind - recreational my arse!)

after much rationalising, reassurance and showing him how proud i was that he was naturally evolving into a different kind of athlete we 'cheers-ed' to a new beginning.

*naturally, if he ever wanted to be a tryathlete again, we will still applaud him and welcome him with open arms. or if he decides to swing both ways and become a... BIathlete perhaps? hey, any thing's better than being a couch potato - but let's leave the BIs for another time!

2. becoming diva
which then left the other part of the conversation: me.
my question was how was it possible to be congratulated and complimented when i'm, as newly defined by arif, 'euro-cool' about training?
(euro-cool = to train by FEEL. only train if and when i feel like it and even if i was training, i only push when i feel like it and never on someone else's terms)

how is it that i manage to outgrow my newbie status but kept newbie performances (or sometimes even worse than newbies) and still celebrate my 'achievements' of finishing a race? heck, even my dnf at powerman last year was somewhat celebrated.

one word: DRAMA.

yup. it's no longer about what i accomplished but HOW i accomplished it. finishing remains important but how it was achieved gave my races life.

think about it: i am slowly but quite surely becoming a DRAMAthlete:
powerman 2008: dnf because i passed out at such an early stage of the race. had to be whirled back in a van to the ambulance that was not prepared because it was too early in the race.
IM2009: completed with a not particularly fantastic time, but with a hole in my foot and hospitalised for 5 days after that
NB15k: took me close to 4hours to finish and i tore some back muscle fibers that took me out of action for 10 days with help of double dose painkillers

and my latest epic: SCKLM, 7 hours but what happened?

this is what happened: (caution: graphic details entrails. stop reading if you have a weak stomach)

the truth: did not train. plain and simple, hence 7 hours.
the truth well sold: this needs more flair

my target was to try a get a new pb timing. which meant an easy sub-6. what happened apart from euro-cool training the months before was that my last official water station was about 15k into the race. i was so slow, the water stations had ran out of water from the 21k mark onwards. after that 15k water station, i relied heavily on the charity of friends like Azmar who gave me a powerbar and water at about 17k and Budin who bought me a bottle of water at 21k, and a race official that swapped my bottle at 25k when he saw me refueling water at the shell station's men's toilet. thankfully the water stations at later parts (35k, 38k and 40k) were replenished by the time i got there.

but you would wonder: she needed a whole bottle at 17, 21 and 25?? was she showering herself? why so much water for such short distances between?

well, it's a bit embarrassing to say, but i needed it to 'kinda' shower. more like legs and below.

erm.. ok here goes (gory! gory!)

somewhere between 15k and 17k, i felt the familiar warmth of the month. not kidding. i realised i didn't bother calculating this month and did a quick mental date check and voila! 'relatives' had arrived on schedule.

bummer.

then the dull cramps set in and my back felt a bit sore.

double bummer.

THEN! it started to trickle.

DRAMA!!

first thing that came to mind was 'and to think i wanted to wear a white skirt this morning!'.

and since i had no money and medic was not even sophisticated enough to have counterpain let alone a sanitary pad, i had to wash myself to avoid noticeable traces with every blob, and trickle.

quite tricky since it was already starting to get bright by that time and i wanted to avoid running in wet, blood stained socks! (sorry.. but there's more)

anyway, good thing is i was wearing a black skirt, so this hid the nasty stain and the mess on my inner thighs.

bad thing is i was wearing a skirt, which held more water when wet than normal shorts.

the entire race after that, so that's for about 25k or close to 5 hours i ran/jogged/walked with a dripping skirt, a suspicious looking trail, wet inner thighs, deteriorating energy level and limited water supply.

see the drama?

probably psychological about lack of energy with blood loss and being immensely uncomfortable, by the time i reached the finish line i thought i was going to collapse.

good thing stupe was there to take me to the finish line.

AND to add drama, i approached the finishing line with the clock striking twelve: the mellow bell was ringing. comfort and encouragement from stupe. my dad's voice shouting from the nearby pavement...'hurry senn! the clock is striking twelve'. i honestly felt like cinderella rushing home before my carriage disappeared!

bad thing stupe was there to shower me while i sat on a white plastic chair! (sorry stupe, i really appreciated and enjoyed the shower. just didn't realise the mess it made after!)

fully drenched, the mess became worst. stains were just trickling and dripping uncontrollably. i was in the medal tent with some 15 other late comers and i didn't want to get up from my white chair. i asked arif if it was noticeable and he said (rather calmly i thought) 'you're dripping blobs through the chair'.

finally mustered the courage and thick skin to just get up. got a couple of worried stares from knowing women about the familiar coloured pool left on the chair, and walked back to the car looking like i was wounded waist down.

dad made me sit on a doubled towel and drove his princess home - knackered and admittedly defeated from the race.

was that good drama or bad drama? i'll let you critics decide.

i'll just admit this much: i am a dramathlete. love hollywood but may appear more bollywod at races.

a drama queen full on.. but honestly not on purpose.

may even start writing race trailers rather than reports! (not that i reported much facts in the past anyway!)

*from the racer of 'there's a hole in my foot' and 'bloody hell!'. IM70.30 Putrajaya.. what would you do if this happened to you? - coming this july*

p.s my dad did great for his first 21k by the way. he said he's motivation was to say 'c'mon senn!' to himself, hoping to fool his mental game and not give up. 3:02 and mighty proud.. :)

I am MACHO

2009-05-05T01:52:00.000-07:00

If you're a person looking for a new hobby, whatever it may be, it pays to listen to those that are already in the hobby for advice.

How many of us have done something on an 'introductory' level yonks ago and then decide to take it up for real and think you can wing it base on your past experience?

How many of us in this group then think that things could not have been so different from the past experience and that you would know what to do and don't see what the fuss is all about?

I know a couple of people and have been one myself.

I'm also the sister of one such person.

For months now dad has been cycling on his own. I bought him an old steel bike and it seem to work well for him. Nothing fast, nothing far.. just leisure morning rides on his own, at his own pace.

Dad has also been proud of his progress. Conquering from 5k to 15k now 20k ride with a 5k run after.

And like any proud man, my dad has been cornering everybody in the family and telling them of his daily conquest. Always ending with the same line "not bad, huh?"

With me, the line goes "i'm not racing like you.. i go steady.. not bad, huh?"

My second brother, Lok, is one of my dad's favourite victim. And like a fish to bait, lok always falls for dad's "not bad, huh?" trick.

What's the trick?

Well, i believe dad says that line for a purpose. Like a bait to talk more about his conquest.

In the past i had teased him and he would continue like a broken record what he did and always end the same.

"not bad, huh?" was dad's way of saying "ask me, tease me, mock me, i wanna tell you more about my conquest!". some conversations can have him saying that for 3 times!

being his only actively cycling daughter, i was most exposed to this trick but learned pretty quick that if you wanted the subject changed, just say "yup" and smile.

there will be silence.. it will be uncomfortable.. but hold your stand. just say nothing.

if you are disciplined enough, this is what dad will do (in sequence):
1. he will swing and clap his hand (like trying to loosen his shoulders)
2. mumble to himself "yeah.. not bad"
3. one hand on waist, the other touching his imaginary stubbles
4. stay quiet for a few seconds.. then say "yeah, ok.."
5. leave you in peace.

Lok on the other hand, never learned this trick.

Every "not bad, huh?" thrown at him has been lapped up like a hungry puppy.

Lok would tease, laugh, ridicule, and give a sacri remark much to my dad's pleasure. And they would go on throughout dinner.

Two weeks back lok said he wanted to do some excercise. Dad pounced on the idea and suggested cycling (followed by daily conquest and bait question)

Lokker didn't have a chance.

Lok's view of cycling was this:
1. "it's an easy hobby, i did it all the time as a kid"
2. "what's the fuss about the tight shorts?"
3. "dad rides a BIG seat!"

so 'heated' was the discussion of cycling to exercise because lokker didn't believe it was much of a challenge or a hobby to fuss about.

finally, a 20k challenge was set up between dad and lok with me as the referee. the date was set at that week's coming saturday itself.

The father vs son 20km challenge was simple, it was not about speed and there was no prize-winner. It was more of a pride thing and the first person to koyak/get off the bike loses.

The day started early, 6.30am at my house in putrajaya.

My dad was very steady throughout, cruising at his own speed, about 20-25km/h.

Lok was a different story.

Here's the conversation snippets I had with him that will give you an idea of what i mean:
6:45am, 0km
Senn: Lok, i think you need to wear cycling shorts. here's mine, i never wore it .. too big.
Lok: er.. ok. looks gay
Senn: grey? ya it's grey.
Lok: no, gay.. gay..
Senn: just wear it.

7:00am 0km
Lok: senn, how do you walk in these tights? like wearing a sanitary pad!
Senn: you'll get use to it.. btw, howchu know what a sanitary pad feels like?
Lok: i've seen you walk
Senn: sharrup! you wearing underwear?
Lok: ya-a.. it's disgusting without
Senn: you'll get chaffing
Lok: can we remove this jelly seat cover?
Senn: i think it'll help your cushioning
Lok: i'll risk it.

7.15am - race starts

7.30am 5km
Lok: my butt hurts... i think i need a thicker padding
Senn: did you pull it up snug? got to make sure you are seating on the padding.
Lok: sigh.. i'll just stretch...
7.35am still 5km
Lok: are we there yet?
Senn: nope. we need to ride to the end of this road.
Lok: my butt hurts

7.40am about 7km
Lok: you know, if my chain didn't drop earlier, i would be cycling in front with dad
Senn: u-huh.. guess that's why he's getting smaller and smaller now!
Lok: ya! sheesh.. are we there yet?
Senn: we've just cycled 7km.. almost there. drink water.
Lok: can't.
Senn: why?
Lok: might fall. dont they have those people in cycling that feeds you and stuff in a race?
Senn: yes, they are called domestiques.
Lok: ya senn.. feed me!
Senn: just stop and drink
(Lok tries to coast and drink)Lok: ta-daah! i did it.
Senn: good job, you're far better than most newbie girls i've ridden with!

7.50am 10km turnaround.
Met up with some saturday lumba haram-ers at the dead end

8.00am push back home

8.10am about 13km
Lok: my butt hurts
Senn: ya.. just now arrogant, right?
Lok: ya man.. "don't like cycling shorts, take out jelly seat"
Senn: now suffer, right?
Lok: ya..
Senn: now whine like girl, right?
Lok: ya...
Senn: now wished you had that jelly seat, right?
Lok: ya..
Senn: last week dad said you can have his strawberry seat, whatchu say? "don't want, too big, ugly" now you wish you had it, right?
Lok: no.. now need bigger.. a sofa!

8.45am Alamanda Hill
Senn: Lok, big kahua hill. be steady and just go at your pace
Lok: ya, ok got it.
Senn: don't push ya? after leg cramp
Lok: My butt hurts.. legs ok
Senn: ok.. then you should be ok.

Senn at peak, slightly after the crest, waiting in the shade
Dad cycles towards Senn
Senn: Lok?
Dad: Think he's suffering

8:50am Alamanda Hill
Dad walks to peak
Senn: Is he walking?
Dad: dunno, cannot see him

8:55am Alamanda Hill
Dad: think the poor fellow's walking

9:00am Alamanda Hill
Dad walks to peak again
Senn: walking?
Dad: haha.. yea.. poor fellow. walking

9.05am Alamanda Hill
Dad: ok, can see his helmet
Senn: good job, Lok!
Lok: Wheeze wheeze
Dad: don't worry. i walked up the first time i did Alamanda too. It's tradition
Senn: i didn't..
Lok: you're weird.

9.20am race finish..

9.40am
Senn: So Lok, wanna buy your own bike?
Lok: howabout i take your cow bike
Senn: Can, but you must use the pink saddle and pink bartapes
Lok: how girly! maybe i respray it yellow with black spots... like leopard
Senn: lucky you didn't say cheetah.
Lok: why?
Senn: at you're speed, it's either your cheetah is pregnant or you'll just embarass your bike.

***
THANK YOU:Nurina - for your perfect bike.
Mac & Arif - taking turns marshalling and sweeping

***
The race was two weekends ago.

Today, I will be going to check out a second hand bike for Lok.

He has decided that it would be best to let an experienced rider help him out with his new hobby :)

Heroes are just people blessed with more guardian angels than most

2009-03-06T07:35:00.000-08:00

5 days and 20 hours after crossing the finishing line at Langkawi, I am finally home and able to write about my epic adventure.

4 days after crossing the finishing line at Langkawi, I was told that I was a hero and an inspiration to my friends in this small multi-sport circle. I was so touched I wept.

3 days after crossing the finishing line at Langkawi, I found myself on a cold hospital bed, right leg elevated above my head, sharing a ward with four others in the maternity wing wondering how the hell I landed up in this mess.

Well, I know exactly how I landed in this mess. And I also know that I would be in a bigger mess without my guardian angels:

Exactly one week ago, I was in Langkawi with Arif, Mac, Adeline and many other IM hopefuls and our fantastic supporters.

The Friday had not gone smooth at all.

My parents arrived in the morning to find out that the hotel does not have their reservation. I had to fight with the reception lady as I have made reservations last year and checked just the week before whether they had my reservations. Suddenly, my reservation record was ‘missing’.

After sorting my parents’ accommodation, we headed for bike check in.

At bike check in, I asked the bike boutique mechanic to check my gearing. The mechanic could not fix the jumping gear (the chain would drop whenever I back peddled on my big ring). He finally just said I had no choice but to ride the bike with “chain drops”. He said it was normal and there was nothing he could do about it (!). I only had 7 working gears.

I was so stressed out and dumbstruck I just sat in the jetty mall by myself wondering how I was going to race the next day. I am grateful for my first guardian angel, arif, who came to my rescue and took over the situation. He managed to pull Daniel away from the bike check-in line to take a look at my bike.

I was told that I had a missing washer from my cog and a couple of my back spokes were frayed and dangerous to ride with. After fiddling with the cog for about an hour, we decided it was much safer to switch my wheels with Mac’s. Thank god my guardian angel #2 had decided to come in full support mode.. he helped me get to the starting line.

Switching the wheels didn’t work as the gear still wouldn’t stick. That’s when Daniel said my bike’s geometry is such that it pushes my crank outwards. So, he removed my crank and started filing it to make it more aligned.

We left at 7pm after spending 3 hours at the bike transition area, just getting my bike to work. Not a good psyche to have the eve of raceday.

I also lost my pretty little pink camera that Friday. Not sure where it went but it really added onto the unnecessary stress I was already feeling with my bike.

The morning of raceday I was still feeling the stress from the day before. Heavy doubts of not making it that day weighed my spirits down.

So dark were my feelings that I excused myself, walked towards the dark parking lots and for the first time, I smoked before a race! I felt alone and was certain my day was a failure.

That’s when I cried.

Out of desperation, I prayed.

I prayed to god to keep me safe.

I prayed to the spirits of Langkawi to be kind. I told them I have been humbled by the challenges they have given me the day before and I was sorry if I have offended them with my loud behaviour, days leading to Saturday.

I prayed to mah-mah, my parental grandma who passed away exactly 1 year that Saturday. I told her I missed her and asked her to take care of me through the entire race.

I then laughed and said “while you’re at it, I’ll appreciate it if you’ll make me a little faster too!”

Feeling better, I rejoined my friends and met my mom at the transition entrance. She said “everything is going to be ok”

That didn’t last long.

Less than 15 mins into the swim (prolly about 500m at my speed) I was pushed by the mass swimmers towards a buoy. I did a breaststroke kick to reposition myself and kicked something sharp underneath.

I felt a warm sensation on my right foot and did a turtle flip to check what was going on. I remember saying “crap, my bad day isn’t over. The prayers were done too early in the morning for anyone to hear it!”

I had a deep gash, about an inch wide. My skin flapped open like a fish gill. Blood was oozing like a red ribbon in the water.

The salt water made the wound numb and I decided to swim a little quicker to get medic help on land.

Medic help on land might as well be medic help on Mars!

The medics were so dumbstruck by the urgency of my voice they just looked at me and my wound repeatedly. My wound was not washed. They only managed to slap gauze on it and taped it in place.

My race would be over had it not been for the other guardian angels I met along the way:

Faaisal for my 1st painkiller on the bike. It lasted me the whole 180k.

The le tuangers for the endless cheers up and down the bike loop. Knowing they were taking pictures distracted me from pain for awhile and I looked forward to bumping into them or passing the “GO! Le Tuang” message at bkt malut.

Getting off the bike and putting real pressure on my foot for the first time felt like a white electric strike up my foot. But the run leg was where angels just kept popping out left and right!!

“Comfort angel” Arif for walking with me for almost a loop.

“Unexpected angel” Bernard for my 2nd painkiller.

“Super guardian angel” Mac for meeting me at the run turnaround to pass me more painkillers. And “IM08 returning angel” Patrick for ensuring Mac got my message of wanting painkillers. (not sure when, but I took another 3 in total to survive the run.)

“Unsung but definitely important angel” Adeline kept me going on the run. Trying to keep up with her was a real challenge! Her comfort and company throughout the trip made me wish I had a sister.

Even “sluggish angel” Ishsal’s determination made me think twice for slowing down!

And the endless stream of ‘supportive, spirit uplifting angels” of le tuang and imcyclist.com for cheering me on and telling me I’m doing fine although I’m sure I got them pretty worried. Shazly, Kharis, Luvis, Azly, Mervyn, Jim, Jason, Din, Willie, Tip, Azura, Aileen, Aini, Zabrina, Lin, Alisa, and many more.. I owe you my medal.

Now it’s been 6 days since crossing the auspicious line. While many of my angels have retired after a good day’s work, one angel is still on duty.

To me he has since been promoted from “comfort angel” to “grand supreme angel”. For his patience, his endless care and support. From helping me stay focus through adversities the night before race, to taking me to hospital, to ‘hero-ising’ my IM attempt, to taking me home, to my coming two weeks of daily hospital visits for wound dressing. I am glad he volunteered to be the resident angel in my life.

Thank you Arif, I am only a hero because of you.

Race kit, waste kit

2009-01-02T02:57:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder whether anybody actually took the time to think about what should really go into a race kit?

after 3 years of racing, i finally received a race kit with sense. well, it wasn’t an actual race kit, more like a goodie bag from the penang fellowship ride organised by the KOTRT boys. in it were the rider number, a t-shirt, a water bottle and a backlight (!). when i saw it i thought “wow.. now this is a race kit not a waste kit”

definition:
race kit: the oh-so-crucial kit to be collected before race day. contains your race number, briefing/route booklet, race itinerary and sponsor goodies like powerbars/gels, visor cap and anything else that is race related.

waste kit: still the oh-so-crucial kit to be collected before race day and technically contains the same must have race items above but with different sponsor goodies.

naturally, the sponsor goodies that make a race kit are things like, powerbars/gels, backlight, water bottle, hydration salts/pills, sun block, even the t-shirt i got at that penang ride. sure, one does not wear a t-shirt during a ride, and i didn’t wear it either. BUT for other newbies, this t-shirt was very useful – it came with the ride route printed behind.

nonetheless, there are some sponsor goodies that made a race kit, a waste kit. here are some of the prominent ones i’ve received:
1. maps to local attractions and festivity dates
i understand the need to promote tourism, but seriously most of us only make it an annual pilgrimage to that one race weekend and none of the touristy dates fall on race weekend. even if it did, would i, after having traveled so far, trained so hard, paid so much, say “hey.. i know race is tomorrow, but erm, let’s cancel it to go see the annual international pottery competition!”? nuh-ah.. i don’t THINK so.

2. visit malaysia pins
right. so… what exactly are we suppose to do with these pins? we can’t pin our race numbers because they only provide one. and they’re not really secure.. so might poke us as we tuck into aero positioning. plus, it’s heavy.

3. plastic clappers
honestly, i love these clappers. they’re so cute and i won’t hurt myself if i wanted to clap for long periods of time. keyword here being “IF”, and IF i did.. how would i be able to do that when i’m racing? did they think i was so lonely that the only show of support i’ll get is by cheering and clapping my own self while racing?
maybe that’s why it’s a single hand held clapper.
maybe it’s suppose to be for the benchside barbie/ken that tagged along over the weekend (then give it to them directly.. don’t stuff my race kit and confuse me!)

4. handheld plastic fans
again, love the item, love the concept (i geddit.. it gets hot at races) but useless to me while i race. perhaps one day when i’ve mastered the art of fanning while on my aero tuck or while running.. won’t use it for the swim though, in case they mistake it for a front propelling device and disqualify me.. (eureka! get two handheld fans and train swimming with them on. far cheaper than pedals!)

5. shampoo & nescafe 3-in-1 sachet
ok-ok.. maybe this is pseudo waste kit material. because you can use it to clean up after race and have a nice hot coffee. received this at the recent 50km putrajaya walk, it was a 12-hour overnight race, starting at 8pm. at least they gave you the option of washing your hair mid-race and have a cup of coffee (bag even came with a ceramic mug!) at dawn just before crossing the finishing line!

6. toilet seat sanitiser spray
saving the best for last… the toilet seat sanitiser spray is formulated with anti-bacteria properties, and promises to kill up to 99% of the germs on a toilet seat. to use effectively, simply wipe the surface of the seat dry, spray it on and wait for 15secs. wipe dry after 15secs, use when necessary.

how naïve.

when, pray tell, has anybody found it necessary to sanitise the seat during a race? i can almost imagine chrissie wellington, winner of IM07, Kona going:
“o my! i need the loo..”
“euw! look at the state of that seat!”
“thank goodness i have my seat sanitiser” (brilliant smile facing audience)
“tut-du-du.. i’ll just spray it on and wait… 15 secs”
“wipe and go!”

the waiting is one thing.. have they even seen what the toilet seat looks like later in the race? it’s a biohazard!

tsk! tsk! tsk!

why can’t we get sponsor goodies that make sense to the racer? a spare tube, a co2 canister, quick lace-locks, anti-fog spray for goggles, deodorant, stuff like that.

did they really think i would train my swim with two handheld plastic fans, wear the visit malaysia pin proudly on my trisuit at IM, wash my hair at T1 coming in from the salty sea, race really hard into the night only resting for that 15secs here and there while my toilet seat gets sanitised and drinking coffee to keep me awake on the long run and not feel lonely when i cross the finishing line beyond cut off and everybody’s gone home because “hey! i have my own clapper! i’m my own cheerleader!”?

but sponsors are not all to blame. i’m sure they know how hard it can be.. they know what would make a good sponsor premium to us racers.

and after a hard day of racing, going through all that anxiety, pain, and emotional turmoil, perhaps they were right.

perhaps i should have known better, skipped the race and gone to that annual international pottery competition instead!

I finally came in first!

2008-11-09T19:26:00.000-08:00

Malakoff Duathalon, Lumut 9.11.2008

Yes.. i could not believe what i was hearing.

the guy was on his speaker “get ready, get ready, first runner coming in! first runner coming in!”

could it really be me? am i the first runner his referring to?

“431, 431.. girl.. girl” he said

431.. that’s my number! yes! that’s me.. that’s really me!

but hang on.. what’s that he’s saying?

“medic, medic, ready medic, first runner coming in!”

medic? must be something standard seeing that even i am surprised for being the first runner in.

i looked around trying to make sense of the whole situation. trying to catch logic but it keeps slipping my mind.

the scene passes quickly yet it seemed like forever that i was there. so much confusion, so much urgency in everybody’s voices.. i hear an ambulance in the distance but i can’t see it.

i see the finishing area, but just. i see the finishing arch but i am not heading towards it.

what’s happening.. am i not first runner in?

we suddenly stop.. it is calm again. i can hear my breathing. i hear somebody mumbling, i look around to trace the voice. three faces looked at me. and then I heard it..

“oh! dah tumbang lah tu!”

suddenly a loud crack of metal, like a bursting vault and a sliding door. a man, tall man, appears.. he comes above me and say “you’ll be alright” and he carries me.. out from a van and into a nearby ambulance.

he placed me onto a day bed in the ambulance and starts taking off my shoes. another man comes up. a flash in my left eye.. another in my right.. i blink. he asked me questions i can answer but only mentally. i somehow could not speak.

“are you asthmatic?” he asked, “no” i said inside.

“did you eat?” he asked, “i think so” i said inside.

“can you hear me?” he asked, he looked a bit worried so i said “penicillin”

don’t ask me why i said it, i’m sure a simple ‘yes’ would have been sufficient at that time, but it was the first word that came out of me.

“what?” he said, “i’m allergic to penicillin” i replied.

finally, he laughed “don’t worry, we’re not going to give you penicillin, you’re probably exhausted, or had a sudden low blood pressure. lie here, we’ll check your oxygen levels in your blood. you’ll be fine soon..”

there you have it. my first victory.. my first “faster than everyone else”. of course we’re talking about under the circumstances of being the first to require emergency medic help and an instant pull out from the race.. but the fact remains, that after 3 years of racing, i finally came in first!

and like most first timers, i’ll like to share with you the events that lead to my ‘victory’.

the day started pretty normal. woke up at 6am, cycled to start point at 6.45am, reach transition at 7am. race starts at 7.30am.

at transition, i realised i left my riding shoes in the hotel. panicked a little but made a quick counsel and decision to ride back to get them.

rode back to hotel, grabbed shoes and headed back to transition. i reached transition at 7.20am.

flung my bike on the rack, arranged my shoes, placed my helmet, ransacked my transition bag for my number and my breakfast bar, reset my bike computer, grabbed my sunnies, grabbed my sunblock, got chased out of transition by marshal at 7.25am.

heard the lady say “5mins to start”, ran to start line, found my buddies and asked for help slapping on sunblock while i tried to eat my breakfast. was told i could give my sunblock to another buddy supporter, ran to him about 80m away and ran back still trying to finish half a bar. before i could swallow, the race started.

so off we went. i was actually feeling quite good. somehow faster and lighter than normal. i said to myself “must have been that fast and furious warm up i had, i’m already sweating buckets!”

first water station, i rewarded my fast pace with a brisk walk pass the station. still feeling strong but perhaps pushed a bit too hard first part. so, i started running again but at a slower pace. but water from the station made me feel a bit queasy, especially since i had just swallowed my bar not too long ago.

i slowed down a little more, tiring to settle my stomach.

as I approached the second station, just before the 5k mark, i thought “ok, very queasy now.. starting to see a bit of spots and can feel the bar escaping me”

at that time, Rahim had just passed me at a good pace. feeling up to it i told myself “walk to station, after station, there’s a van, hide in front of the van and puke (didn’t want to disgust the other runners so early in the morning!), then catch up with Rahim”.

i looked at my timing “not bad.. this could be one of my faster 5k!”

so I wobbled, controlling my restless bar, drank some water, and headed for the front of the van, away from everybody.

i bent over to let it rip, resting my hands on my knees, when the grass suddenly looked grey and my head very light. a thought came to mind “wonder what would happen if i just rested my head on the ground?”. i looked to my left and the van had a fender bar. i thought it would be a good idea to reach for it and held it for balance while i puked instead.

i reached for the fender bar but i’m still not sure if i touched it because next thing i know, my eyes won’t open and i hear people speaking in a rush.

i open my eyes to see the sky, i was on my back and a girl was speaking to me in mandarin. not sure what she was saying so i just stared. nothing seemed to register and nothing seemed to be moving.

i was confused and rolled to my side to push myself up. nothing happened. instead, for the strangest reason, my eyes were fixated on an ant sniffing a blade of grass. i don’t know why i was so attracted to the ant and i don’t know why i was looking at it and not getting up instead. i just looked at it with a blank mind.

finally, i hear English “ok, this one cannot wait already” and whoosh! a man scooped me up from the ground and carried me into the van. i felt like jello!

even as i lay in that van, and later in the ambulance, i couldn’t believe what happened. did i really pass out? i was just trying to throw up, and i always felt better after throwing up. why did i plop down and close my eyes? the race had only started! why would i do such a thing.. now my race is over!

much later, as i sat at the back of the imcyclist van i thought of what i’ve done while watching people coming in from their bike leg. a huge sense of guilt, and regret came over me. i felt that what happened in the morning could have been avoided. i should not have thought about resting my head on the ground, i wouldn’t have passed out.

i felt sad, angry at myself and defeated. so, i called that number we all have. that number that we always called when we wanted to feel less lonely and more loved. when we wanted to tell ourselves "it's ok" but needed to hear it from someone else just to be sure.

i rang his mobile but no answer. “maybe he’s home” so i called there.

as he said “hello”, i’m suddenly 6 years old again. with a lump in my throat, i tried to sound normal and said “hi dad, can I speak to mom?”

he replied equally cool “ya, ok. hang on”. but you could hear him rush, calling out for my mom, great urgency in his voice. and then you can hear mom, rushing to the phone.

“why senn? what happened? did you fall, are you hurt? don’t cry.. just tell me what happened”

like a 6 year old who climbed a tree, fell and now can’t play with all her friends, i told my mom what happened between sobs. all just to hear her say those magical words - it’s ok, just enjoy the rest of the trip with your friends and try again next year.

and honestly, i really did after that. i passed my camera to willie to take pictures, i watched and cheered my friends, i gave my water to a runner in need. by the time most of them finished, i’ve resigned to the fact that shit happens and i’ll just have to try again next year.

i had a good balance of concerned friends, well wishers and friendly slander.

here are some of my favourite slander moments, all shared in good faith and loads of adoration:

senn: they didn’t have water in the ambulance, so I drank saline! yuck!

ishsal: maybe it was so early, they didn’t even have time to prep that ambulance and you came in!

mac: where did you pass out?

senn: at the second water station, before the 5k mark

mac: so technically is that worst than dnf? because you didn’t even pass the first timing mat, your timing would say dns!

senn: haha! you’re right.. man, what a waste of a good race

mac: what a waste of a timing chip!

alwin: what happened la?

senn: passed out even before 5k man..

alwin: o! you just said “malas to race” and faked your pengsan, issit?

senn: the medical attendant asked me if this was my first race and i replied i’ve been racing for 3 years!

ishsal: you should have said, “i’ve done an ironman! TWO in fact”

senn: haha.. wonder what he’ll say then..

ishsal: mm.. “yea right, 5k pun tak habis.. nak buat Ironman!”?

ade: when did you pass out?

senn: it was before the 5k mark. i think even before 8am

ade: o! very early ya..

ishsal: well, you know how it is: if she ain’t going all the way, she might as well be the first to quit!

mac: we need petrol. the light’s been on for some time already

ade: don’t worry, next rest stop area is coming up

ishsal: ya, i see the signboard coming up

senn: ya mac, don’t worry. it’s so near, worst case scenario i’ll walk to the station. but i must warn you, if it’s further than 4k, i might pass out before reaching the station!

***

thank you:

* malakoff: for your team’s quick response to my emergency.

* mr mystery man in the van for acknowledging my urgent need of medical assistance, carrying my weak body and rushing me to the ambulance instead of waiting for it to arrive.

* ms mystery mandarin speaking red crescent volunteer for seating behind to make sure i didn’t fall of the seat of the van. by the way, you still have my rudy sunnies.

congrats to all winners and finishers. to all DNFs or DNSs, don’t worry, come back and i’ll finish the race with you next year!

Learning to tri from Bali..

2008-10-17T00:15:00.000-07:00

I read in someone's blog that everything you do in life can be a lesson to be learnt for races.

after coming back from a tiring weekend in bali, let's see if that's true:

1. this is me fooling around in the hotel pool:

of course, you'll wonder.. what's the lesson here? well, i thought about it too and found this other video:

what happened? i'll tell you what happened. i tried to do a new trick unprepared and something i'm not familiar with. water went up my nose and ruined the video.

so lesson 1, tying back to triathlons is.... never try anything new on race day!

always ensure you try everything (a friend of mine does not even try new socks on raceday) during training and not on race day itself. even if the item is old but has not been tested for the distance, don't risk it.

earlier this year i had hoped to wear my matching pink decente cycle shorts for langkawi. i had worn it for desaru 2007 and it worked out well with the long distance. but i figured "180k is double the distance".

so when the opportunity came up to cycle to lumut from center point, i took it.. and would you know it... 50k no problem, 70k nothing, 90k still in tact, 95k ouch! but not too bad, 100k what the...

i retired shortly after with really bad chaffing. strange isn't it? good but just not that good enough. good thing i found out before langkawi, it saved my race (of course along with the pills mom gave for the tummy ache)

2. this is me checking out my swim strokes

i'm sure some of you 'quick-eyed' ones will say "is that her bikini coming off?" (haha... made you watch the video again, didn't i?)

well, if you must know.. it was hanging.. semi off the right side.

so, lesson 2: wear proper attire.

seriously! and there's no hard and fast rule to what is proper. you will still need to test it.. and not on raceday. i once wore a new tri top bought day before the race. i figured, it's a tri top, must be appropriate.

nope! it was too loose and i had loads of air pockets in the swim. very uncomfortable. so make sure you wear and test your attire before a race.

o yes! and feel free to give constructive feedback on how to improve my swim strokes

3. Tough women (note the lady with two dive tanks on her head!)

i dived for the first time in my life over the weekend. it was a good experience and while waiting for my lunch to settle, i saw these women carrying dive equipment back to the car. one lady in particular had two dive tanks on her head! i was thinking.. lordy me! i can't even carry one on my shoulder! (the dive instructor actually had to help me put it on in the water)

so how does she do it and what's the link to races?

lesson 3: it's not the equipment. it's the skill.

how many of us have heard or are guilty of blaming our lack of speed, endurance, strenght on our race equipments? c'mon.. honestly..

i think we all have. one point or another it's either bike too heavy, shoes to stiff, swimgear chaffing.. etc. as a result, we spend more and more money upgrading our gear in hope that along with it comes an 'upgraded' performance. newsflash: it's not the medium, it's the engine..

i do, however, have friends who do not seem to matter what equipment they have. in fact, some ride and run in the most basic of levels and are super fast.

ironman randy is one of them. of course at races he whips out his super duper tri bike. but at training, his bike is heavier than mine! and yet, he flies.

ngae is another star to learn from. while perhaps running barefoot is not for most of us, it is a clear example that your equipment does not define your preformance. i remember i once saw him at the start line with tapes around his toes and selected areas of his foot. it was one of the first times i've spoken to him. being ignorant i thought he had blisters. i asked him "did you hurt yourself?" he replied with his charming self "no la. i woke up early today.. so i dress up a bit more la.. normally it's totally bare". i think i'm still dumbstuck by his ability and talent till today.

then of course there are those whose equipment outshine their performance (i'm slowing trying to balance mine out). here we have proud owners of the latest trends.

admirable as well, as they are proud of who they are and what they have chosen to be.. or ride..

but seriously.. it's not the bike or the shoe or whatever gizmo you have that's weighing you down.. :)

unfortunately, my trip went by in a daze and i didn't take anymore 'interesting' videos. will do so again on my next trip.

"You don't have to be great to do something...

2008-09-05T00:04:00.000-07:00

...you have to do something to be great!"
- wise words from my long lost tri buddy, peter.

i thought about this for awhile and really think it makes a lot of sense. the statement came about when he was telling how he met a couple of tri friends over the weekend who know me and thought i was gutsy. our chat went something like this:

peter: people admire ur guts!
senn: u know wat dat means right?
senn: means i'm so slow if they were me, they wudn't bother! hahaha
peter: you don't hv to be great to do something... you have to do something to be great

knowing me, i had to be philosophical about everything, so i took a trip down memory lane to last month's desaru long distance triathlon. it was a good race that i did relay with arif. the next day was the sprint event.

it was bloody hot!

as we sat under the tent after the finishing line, waiting for our friends, i saw nurina cross the line. i sat next to her and congratulated her on another great race. i asked her how it was and she replied she did very well. and the fact that she ran the whole distance, she was very proud of herself. she said "i know it's only 3km, but the fact that i ran all the way, i did exceptionally well" (it's been a few weeks now since desaru, but congrats again nurina. keep it up! you did something, and you became great!)

then there's patsy.

gusty patsy, who ran her own race. who wasn't bothered by whatever time it took her to finish desaru.. or any other race. she was alone out there but she went on and on and on till she completed.

again, congrats patsy... you did something, and became great.

and this 'being great' phenomena doesn't just happen in races!

last saturday after a nice ramadhan ride, upiq humoured us with his stories of school. light hearted and strong willed, you would never have guessed how quickly he has improved his physical health.

upiq is fantastic. i met him on a ramadhan run up genting last year. he started about half an hour before the main pack but we caught up with him on the downhill heading towards goh tong jaya. and he looked tortured.

last saturday he reminded me of that genting run where he really did feel like quiting. but with a little bit of encouragement and (a lot) white lies about goh tong being just a stone throw away... downhill... he decided to continue.

since then, upiq has completed triathlons, rides mostly with the front group, is always a burst of energy to watch and looking forward to our 1st anniversary via a night run up genting.

congrats upiq. i know you haven't achieved everything yet and is still just beginning. but see how doing something 'small' has made you great?

same ride last saturday, i brought dad along. dad has been riding his 'oh-so-not-euro-cool' mountie for about 6 months now. every morning he rides around putrajaya. just 10k at an avg of 17kmh. he was proud as a bean (huh?) at what he has been doing.

he treated my invitation to saturday's ride as if it were an ironman race. the amount of prep he did!
1. get bigger water bottle
2. ask nutrition advise
3. seek advice on what attire to wear (imcyclist.com t-shirt was decided because he felt it showed team support!)
4. fix night light
5. fix helmet straps
6. check time... every 15 mins from 8pm till 9.30pm, counting down to when we had to leave for start point.

... all this for a 30km ramadhan night ride with lethargic riders.

i smiled inside because he was so anxious and cute yet it meant a whole lot to him. so i decided to play strict, he likes it when it feels like a challenge.

my dad was tortured physically but didn't complain.

he even had the gusto to ask me if i would take him on my rides to pd one day while climbing the last hill towards alamanda!
dad: do you think i can ride with you to pd?
senn: sure.. but at your speed, it might take forever (senn the tough nut cranking up the pressure)
dad: how far is it?
senn: 70km...
dad: ah! that's just 2.5 times longer than tonight
senn: ...one way...
dad: o.. maybe mom can drive and meet me at pd instead...
senn: maybe... (i said it matter of factly, but i was beaming with pride inside! as if he was my kid learning to ride for the first time!)

halfway through the alamanda hill, he looked so tortured i suggested he turned into our housing area instead of finishing at taman warisan... it was really on the way and we pass the junction en route to start point.

although tortured and out of breath, he managed a smile and a fist and said "must cross the finishing line senn!"

so, cross the finishing line he did. last one back, half the crowd gone but happy and proud. he also rode back from start point that night so technically he rode more than everyone else that night!

good job kol(b) lai. you weren't great at cycling, but you did something, and you were great!

if you look around you'll probably find a lot more people who aren't great at something, but did something and became great.

and if you haven't yourself, why not do something today? you might end up being great...

Birds of a feather, flock together

2008-07-21T23:43:00.000-07:00

What about the other birds then?

I was speaking to my colleague the other day (well, gossiping more like) about the petrol price increase and what our management was going to do about it. We were generally upset that the higher management is refusing to increase the mileage claim amount in relation to the hike percentage. He's summary to the issue was simple "they won't budge to our needs because they are given petrol cards and hence not affected. and they are all of the same mind... you know... birds of a feather"

which made me wonder, i am not of the same feather, but i am of the same forest, why am i to be discriminated? surely i have an ecology contribution to the system.

over the month i pondered on his point "birds of a feather". i started noticing that this point applies to everything we do in life, including triathlons and weekend rides.

how many of us can honestly say we do not discriminate our friends in this circle? ok, perhaps discriminate is a bad word to use, let me rephrase the question: how many of us can honestly say we do not categorise our friends in this circle?

everyone does: the speed demons, the siput girls, the ever-sweeper etc.

nothing wrong there. and we love our friends regardless of the category we place them in.

however, discrimination i feel comes to play when friends are not in the same category as the 'main flock'.

of late, even the friendly cycling group pcc has lost its niche as your 'perfect cycling partner'. when i first started, pcc was fondly known as the 'le tour de fat farm'. famous for its easy routes, great rides and fantastic eating experience. every ride was centered around where was the best place to eat what. within pcc, we had the fast boys in front, the leisure riders in the middle and the newbies behind with the ever trusty sweeper.

to other clubs like p2k and bike pro, pcc were the underdogs and not to be taken seriously. while it is impressive how pcc has evolved in the past two years, it is sad to know it is no longer unique as it once was. it now breeds speed demons and strong mutants, all very similar to the birds over at p2k and bike pro.

of course it is not in my position to say whether pcc has evolved for the better or for the worse, but i do know that it is no longer the 'perfect cycling partner'. it shows less empathy for new riders or slow seasoned ones. it has also developed a hint of arrogance of how far it has evolved into.

all well justified i'm sure because it is the hard work of the leaders and the frequent flyers of pcc to be faster, better, stronger. we are also no longer the fat farm, which i'm sure is great news to many who see the term as an insult.

but really to me, pcc was the 'perfect cycling partner' because it housed a forestry of birds: big ones, small ones, sleek ones, colourful ones, nutty ones and they all sang a different tune: chirpy and sharp, low and sexy, even god awful screeching. you would imagine with such unorganised tunes, it would be chaotic but no... any new bird, young or experienced that flew into the pcc forest would find a circle of same feathered friends that they can sing together.

it was harmonious. it was the heart of pcc.

today i am sadden that the birds sing the same song as other clubs. it sings of speed, and distance and how only great birds do great things. it sings of competition and without intend, alienates the minority birds. these are not necessarily new birds, just birds that do not sing the same tune. it is as if the main flock birds have grown in such numbers that other birds either have to sing the same way, or move out of the forest.

step back before i continue: i'm not imposing the main flock birds are snobs, merely the fact that minority birds are constantly pressured to be accepted by singing to the main flock tune.

it's really not the main flock's fault. it's the weakness of the minority bird.

let me explain: i am a minority bird.

while i think i am well liked by all birds in the forest, at heart, i am a minority bird. minority in the sense that i'm relatively a seasoned rider but never considered myself a speed demon. never been classified as one either. just occasional spats of speed. other than that, i'm pretty much on my own.

even in triathlons, i am a minority bird. i'm not exactly new.. but i'm not exactly a top 10 finisher either.

i have to admit i have been upset about main flock birds asking me to join them on the higher branches of the forest. upset because i feel pressured to feel belong.

then i realise i play a very important role in the forest's ecosystem.

if you think you are a minority bird like me, here are two main things to think about and hopeful you too will not be pressured into joining the main flock birds:
1. if everybody is as fast, how do we have greatness?
think about this. if we are all main flock birds, able to deliver the same amount of energy and distance, how are we going to brag or admire anybody? we'll all be the same. at triathlons, we will all finish the same and the podium will overflow with people taking turns to receive their gold medal. in fact, we will all be 'normal'. nobody will shine. and since nobody will be last and have a great story of determination to tell, we will lose inspiration and soul too.

2. if everybody was a main flock bird, where's the melody?
an orchestra is never built on a single musical instrument. it needs a range of different sounds and rhythm to make something magical and memorable. a piano solo may sound impressive, but the whole orchestra is what makes it great.

so back to my point about my contribution to this ecosystem as a minority bird.

if i was as great as the main flock, i will not be inspired to write this blog which in turn has inspired many.

if i was as great as the main flock, i will not be able to speak and share experiences that newbies can relate to. hence, they will think you must be great in order to join a triathlon. on hindsight, they may be less competitors! but that's not the point here...

if i was as great as the main flock, i would not have understood what many other minority birds feel and therefore lose out on a lot of soul.

my contribution to the ecosystem is to provide an avenue for slower season riders or newbies to build the courage and inspiration to challange no one else but themselves.

my contribution to the ecosystem is to provide support and encouragement to other minority birds by saying "hey, you know what, forget what the other birds are singing. what do you feel like singing?"

and i know there are some key minority birds out there.

like nabil when he was actively riding in pcc. he was the ever protective and steady sailboat. very reliable and definitely sang his own song. although he was normally the sweeper, he never lost out on respect from other riders. in fact i think we respected him most because he always ensured nobody was left behind and everybody was safe. a very responsible role and no 'flimsy' main flock bird can handle.

so if you are indeed a minority bird like me. do not be ashamed and do not be upset and succum to peer pressure as i once have.

you should realise that your contribution to the ecosystem is very important. do a self check, ask yourself "if i am not a main flock bird, what is my contribution to the ecosystem?". don't be afraid to ask friends close to you as you will be surprised how much you actually mean to the forest without changing the type of bird you are..

i mean, if every bird in the forest sang the same song in the same tune... it would be a very plain and boring forest, wouldn't it?

Ode to my string of pearls (and Kenyir tri race report!)

2008-07-09T19:26:00.000-07:00

It has been 3 years since i heard this story but i never fully understood what it meant until the kenyir race last weekend..

3 years ago, as i embarked on to the world of triathlons - heart broken, frumpy looking and thrown into a whole new working industry - a good friend of mine said "forget what you have lost. look forward to what you will receive". i didn't believe her and in her sweet quest to help me recover she emailed me a chain letter about a father-daughter and a string of pearls.

i'm quite sure many of you would have received this chain letter one time or the other, but just in case you haven't, let me tell you the story (it was honestly long and boring, so i'll give you the more touching version.. but long still)

on her 5th birthday, her father gave her a pretty pearl necklace he had bought at toys r' us. she loved dressing up and she was his princess so he wanted to make sure she knew that. naturally, over time the pearl necklace chipped and the colour coating peeled.

couple of years later, her father said
"let's give away your necklace, it's old and the colour is faded"
"NO! this is my favourite pearl necklace. it is pretty still" she replied
"my darling, you must learn to let go. it will be alright" her father said lovingly.
and this conversation went on for weeks. each night, her father said "give away" and each night she replied "no".

finally two days before her 7th birthday she said:
"ok daddy, because i love you, i trust you that everything will be alright. but i want you to know my heart is breaking as i give this pearl necklace away"

her father smiled and hugged her.

on the eve of her birthday, her father came to her bedside and found her crying
father: "don't cry my darling. tomorrow is your birthday"
daughter: "daddy, it hurts. i don't want it to be my birthday"
father: "i know it does. but i wanted you to learn that letting go of something precious to you doesn't mean you will never be happy again"
daughter: "what do you mean?"

her father then took out a velvet box and in it is was a real string of pearls.

"i wanted you to let go of the past so that i can give you something more precious and beautiful for the future.. happy birthday darling.."

many friends said "ah! so materialistic! the old pearls may have been in bad shape but it was sentimental". true, but i'm sure there's a chain letter somewhere to cover that issue.

but!

the moral of the story here is never be afraid to let go of something you feel is precious to you as there is always something more precious to discover.

so how does this relate to my enlightenment over the weekend?

well, for 3 years now i have been blessed with a loving partner which i initially thought was my 'real string of pearls' but i was never completely convinced. replacing a lover with another cannot really justify the empty spot left by the previous lover. not because he is insufficient, but because each lover is different so they fill up different areas of the void.

then after almost 5 months since february of not meeting my triathlon friends i realised something: my string of pearls is not represented by one person... it is literally a string of pearls! many many representatives... each one a pearl in my string:
from sweet alisa who is on a constant high and full of love, to her equally energetic father who braved IM 2008 after swimming 2k for the first time 10 days before race day.

from funny mj kalam, to his loving nurina whose heart of gold and determination to complete tris is a true admiration, to his kopi susu family tagging along everywhere like little ducklings.

from the elites of steph, dino, and kim who have achieved far beyond my personal ability yet remain humble and close.

from shen who introduced me to this triathlon world to her devoted KC and now tiny peanut who's almost 1 month old!

from edwin and his endless support and dedication, to his gentle kelly and everybody from imcyclist.com

from willie with his funny ways of waiting for me at races, to shiraz and his "shut up! forget about the medal..just finish the race!

from patrick and his never ending evaluation of what is "necessary" and his growing up son now more interested in straddling the bench press to bulk up than straddling his bike.

from the fast and furious boys of ironmonyet to the new boys in town from bike boutique.

from my evergreen race bunny karen siah, to karoline yee and now michelle looi (all great gals that i target at races and all great gals that beat me flat at races!)

from carmen leong and her admirable win for a spot in kona 2008, to randy tan and his dedicated bench side barbie ivy.

from mac the ever trusty friend sweeping at the back, to adeline, to jaja, to vong, to pk and family and all the great guys/gals at pcc and their enjoyable sunday rides.

from yit thing coming slowly into this tri world to weina across the sea

the list goes on (if your name is not mentioned here, sorry... but don't worry, i still think you would be a pearl in my string too!)

but it doesn't stop there!

since letting go of the past i have been blessed with the company of arif's family and many other 'new' people in my life:
from little shafeeq and shaqeel who's laughter and snoring entertain me over weekend stays to their sweet nanny kye that helps around the house.

from sweet farah and cheeky daughter nana to her ever handy fahar and their great weekend parties/games night

from muscle mania and ever smiling feizal to his calming lynn where everything we do, give or buy is niiiiiiice.....

from the great guys at work like joanna, solomon, chua, leong, wan san, tang and many many others who make 8-5pm tolerable.

i could go on forever... but really what i would like to do is thank all of you for coming into my life and enriching it many folds over.

and to think, i would have missed all these had i not let go...

so a toast is "necessary"!

to all my friends mentioned and unmentioned, you enrich my life and each one of you is a true treasured pearl on my string.

i love you all and thank you for bringing colour to my life!

p.s: hope this post gives you the strength to let go of any past haunting you now as what the future brings is always far better.

p.p.s: i forgot about my kenyir race report! o well, here it is:
- did alright considering no training
- had fun
- finished with medal
- came home.
(figured you're all so well aware of my race capability there's no point dwelling in my imperfections!)

Tridating

2008-06-03T07:44:00.000-07:00

What is it like to date a triathlete?

(an interesting subject i found in my 'edit posts' marked draft with only the title and first line crafted. so since i haven't updated my blog for yonks, let's see if i can finish this topic today)

let's see...

i've been dating a triathlete for over two years now and while we have the usual ups and downs, the occasional slam-in-the-face and the point turner break-up-and-make-up, i would say there is a bond that is very hard to define if you are not a triathlete yourself.

just last night i had the following online chat with my bestfriend:
vanisha: how are things?
senn: ok
vanisha: so wat r you doin now?
senn: on facebook, playing scrabulous wid arif (yes! i'm finally on facebook!)
vanisha: how sweet, not seeing him 2night?
senn: i m
vanisha: huh?
senn: we're both online, seated opposite and we're playing scrabulous
vanisha: u guys r weird..

are we really?
and now to think about it, that's not the first time i've heard her say that. here are more examples:
vanisha: wat's up tis weekend?
senn: nothing, just ride
vanisha: wanna go dancing? arif welcome
senn: can't. sleep early. tomorrow 5am 150k ride
vanisha: u need to go on a date
senn: 2moro's ride IS a date
vanisha: u guys r weird..
OR
senn: dinner 2night?
vanisha: can't. work late. maybe sat?
senn: can't. away wid arif
vanisha: dirty weekend! hv fun!!
senn: er, not really. race at pd
vanisha: u guys r sooo weird...

after two years' worth of vanisha's "u guys r weird", i'm convinced we must be.

why else would we find solace in the late night, snuggling on the coach drooling over the latest durace crank online? or be contented trading a happening night out with friends with an early night and a gruesome broga ride the next morning?

which other type of couple can say "i had a good time" when the girl ends up in pain, dried tears on her cheeks and possibly bleeding from her elbows? why would any girl in the right frame of mind swoon at the sight of her equally smelly boyfriend paying more attention to her bike as she lays on the floor out of breathe fully clothed in tight lycra? (then again, which sane girl dates a guy in tight lycra??)

how is it that a guy will allow his girlfriend to seat in his car knowing that she is capable of, and possibly may have in the last 8 hours, 'pee-ed' in her shorts?

and how the hell is it considered a swim, bike or run 'date' in the first place, when the guy is faster and ahead while the girl spends most of her time at least 1km away panting and chatting with another guy?!

it's madness!

well, not entirely..

like all my postings, i will not claim that what i have or think is the best. all relationships have their special bonding. the saying "all we need is love", while true, should not have discounted the fact that a certain level of shared values or interest must be present, kinda like the permanent epoxy that glues the love together. some like quiet evenings, some like frequent dirty weekends, while others prefer starting a mini book club with just two members or underwater basket weaving.

ours just happened to involve alot of dirt, pain and bleeding (for my part anyway)

it's not perfect, we're hardly attractive looking or smelling during our time spent together, i can count the number of times i've actually dressed up and wore make-up on our dates, i can't count the number of times i've been given flowers because i don't think i have been getting any, can't remember what my last 'non-swim/bike/run' present was and i don't think i've bought one of those "special dress for that special outing" in a looooong time!

but hey! it's got its own charm (read as getting bling bike and bling hand- me-down bike parts!) and i wouldn't trade it for flowers and chocolates on valentine's day...

Triathlon 2020

2008-04-07T02:33:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder what triathlons will be like in the future?

i had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of it over the weekend at the first ever tri-kids, superbly organised by mejar kalam and gang. (thank you everybody for making it such a memorable race for the kids and parents alike)

the race was divided into 3 main age categories: group A 5-8, Group B 9-11, Group C 12-15

on the menu:
Group A 5-8: swim 50m, bike 500m, run 100m
Group B 9-11: swim 250m, bike 1.4km, run 800m
Group C 12-15: swim 350m, bike 4.2km, run 1.6km

while all the contestants, except for the kids in the oldest category, were about or below 4ft tall their courage surpassed their built and height. of course it helped that most of them had triathlete parents.

here were some highlights of the day:
1. azwar's Group A daughter came in a full pink gear complete with matching pink bike. the bike had a little box at the rear which i suspect is for keeping powergels. i also suspect that if i'm still in business in 2020, she'll be a hard contender to miss and i may not hold the title "ironman in pink" for very long.
2. ishsal's Group B daughter had just learned to pedal her bike the thursday before the event (in true style of her father's, who completed his first ever 2km swim 10 days before IM 2008)
3. abu's Group A daughter was one of the smaller and possibly the youngest participant. she wasn't last so by that virtue, i say she can kick some serious ass!
4. both arif's Group A sons finished 2nd and 3rd. the younger one come in ahead of his brother, 2 years his senior (not very true to their proud dad's style of finishing)
5. mejar kalam had a Group A son and two Group C sons. one of the Group C sons finished dead last but in true ironman style and spirit.

but the moments weren't always cheerful.

admittedly i am not a parent. but i do have my own and i would say to a certain extend, all parents are the same. they all want the same things:
1. a happy healthy child
2. a child that makes them proud
3. a child that achieves and excels in everything they do

of course the list is longer depending on the parent but the above three seems to be the most popular and while points 1 & 2 are relatively easy to define, and obtain (especially for my parents who thinks that me being a self earner and never been to jail has made them proud) point 3 is a little fuzzy.

point 3 is fuzzy because parents often cannot distinguish whether a child is excelling in something the child wants to do, or something the parent wants the child to do. and i see that in a lot of parents whether they are new ones around my age or old ones like my peers' parents.

a simple example: how many of us can say with confidence that our parents did not compare us to our cousins/friends/siblings when we were growing up?

the topic whether it's "why can't you study more, like your cousin?" or "why can't you behave and dress better, look at your best friend" or whatever, is irrelevant. the point here is, as a parent, do they say this because it's what the child wants to be or do they say this because they feel that's how their child should be?

again, i'm not a parent so i may actually be very ignorant in this topic. i apologise in advance before continuing what i think are my inner thoughts.

here's what i think.

i think all parents are competitive. the moment they have a child, the child automatically carries the weight of their parents' pressure to excel.

many disguise this pressure by saying "what's wrong with having hopes for my child?". some say "a child is like a canvas, you have to paint it and mold it and make the best of it". some insist "i do not want my child to live how i have. i've learnt my mistakes and why would i let my child feel the same pain when i know how to control or avoid it?". and the most popular one i've heard "my child can do it. he/she has the potential but he/she is just not wanting to push for it"

don't get me wrong as i thread on thin ice here. i believe each parent has the right to the above and any other statements of why they don't see how they children can't be successful. when i am a parent, i would probably have the same hopes and dreams.

but, however we justify it or put it into a philosophy, it all translates into one thing for the child: parental pressure.

and parental pressure was alive and well last weekend...

i saw one young girl and at least two of the older girls breaking down as they crossed the finishing line. and these older girls were not 'dead last' qualities. they were strong from start to finish.

the first girl who cried was in Group A. she had finished last. her sweet mom was there to comfort her and i overheard her telling her daughter to stop crying.

however, when i passed i asked why she was crying, the mother said "she's tired". now, that, i found strange. it's either the mother had no idea the mental stress of competing in a triathlon, whatever the distance, or she didn't want to say "the race got the better of my child". was she too competitive or did she feel that i was a stranger and deserved no intimate information of her daughter's condition. either way i gave the girl a big smile and said "hey, don't cry. you're a triathlete! i saw you and you were awesome!". the mother gave a big smile after that and said "yes! you were great out there!".

i think she's a great mom. one with hopes yet gentleness when the child feels defeated. one with enough privacy for her child, just in case others made the situation worst by comparing yet, to join in the encouragement to make her child feel better.

other parents were not as gracious.

the heat of the competition for the oldest group was very high... and the pressure from parents comparing their children, even higher.

i must admit i was very impress by what the older age group could do. their swim stokes were incredibly smooth, running into transition for the bike and blasting through the 1.6km run leg.

but my blood boiled as i hear parents adding pressure while their children raced. from shouting the number of laps left at the edge of the pool, to "pick up your bike quick", to "why did you stop your bike short of the transition? they've already said you could go nearer"

as we watched the older children run two loops around the field a particular set of mothers were bantering each other at the expense of their own children. comments like "she started the run first but look my son is catching up" and the other replies "we'll see, it's only their first lap". then later a sarcastic "see? see? my daughter's slowing down. there goes her race."

and it made me feel sorry for the boy who won the Group C race as his mother was more interested to know why he came back from the bike late than to congratulate him on his victory.

the leading girl crossed the line second with tears in her eyes. her mother immediately went to her side and although they were way out of ear shot, i have a good feeling the daughter's getting some sort of pressure talk about you did good but you could have been better.

and i know this because shen has similar parents. she used to tell me of how nothing is ever good enough for her father and how his comments always centered around the message "is that all you could do?" no matter what she achieved academically or athletically. it was only after 4 years in triathlon when she started bringing home prizes that her parents acknowledge that she's actually, in their own words "not bad at what you do".

i really felt for that girl that came in second and i actually felt a lump in my throat watching her look defeated although coming in second in her category. children her age should be enjoying themselves not feeling the weight of the world and definitely not that of her, to my personal opinion, under achieving mother.

perhaps i should bite my tongue as i wasn't there to hear everything her mother had to say. i hope i am wrong about the mother. i hope she gave comfort and encouragement. i hope the girl cried because of mental or physical pressures of the race and not of parental pressure.

honestly though, i think if my child was doing her first triathlon, i would hope for her to excel. but more importantly, i would want her to have fun. hope to excel, want to have fun.

i think arif shares my sentiments because we had this conversation after the race where i chaperoned his eldest son:
arif: did shafeeq come in last?
senn: er... not sure, i wasn't paying attention
arif: hmmmm
senn: actually, i don't think so
arif: you sure?
senn: i think so... why, does it matter if he did?
arif:... emm... i guess not

while i believe arif secretly hoped his two boys would excel, he ensured they had fun above victory. unofficially, and based on assumption and memory, we took a guess that shaqeel came in 3rd and shafeeq came in 5th. even with these placings arif showed his boys that he was ecstatic about them toughing it out and finishing so you can imagine how on-top-of-the-world he felt when the official placing was 2nd and 3rd!

and that, along with the 'privacy mother' is how it should be.

or perhaps this is exactly where future triathletes and tryathletes seed from. chances are if the parent applies constant pressure, a child will excel and become a successful triathlete (or it may back fire and the child shrugs the sport all together). chances are if the parent is a 'hippie' about the race results, the child may end up being a tryathlete (or then again, build enough confidence and love for the sport to excel in their own right)

whichever way the scale tips, i think it is safe to say:
parents,
have all the hopes and dreams you want for your children but let them lead the way without your pressures and do your victory dance in private when your child excels because the victory while shared, belongs solely to your children.

Race-ist!

2008-03-31T01:53:00.000-07:00

If an individual decides, for whatever reason, to do the shortest possible race distance, does that individual deserve to be treated any less special?

i think not. i think any person who chooses exercise over sleeping in on a sunday morning, should be given due merit for their efforts.

i realised as i signed up for the KLIM 10k that it would be my first 10k race. honest! i've done 10k during od tris, but never signed up for 10k as a stand alone race (i ran the mizuno 10k with mac last year but i gate crashed to keep him company, so that doesn't really count as a race participation)

my first ever run race was the GE30k last year. here are the 'first time' run race distances i've covered chronologically:
1. GE30k 2007
2. NB15k 2007
3. Addidas King of the Road 21k 2007
4. Penang Marathon 42k 2007
i notice my distances are very erratic as well!

so, seeing that this was my first official 10k race i was extremely excited.

**plus i have managed to convince my colleague, jo, to join in the fun with the promise that i'll run with her all the way, at whatever speed she can manage. as i had also volunteered to accompany mac throughout the race, the deal was whichever of the two were behind, i will hang back and support. they both kept up very well with each other and we finished 1:19 - 1:20!

heroes! good job guys.
(admittedly, this is also a PB timing for my 10k. my other 10k during tris have always been 1:30 onwards, so really i wasn't hanging back too much during the race)**

anyway, my first task was to sign jo and i up for the race and collect our race numbers.

arif helped out here, and i was disappointed that the 10k race kit did not even have proper receipt/registration coupons (they were photocopied coupon and numbers written individually!)let alone the rules and regulations booklet. our numbers were not determined upon online registration, rather allocated on the spot using mass produced cloth prints. Our kit paled in comparison to arif's 21k kit which had nicely printed registration coupons, full rules and regulations booklet and artcard race numbers that allow you to write emergency numbers and allergies at the back (don't we 10k-ers deserve to tell the organisers what we're allergic to?). also at registration, the 10k counter according to arif was a small little makeshift one at the corner.

i felt so discriminated! :(

my next task was to help jo buy a new pair of proper run shoes.

we went to the NB shop at 1-utama. feeling hyped up about jo doing her first 10k we "arrogantly" asked for the sales guy's assistance. this is how we were slapped on the face for asking:
senn: could you please recommend the type of shoes for long distance running?
salesguy: o! 42k?
(senn and jo exchanges sheepish looks)
senn: er... no. for now, 10k
salesguy: 42k is long distance. 10k is short distance
... piak! #1

he then showed us 5 shoes that were suitable. of course being women, when restricted, we automatically didn't like any of those he shortlisted for us.
senn: how about this? (pointing at another model out of shortlisted scope)
salesguy: nope. only these 5 for you
jo: how about this? (picking up a red one out of shortlisted scope)
salesguy: nope. only these..
jo: but i like this design better
salesguy: NB is not for fashion. we are not nike. it is for function. to run short distance, 10k (thanks for reminding us bro!) only these are suitable
... piak! #2

i then picked up this lovely pink(!) running-lightweight model.
senn: how about this, do you have my size?
salesguy: no, this is for serious runners! for your 10k (yeah - yeah, we know...) only these!
... piak! piak! piak! #3

more discrimination... :(

feeling disheartened, jo decides on one of the 5 while i said i'll think about mine. we went for dinner and returned after. by which time the salesguy had left and i just told the shop owner which model and size i wanted. (the running-lightweight model is incredible btw. for all you serious runners out there, you should try it!)

so, race number in, shoes ready... time for race day!

of course at race day, the 10k and 7k 'second class citizens' were placed in a different section from the 21 and 42k aristocrats. which was fine. it just makes it easier for the organisers anyway.

but!

10k runners do not get timing chips and as i later found out, 10k times are not even recorded! whatever time you clocked your watch is whatever time you finish.

the finishing was a total anti-climatic experience. we had to line up (about 20-30 people length to the finishing tape) to get our mass produced certs which we need to write our own names and medals in pre-inserted plastic covers. our earlier plans to have a final dash to the finish line were crushed! sure know how to make us special, don't they...

then of course there were the recovery tents and water stations only for 21k & 42k runners which no one else were allowed access to. i can understand the recovery tent being an exclusive thing seeing that 21k & 42k are quite gruesome distances and deserve priority.. but water stations?! after a brief runaround, a kind organiser showed us to a water dispensary tent some distance off the finishing line where we could quench our thirst.

full on discrimination! so much so that after seeing how i was treated, arif refused to remove his race number in case he loses his privileges as well!

admittedly though, despite feeling second class, the run on sunday was full of fun. seeing that i was quite bummed about being treated so casually, arif suggested i added some spice and wear a pair of white, feathery angel wings. i thought it was a great 'pick-me-up' and quite cool since i volunteered to be guardian to two runners.

the angel wings made quite a blast with other runners. here are some of the comments i received/overhead during the run:
1. are you in the right category?
2. do the wings give you an advantage?
3. why are you running when you can fly?
4. nice.....wings... (wtf? was that a pick up line?)
5. so, when are you taking off?
6. haiyo! angel girl pass ady... faster! (seems i'm a race bunny as well! perhaps next run with bunny ears?)

maybe the salesguy was right after all. which 'serious runner' would run with angel wings? perhaps the organisers were right too, to treat us so casually. it's only 10k, why would we need a full leg massage and foot dip?

but i just wish they'll understand that 10k runners are possible newbies with a serious intend to run longer distances in future.

just wish they'll realise that if a newbie is turned off by how they are treated they may not even join longer distance races.

just wish they'll see that we 10k 'underdogs' are the ones that need the highest level of encouragement and credit - we're like kids in the running world. you don't shrug a kid on his first bike ride do you? no, you don't. you praise them and encourage them to learn more.

Just wish they wouldn't be so race-ist!

This is not a race..

2008-03-23T21:08:00.000-07:00

…something I had to constantly tell myself while on our great trip to Mt Kinabalu last weekend.

Last weekend a group of 20, decided to pack their bags, leave their rat race and head to the land behind the winds to conquer South East Asia’s highest mountain: Mt Kinabalu (which originated from the Kandazandusun word “Aki Nabalu”, literally translated as Aki – ancestors, Nabalu – Mountain). They were: Bunny, Cass, Brandon, James bak, Christina, Jamie, Alex, Soh, Sallina, Alice, BK, Jesster, Annie Soh, Ivan, Annie Chee, Demi, William, Oneill, Arif and I.

The objective was fun in the sun, but Arif and I being the only triathletes in the group and the only ones that have been competing regularly found this very hard. It was extremely hard to suppress our competitive mindset and try to relax and enjoy to activities at leisure pace.

Here’s the funny part: neither of us wanted to admit to each other that we couldn’t help being secretly being competitive throughout the trip.

Here’s my share of secret competition:
Day 1: White water rafting
I slept most of the way there so I can’t really say I know where the location is or how our journey was, but I do know I occasionally woke up to see some extremely steep slopes which the group said would be interesting to see if we can pedal up on our bikes. And I do know we eventually ended up in a cold-water stream, which was extremely welcoming.

We were divided in groups of 5 per raft (arif and I together), and off we went. Our raft was the first out and I immediately intended it to remain pole position. Whenever the second raft came nearby I pedaled harder to break away.

I faced two problems breaking away:
1. Since I’m the only one in the raft that got the message to pedal harder, there isn’t much response in speed as the others were taking it easy.
2. It becomes even harder to move forward when I’m the only one pedaling while the others were resting (something that often happened after a row of rapids and the guide asks us to stop pedaling and relax to enjoy the scenery. Imagine a relaxed group and one hamster behind pedaling furiously just because her auto-competitive mindset kicked in when another raft approaches… hilariously stupid!)

Here’s another funny part: none of the other rafters and even those on my raft were racing!

Kept reminding myself “this is not a race”. Finally, the hamster got the message and I managed to relax but within seconds later, our raft hit the river wall and capsized. That was fun! Enjoyed the rest of the rafting after that, which was a pity because we capsized on our last 100m or so.

O well… perhaps Day 2 will be better

Day 2: Island hopping and hot springs/canopy walk
It was a nice hot day. Perfect for island hopping.

We marched to the jetty, got on a boat and off we went. The islands were serene with nice clear water (although the first island we went to had oily shores… euww). No competition here so I had a good time (and not much to write about either!)

After a couple of hours on the islands, we headed to Poring hot springs. Nice shady park where you can either dip yourself in healing sulfuric water or take a hike up to the canopy walk about 1km away. Seeing that we just had lunch, Arif and I decided to head towards the canopy walk instead of dipping in the hot springs.

Again, no competition here, just lots of trees and heights and swaying suspension bridges.

Day 2 a success!

Day 3: Climb up Laban Rata via Mesilau trail
We started the day nice and fresh. The air at Mesilau park was crisp and cool. All were joyful and excited…

Then we started trekking up.

Immediately, hamster power kicked in and I wanted to make my way to the front. It was difficult as the front pack was really full charged. Finally, one by one they stopped to rest and take pictures. Eventually, arif and I caught up with James, Jesster and Annie Chee who had stopped to take pictures. Passing them Arif said “ok, we’re in the lead now”. “How strange!” I thought, as I imagined I was the only one with the hamster power turned on. So we trekked and trekked ahead of the pack, happy and relaxed.

Few kilometers in, the trail started heading for a downhill.

Now, hamsters by nature have chubby bodies, short legs and a very small heart. Very much like me. Going downhill with such a built meant:
1) body too fat to respond quick to bends
2) legs too short to stretch for uneven downward stepping
3) heart too small to brave jumping down uneven trail.

As a result I got dropped. Very badly until nobody else was in sight. I trekked alone for a while till I saw arif just ahead, waiting for me.

The rest of the way was with arif. With no one else in sight the hamster power went on standby mode and I finally started to enjoy the scenery.

Then it started raining.

How horrid! We started getting drench and I asked arif to push off without waiting for me and we’ll meet at laban rata. Alone again, I started my slow trudge up the final 1.5km to laban rata. Slippery conditions made me lose my walking stick. It dropped and flowed downward with the rushing streams made by the rain.

Ok-ok.. that’s what I told the group and arif. Here’s what really happened:
1. I was trudging along till I realized that my cigarettes and handphone in my pouch could be getting wet
2. I stopped, placed my walking stick against a tree to check my pouch
3. My suspicions were right, they were getting wet
4. I relocated these items into my windbreaker pocket
5. I started walking again and slipped less than 2 steps away
6. Wondering how it happened, I realized that I left the walking stick leaning against the tree
7. I turned back and the stick was gone… :(

Shocked, soaked and probably suffering early stages of altitude sickness I stood there in the heavy rain puzzled over my missing stick. A porter was following me and I asked him “where’s my stick?”. He pointed downwards indicating it was gone. My eyes saw the action, my brain didn’t read it. I stood there, still in puzzlement. A guy passes and asked what I was doing. I looked at him and said “where’s my stick?”. “Gone down there” he pointed. Eyes and ears got the message, brain still blur. I asked again and this time he shouted in the rain “Gone! Your stick is gone! Move on!” Brain finally got the message.

I reached laban rata 30mins after arif did. Boy, was I glad to be there!

Well, not quite. I was quite the drama queen because:
1. soaking wet and freezing at 9.6oC
2. porter with my clothes hasn’t arrived
3. arif said my lips were blue
4. I had to remove my pants and sit wrapped in a towel to stay dry (didn’t help at all!)
5. after waiting more than an hour for the porter the stress and cold was too much, I started panicking, hyperventilating and crying, shocking everybody and ending up with 3 jackets, a pair of gloves, and a pair of socks. I looked like a Christmas tree with the mixed colours
6. more panic and tears when I found my clothes that the porter carried were wet! My water bottle cap popped off because of altitude pressure

One thing that did make me feel proud was that I was the 5th person to arrive laban rata. I know I know, this is not a race! And it’s even funnier that no one else even knew it was one, let alone wanted to race!

Day 4: Climbing to the peak and back down to Timpohon, Kinabalu Park
My tears dried up and clothes were returned to me dry from the makeshift laundry area they had at base camp. The night before, I slept with damp clothes and stuffed toilet roll to keep my skin away from the wet clothes. Even my toes were wrapped in toilet paper to simulate socks!

We started climbing at 3am to the peak. So many people lining up the winding steps! Hamster power was in full rage! “We’ll never catch the sunrise with all these mowers” it whined. Our porter skillfully guided us through slower climber and at last we were fast approaching the peak.

Well, not THAT fast…

The high altitude made it hard to breathe. I felt my heart rate going mad and I could even feel it in my ears! Every 3 steps forward, rest to lower the heart rate. It took us close to 3hours to cover the 2km walk to the peak.

At the peak, arif and I were relieved and rewarded by the most beautiful clouded sunrise ever. Colours of orange, blue and yellow filled the sky. Extremely romantic.

Having Soh propose and Sallina going “I want! I want!” made it even more memorable and sweet.

After awhile, we started our journey down to laban rata and eventually Timpohon park. By now it was close to noon and I had fallen 3 times enroute to laban rata. The first fall was so bad, the bruise recently won Most Ugliest Moment by James Bak.

Arif and I took 2.5hours to reach the junction of Mesilau (about 2km from laban rata). He was clearly upset. We had another 4km to go, we were last in the group and the restaurant at Timpohon closes at 5pm. Even more upset because he told the guide that we had planned to cover laban rata to Timpohon in 3 hours. To which the guide said “For you, no problem. But for your ah moi… very hard to say”.

“Babe, it’s now 2.30pm and we’re last. At this speed we’ll take another 4 hours to reach the park. I’m hungry and the restaurant closes at 5pm. We need to pick up speed..” he said in his ‘loving yet very firm and annoyed’ manner.

It helped that the terrain improved after that junction, we moved a lot faster. It also helped that arif started pointing out which route downward I needed to step. This cut my thinking time to zero because it was very visual to have him move ahead, turn around and point with his walking stick the rocks to land on. “Here, here, here” he would say as he pointed (but as his frustration of being lugged by a fat hamster grew, it later became silent pointing, no words. Very nazi-like)

I finally thought we could relax when we caught up with Jesster and Annie Soh and later BK and Alice and later still Christina, Soh and Sallina. But no, we marched on with full speed as if to see how far we could drop our friends. It was beginning to feel ironic that my mental chanting of “this is not a race, this is not a race” became a rhythm meter for me to move forward faster!

I later found out that Arif suffered the same mental torture and had tried to stay ahead of this particular couple (not from our group) that kept close distance to us on our last 2km! We both refused to slow down to let them past! And they seem to have the same thought because they speed up every time we did!

Finally reached Timpohon gates at about 4pm. 2.5 hours to cover first 2km, 2hours 15mins to cover last 4km. Hamster power!!

Day 5: Night at Shangri-la and home!
Ahhhh! The joys of a proper bed and hot shower at the Shangri-la..

I showered and washed everything twice. We had a great dinner and an even greater night’s sleep.

The next day, it was beach volleyball, bruise admiring, winning Ugliest Moment Award and heading to the airport at 2.30pm. What a great way to end the heavy weekend.

Or so we thought!

Arif and I took the 4.20pm flight while others like James and Christina, Annie Chee & Family, BK and Alice, Oneill etc took the 5.10pm flight on Air Asia.

4.20pm came and went and there was no sign of our plane. We finally took off at 5.10pm with two other Air Asia flights taxing behind us. “Wouldn’t it be funny if that was James’ plane?” Arif said as we took off.

True enough we landed at LCCT the same time they did although we were on an earlier flight. We exchanged pleasantries with them and went out to have a last cigarette before our long cab ride home.

While smoking, we saw the group appearing at the exit gate. I thought for a bit and told arif “you know, if we were in The Amazing Race Asia, we would have lost a positioning just by smoking here while the others hoped onto their cabs.”

Ah! But then again….. this is not a race.. :)

Footnote: I would like to thank everybody for the great time and warm clothes when I was feeling really tortured. You guys are great company and even greater traveling buddies. Special thanks to Bunny for organizing it and making all of us feel like we won something over the weekend. Great job guys! Let’s do Everest base camp next!

Bitter sweet victory

2008-02-27T01:55:00.000-08:00

Thank you mom, for bringing me lomotil pills in case i had the runs again on raceday, it saved my race.

thank you team imcyclist.com for the tough love and great company. thank you ivy, CK, jaja, lin, alisa, haimi and jason for smiling and making the heat more bearable. thank you adzim for the fab pictures. thank you team iron-monyets for your crazy ride distances during training. thank you all my sweet friends back home, who tracked my race progress till wee hours of the morning (sorry i got you worried on my last 6k) and those who gave me well wishes and good luck. thank you ishsal for saying 'i'm catching up with you!" on the bike. thank you shen for shouting "run, babe!" at kenyir OD 2006 (the memory never left and still haunts me at every run leg). thank you KC for bringing shen to langkawi. thank you patrick for your company on my last 500m and setting me off like an eagle last 50m towards the finisher's tape saying "go, enjoy your victory. you've earned it".

thank you dad, for catching me at the other end of the finisher's tape.

********************************************

i wanted to write about everything. i wanted to share the excitement, the joy, the happiness, the success of our trip to langkawi.

i wanted to share how my heart stopped and everything became like a dream. moving slowly with a blurred voice shouting "629.... YOU. ARE. AN. IRONMAAAAAAAAAN!".

i wanted to share everything.

people say no victory comes without pain. guess that's why they call it bitter sweet victory.

my heart is too heavy to share everything about my bitter sweet victory, so i'll sum it up in two lines:
sunday 12:33am - i crossed the finisher's tape after 16:48:03 of gruesome race conditions.
monday 2:35am - my mah-mah (paternal grandmother) passed away after more than 10 days of hospitalisation.

there is joy in me yet i mourn for mah-mah. is this really what they mean by bitter sweet victory?

how should one feel given such extreme milestone opposites in life? The person who can answer this question with confidence would truly be a master of his own heart.

in my previous entries i spoke about how mah-mah has totally forgotten who i am, yet she stroked my face in her last days in hospital as if to say "i know you, i love you" while she could. i also spoke about how i wouldn't want to inherit her memory lapse. later, i spoke about how my pee-with-audience debut at 5 years old could be my calling and i was meant to be an ironman after all.

i now know what i inherited and what i was meant to be.

the sunday before traveling to langkawi, i visited mah-mah. she was asleep and breathing with great difficulty. for the first time, i had her to myself. i spoke to her while she slept. i told her how i was about to travel to langkawi to do the ironman. i told her how it was a race of great importance to me and i have every intention to finish it. i told her i was scared. scared that i would fail to meet cut off again. scared that my family and friends had such high hopes and spirits for me that i would let them down. scared that so many of them, including mom and dad were coming, that the pressure to finish was almost unbearable.

above all, i was scared that she wouldn't be here when i come back.

our 'conversation' was interupted by her sudden wake. i said hi and she went back to sleep.

i spent a quiet moment in prayer with her and i walked out of the hdu to meet a cousin outside. while outside, the nurse advised us to re-enter the hdu and to call all relatives. mah-mah's breathing was getting weaker with no signs of recovery.

we rushed to her bedside and she was in and out of consciousness. as we waited for the rest of the relatives to come we called her to wake up and encouraged her to breathe more. we told her to hang on. we said others are on their way.

and then it happened.... she smiled... through her oxygen mask!

the next hour felt like an eternity. uncles, aunts, cousins took turns to say their goodbyes. an uncle was heading a christian prayer, he was asking her to not be afraid and walk towards the light, the lord had come to guide her way.

she did not die that sunday.

we waited another 2 hours and nothing happened. i later found out that my uncle had to say the same prayer on 3 different occassions, but she still hung on.

before i left that day i whispered into mah-mah's ears "wait for me. i will finish the race". she was asleep.

that was the last time i saw my mah-mah.

on sunday morning, after the race i couldn't wait to write this entry. i imagine a beaming face that cannot stop smiling while i typed. i imagined pausing to laugh at something stupid that happened during the race. today, my heart hurts and i only feel the lump in my throat and welling of my eyes.

she kept her end of the deal. she waited for me.
and i kept mine.

after receiving news of her death, my journey home have been so confusing. we travelled in a group and it wasn't fair to mourn in the presence of so many ironman successors. it wasn't fair to bring the group's spirit down after what they have worked so hard to achieve.

i received many smses of congrats for finishing the race, shortly followed by condolences of mah-mah's passing. it was such a strange feeling.

the imcyclist.com group knew of her death but were sensitive and played their part to ensure the atmosphere did not remind me too much of the pain.

in return, i put up a brave front and help keep the group's spirit high, saving my tears and heartache only in arif's company.

thank you arif, for cheering when you saw me fly and catching me when you saw me falling.
***********************************************

now thinking back, it was a week filled with silent pacs, the one with mah-mah being my most treasured.

at her wake, my uncle said mah-mah can be described in three words: loving, strong and determined. he told us the story of how mah-mah drove from kuantan to kuala lumpur to meet my grandfather. she was alone with 13 of her young children, and had no driver's licence. it's stories like these and how she refused to 'go to the light' even after being told more than 4 times (once by an official priest who gave her an hour, at most, after his prayer - mah-mah lasted more than 8 days after his prayer), and how she was probably waiting for me to finish that makes me believe my uncle was right.

and i now believe i did inherit something from her that i can truly be proud of - her strength and determination. i was wrong to say maybe i was meant to be an ironman. it was her inherant strength and determination that helped me cross the finsher's tape.

thank you mah-mah for making me an ironman.
*************************************************

ironMAN

2008-02-11T01:03:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder why some titles are just more gender skewed?

and it's not because ironWOMAN or ironLADY sounds strange..

i truly believe it's because some races are not meant for women or ladies!

now, before you throw cabbages at me, let me explain and set the record straight:
1. i am a supporter of ladies being included in all sports, especially male dominated ones.
2. there are ladies who beat men square at races
3. at a race, to a certain extent, both genders are equal
4. i will be truly honoured to be called an ironman

point 3 is what i would like to use to best illustrate why i believe races like the ironman is not meant for ladies.

gender equality.

does this really exist in races? well, let's see:
1. race timing? yes and possible
2. equipment? yes definitely
3. strength, skills and experience? yes quite possible although the average male is 20% stronger than the average female but sometimes, this is not a disadvantage to the ladies
4. training hours? yes, can be equal

you can probably think of a million more equalities, so what tips the scale and makes it ironman and not ironlady?

... the wilderness...

women and men react differently to the wilderness.

men on one hand (or the other, whichever one they choose) can pee/poo at any point in time and place. and sometimes it's not even during a race! you often see taxis at the side of the highway, both doors open, cabby standing in the middle, only thing in sight is a thin stream shooting out into the wilderness. I once dated a guy who was waiting for me while the whole household was out and he needed to pee. mom never really understood why her baby roses died overnight.

ladies on the other hand, think really hard and contemplate if they can hold it to avoid the wilderness. a doctor once told me, urinary tract problems are more common amongst women because of our natural habit of holding in our pee till a proper rest stop. he mentioned "especially for chinese women"... he must be referring to the large number of chinese women on tour buses across china longing for a proper toilet or one with a door!

it must be the way we are built differently. men do not have to be inches from the ground to pee hence saving them the worry that any creepy crawlies can nip them in the process. if anything, they probably had fun shooting the creepy crawlies at a distance.

we're pretty much the same when we poo in the wilderness, but this only happens when it's really bad. by which time, you're too consumed with the tummy churns to bother about creepy crawlies... mr crawlie better be on vacation before sh*t happens!... know what i mean?

but the wilderness is not the reason why we do not have ironlady titles or that the ironman is not meant for women.

the fact for me is, it's called the ironman because the race is 17hours (and some 40mins more for me). you've got to go sometime during that period and a proper loo is a luxury. so women and men just 'go' as they go. no qualms, no gender boundaries. ladies react like their male counterparts.

admit it. it isn't a very lady like thing to do.

during a race, women are not coy. we are just as strong as the guy next to us in spirit and courage. we no longer act very lady like either. we become athletes... not women and definitely not ladies.

we are strong, confident and honestly... can't give two hoots about who spotted our fannies in the rush of the race.

we dump our bikes, and hit the nearest bush clearing. helmets visible... nothing else. i've once shared a bush with a triathlete friend during my first OD at kenyir. sweet guy, threw me his water bottle to clean up after..

as I looked at pictures from that kenyir race, i thought "how ironic!". the day before i had taken a picture dressed in white, with slight make-up on.. smiling sweetly in front of a bunch of kept dears. some other shots had me feed them through the fence. and the very next day, i was sharing a bush with a guy and his water to wash... without even blushing or feeling awkward after.

what is even more ironic is the person who taught me how to pee while on the bike was shen. sweet shen, now happily married and pregnant with her first child. sweet in real life, tyrant survivor during races (makes you wonder which is her real self and which her alter ego).

how ladies change at the bang of the start gun..

so to me, the ironman title is quite apt seeing that it really isn't a time or place to be lady like. we become one of the boys and it is always in great admiration that some ladies beat the guys at their own game.

but we couldn't have just adopted this tyrant survivor gig. i'm quite sure all women have it in them.. we're just too lady like to do it other than in races.

for example, the first ever wilderness I can remember is locking myself up in the toilet with my cousin su-en.

there we were, sweet young things of 5.

i came up with the idea that since our parents have started letting us feed ourselves, we must be matured enough to lock the toilet door. su-en couldn't agree more. So we marched up to my mom's room, went into her toilet and closed the door.

su-en asked how does the lock work and like a pro i said, "you just push this button. see?" once locked, we realised that there was only one toilet bowl. being my guest, i let her go first. while I waited cross legged my mom called from downstairs. i instinctively wanted to open the door to answer when i realised that i couldn't unlock the door. i panicked and su-en, still seated, started to cry.

ever notice how, when you panic, your pee just feels like gushing out even more?

well, that was how i felt. su-en did not help either by being fixated to her seat. I wanted to pee right there but was too shy because at 5, you are matured enough to know that that's not what you should do.

meanwhile, my mom had rushed up with a bunch of keys to open the door from the outside. all was calm until we heard my older brother say (and i'm very sure it was said on purpose)"wah! so many keys-a? it'll take us forever to find the right one!" su-en started crying again...i only two things on my mind:
1. i need to pee... how?
2. how can anybody pee THAT long? i'm sure she's just sitting there on purpose!

the moment of truth arrived and i knew i had no other choice... and like an organised crime raid, my mom found the key, busted through the toilet door and found me peeing my life away... ... into her toilet sink...

:)

ok, maybe that was a psuedo wilderness situation. but thinking back that must have been my first pee-with-audience encounter. and when it was time to deliver, i roughed it out like the boys and delivered.

who knows, maybe that was my first calling and i was meant to be an ironman after all...

"Did you cycle here?"

2008-01-08T23:19:00.000-08:00

... My grandma's favourite question... every time i see her.

in fact she loves this question so much, that she can literally ask me an average of 3 to 4 times in half an hour.

of course, she is also one who likes variety, so she'll interact in different ways:
1. are you cycling home?
2. don't cycle home

whatever form the question or comment is made, my answer is always the same:
"no poh-poh... i drove here."

my grandma (mom's side) is 87 this year.

a lovable old lady with a gentle heart and loves spoiling her grandchildren. i like to think i am her favourite because she is always feeding me whenever i visit. and not just feeding me with everything.. mainly fruits.

she knows i love fruits and she always says with a cheeky smile and a twinkle in her eye, "a-senn, there's fresh fruits in the fridge". this, of course, is followed by the usual tale of how, as a kid, i had loved fruits so much that even the ones on the altar is not safe. i would give a courtesy nod and say a little prayer (my way of asking 'permission' to the god idols) and whoop! the apple is taken, washed and chewed on before anybody can stop me. i am almost certain i am her favourite because after awhile, she would place more fruits on the altar when she knew i was coming by.. kinda like 'contingency' fruits in case i went for the altar instead of the fridge. so if you asked me, placing extra fruits on the alter just so i can take them makes me pretty special.

we had a lot more to talk about in the past but our conversation has not progressed much since i started cycling. now, it's become very predictable:
senn: hi poh-poh
grandma: hey! did you cycle here?
senn: no poh-poh... i drove here
grandma: that's good... it's too far to cycle
(she breaks to fuss over her plants/channel/boiling water)
grandma: there's fruits in the fridge
senn: no thanks, maybe later
grandma: did you cycle here?
senn: no poh-poh... i drove here
(she breaks to watch her favourite chinese soap)
senn: ok poh-poh, i'm leaving now..
grandma: so soon? there's fruits in the fridge..
senn: yes, i've had some..
grandma: are you cycling home?
senn: no poh-poh... i drove here
grandma: dont cycle home
senn: i won't... i drove.

by now you would have probably guessed that my grandma's somewhat senile. and i believe so too. on some days, it can get much worst! these are the days when she would say i have mistaken my roots and i'm actually my granddad's sister, and not grandchild. mistaken identity, which she strongly believes is my confusion. apparently she does the same with my other cousin su-en.. claiming that su-en was the one that cycled, not me! a full dialogue would happen with su-en involving my grandma telling su-en that su-en's forgetful and confused and should remember that su-en is the one cycling, not me. (my cousin, by the way, is candle white, plans to stay that way and thinks i'm mad)

but poh-poh isn't as bad as my other grandma (dad's side).

My other grandma is 88 this year.

Not as strong, but just as sweet...when she remembered who i was. this is how my conversation has been with her for the past 3 years, maybe more:
senn: hi mah-mah!
grandma: who are you?
senn: i'm a-senn
grandma: who?
senn: senn-senn la..
(she turns to the person, any person, next to her)
grandma: who is she?
senn: hinn-chai's (dad's nick) daughter
grandma: oooooo...
(she falls asleep at the table while we eat)
senn: ok, bye mah-mah
grandma: who are you...?

i kid you not... it is that bad.

she was recently hospitalised and we had the same conversation. but it was a little different this time. when she remembered who i was, she stroked my cheek and smiled. then her memory would lapse and i had to tell her who i was all over again (those of you who have watched and remembered the old movie "the notebook" would understand what i mean by goldfish memory.)

she touched my face and stroked my cheek and forehead 4 times during my last visit when she was hospitalised. at first is was sweet, then somewhat saddening.. as if she knew her memory would lapse again and she wanted me to know she knew me and loved me very much while she could.

with an ailing mah-mah and a blissfully senile poh-poh, i can't help but wonder if goldfish memory syndrome is hereditary. (my granddad (dad's side) past away with perfect memory when i was about 20.)

my other granddad(mom's side) passed away last weekend. he was 91 and had perfect memory.

his health started declining july 2007 after a series of colds/fever and diarrhea. towards november he had to be wheeled around and spoon fed. he had also stopped talking.

but he never stopped smiling.

that's how he greeted me. always with a bright smile and as firm a grip as he could manage on my hand or arm. he knew who i was, what i did and what transport i took to his house.

though i am greatly sadden by his passing, i am also happy that he went peacefully and filled with memories.

i am happy he led a life full of love for his grandchildren (of course to the parents he was a tyrant) and was adored by all. i am grateful his passing was quick and he did not suffer much discomfort. in his final days he was surrounded by his loyal children who took turns feeding him and grandchildren who took turns giving him light back rubs and massages and telling him funny stories which he couldn't contribute but managed light giggles and shoulder shrugging.

above all, i am happy he kept his memories right till the end.

thinking back and seeing how my grandmas are living, i would want to take after my granddads. i would want to remember all my adventures: what it felt like during my first tri, my first marathon, my first over-distance ride

and MISadventures: my first fall, and able to categorise them as first ever, clipless, uphill, downhill, high speed etc. my first wilderness during a race, first time i squirted gatorade into my eyes thinking it was water... you know.. sh*t like that.

i want to be able to repeat these stories to my children, and my children's children.

i realise how much we take our days for granted. how each session is a "o! a training ride/run", a "o! a recovery ride" or "o! my timing was better last session". these are memories we are living each day now and god forbid, if grandma genes are superior, memories forgotten as i age.

so next time you go on a routine training or race, take a step back and realise whatever you are about to do or achieve is a precious memory that might just disappear later in life.

i know i'll be trying to appreciate the moment because for all you know, this could be me at 90, pointing at an old photo of me at some race, to my grandchild and saying "...and this is your grandcousin aunty su-en, she did the ironman you know..."

Seren-TRI-dipity

2007-11-04T17:37:00.000-08:00

Serendipity - a fortunate accident

those who have watched the romantic, 'divine intervention'-filled movie serendipity (starring john cusack & kate beckinsale) would be amazed by how little misfortunes can lead to one great love. in the movie, john cusack explained to kate his theory of how their paths were meant to be crossed by "some serendipi-tatous reason".

i've watched this classic hopeless romantic movie for at least 10 times in the last 6 years. every time is the same: i watch, i become love sick, and i become hopeful that there is someone out there just for me. someone who isn't afraid to plunge into the unknown with me, knowing that whatever happens we would be ok because he has me in his arms. someone who would love my quirky ways and while may not naturally accept my inner monsters, would at least learn how to tame it and lock it safe in the deepest dungeons of my heart.

while i haven't met mr serendipi-lious yet. i must admit certain great 'epic' episodes in my life occurred by accident.

seeing that it's been 6 years since i watched the movie for the first time, let's go back 6 years..

6 years ago, i met whom many know today as the person i desperately love: arif. while our meeting wasn't by chance (we just 'happened' to be colleagues), my acquired taste for escargot was.

as a kid, my more affluent cousins loved escargots. every nice dinner that i tagged along, they ordered escargots while i played it safe with lamb chops. and as a kid i always wondered what they taste like but never had the courage to try them. as i grew up, julia roberts did the famous flying escargot scene in pretty woman. as the years went by, i associated escargots with wealth, class, great taste and c'mon... it even has a sexy name... es---car---go...

so when arif started showing interest in me, my initial thoughts were "gosh! he's cute... too bad he looks like a racerboy. definitely player material". this later turned into "o dear! rich kid syndrome". but by which time i had already been swooned by him and had started working on trying to impress him with my 'class' and erm... 'great taste'. being the silly girl in infatuation (at that time) i thought "ok, my 'social status' might not be way up there, but by golly i'm going to ooze charm and fine dining!"

so finally it happened.

we went on one of our first few dates at san francisco steak house near damansara kim. not exactly fine dining, but slightly more up market. there and behold, the menu stated: 1/2 dozen escargot in creamy garlic/butter cheese melt.

my heart sank.
can't remember the exact conversation but i think it went something like this:
arif: o! they have escargots
senn: yes, they do....
arif: you said you like them, right?
senn: er... yes.. do you?
arif: honestly... never had them!
(mental note to self: next time, don't oversell about being classy enough to try exotic garden snails when in fact one has only seen what it looks like on a platter!)

senn: o! let's have something else then. it's an acquired taste.
airf: no-no.. let's order and i'll have a go at it
senn: you sure?
airf: yup!
(mental note to self: whatever you do, do not puke on your date!)

what happened next was brilliant!

i've never tried it. lied point blank to impress the guy. suffered in inner silence, waiting for the waitress to serve the dreadful escargots. feeling like on death row and just knowing the angels were laughing at my retribution.

the escargots came.
all 6 of them.

out of 'grace' i let him try first:
arif: .......
senn: is it strange?
arif: no, it's good!
senn: really?

and it was good... it was soooooo goood....

many dinners after that included the must have 1/2 dozen escargots. the best ones are served at flamanco's in plaza damansara.

serendipity - a fortunate accident.

our relationship took a break for 2 years later that year, but i took with me, my new acquired taste for slimy snails. i swear the french are the true romantics of the world to create gorgeous food out of slimy slugs.

when arif and i got together again 2 years ago, i was fresh out of a break up and dying for salvation. i had quit my job for my ex-boyfriend 3 months earlier, thinking that a change of industry on his advice would save the relationship. i searched for a new job outside my comfort industry, found one, tendered my resignation, and broke up 1 month later.

so fresh out of painful break up, feeling frumpy, quit job in industry i love and embarking on a total career shift: so much uncertainty... so much grief & loss... so many insecurities.

then i met shen.

shen was hired to replace me and what a small world: she knew arif too! for 10 years prior at that. and she also knew my ex as a childhood friend so pouring my heart out became natural.

she told me to get on with life and that i needed to achieve something. she asked what my main priority was for myself now and i said "i want to lose weight. look super hot and make him regret ditching me"

shortly after, shen and arif took me on my first bike ride.

during one of our first weekend rides, shen brought up the topic of triathlons. i still remember the short debate shen and arif had:
shen: you guys should try triathlons
arif: nah.. cyclists and triathletes hardly mix
shen: how come?
arif: well, in a way cyclists feel that triathletes are jack of all trades, master of none. at least being a cyclist, you can master something and be really good at it.
shen: well, don't knock it till you've tried it.
arif: it's an admirable hobby, i've tried it once when i was 15. but i think i'll rather be a master than a jack
shen: well, like i said. don't knock it till you've tried it.

at this point in time, arif and i were strongly drawn to each other and being the girl that never learns fast i tried to impress him... again...

the monday after that weekend's conversation i sent an email to both shen and arif. the plot was simple. just send the email, shen will reply favourably, arif will keep at being a master not a jack and i should be able to wriggle my way out by saying i don't think i can heck it alone.

my email:
guys, are we really going to do this?

shen replied:
yes, there's one coming up in april, it's only december, you'll have loads of time to train.

arif replied:
sure. why not.

damn.... and so it began.

we started training, i found muscle aches i never knew existed. i was tired. i was slugging it out. i was having loads of doubt. i was kicking myself hard each time on the way to training. "stupid senn... this is stupid. why did you have to open your big fat mouth and appear gungho. stupid. stupid stupid..."

i held out till 5 minutes before my first a'famosa sprint. reality hit but i was too embarrassed to back out. i had bought nice race stuff to hype my excitement and suppress my fear and stupidity.

kept thinking: you've done it a again... escargot syndrome...

what happened next was equally brilliant.

we finished in moderate time. had beer to celebrate and watched shen do the olympic distance the next day. and i've never felt this great in my entire life.

2 years - about 2000km on bike mileage (maybe more.. but who's counting?), 9 triathlons, 2 interstates and 1 ironman later, i am again... heartbroken and alone.

but i have had a blast.
great memories, and i'm glad i have a big mouth that made me experience things i would otherwise not have the courage to. i have learnt alot about myself, became impossibly mental when it comes to physically challenging my physically challenged body and have been blessed by so many supportive and encouraging friends.

so the next time you think your making the wrong move, suffered from foot-in-mouth disease or 'accidentally' said something you think can't possibly achieve, have faith. life might just be leading you to another great love.

serendipity - a damn fortunate accident.

Chronicles of the DIVA

2007-10-30T00:23:00.000-07:00

I've been riding my pretty Diva for almost a 6 months now..

and what a time it has been!

right from her debut ride up fraser's in may, she has proven to be a lady only few can handle. i was humbled by the fact that with wrong settings (new saddle and crank) she can be quite a pain. she can also be intimidating on steep, narrow decents. needless to say, our first ride together left me in tears and longing to return to the cow.

over the next few weeks, i struggled to earn her respect without much success resulting to doing many things for her just to ease her hostility. truly eccentric.

i did a couple of tris with her and she proved difficult. she didn't respond well if not at all, she was a total snob to me and i could hear her mumble..secretly being ashame of her new owner.

things took a turn when i decided enough was enough and i dressed her up the way that made me most comfortable. i did away with the durace crank i bought specially for her, thinking it looked really nice on her and i pushed the new saddle way forward.

the shock of being adorned by a humble compact crank and a less aggressive seating position must have hit her hard and got her thinking "o gosh! i've taken my new mistress for granted so badly and made her prove her worth in such a rediculous way that she no longer cares about making me look good anymore!"

strange, but i guess when things have always been your way, when someone was gladly giving and then suddenly that someone is fed up of being taken on a painful ride and retracts everything, you will suddenly feel humbled and very small.

things started to change when i stood up for myself with the diva.

she started responding better, in fact absolutely obedient! she was quiet, patient and ready to go when i was.

in return, i showered her with more care. i developed a fierce protection over her well being and i never let strangers touch her. and i was very proud to flaunt her beautiful curves wherever we went.

we had a total blast at this year's interstate. being the only diva made her estatic! all the admirers!

riders came up to me asking if they could take a closer look. i knew she would be happy about the attention, so i stood back a graciously allowed them to admire her at all angles. i lost count of the number of riders drooling at her sensuous curves, carrying her lightweight frame and giving her a gentle finger-flick to hear her. it didn't stop at re-grouping/start points, while riding, a pelaton will zoom pass but slow down to take a quick look and of course a courteous hello to her mistress.

i may not have been the superpowered rider she may have initially hoped to be with, but my ease and pride of owning her gave her loads of compliments and envious looks.

6 months into our relationship, we are happier than ever.

she gave me great timing at desaru and helped me survive the horrors of long weekend rides like broga reverse, klawang, bentong, bangi-pd and genting.

what started as a relationship skewed to a diva has become one of comfort and mutual respect.

i had initially fought hard to gain acceptance and recognition from my diva. even had thoughts of 'humbling' her at our next IM 2008. and she did the same by retaliating and inflicting more pain on me, making sure i knew where i truly stood in her life (which was no where next to her, and everywhere in the shadows).

but now i realised, just like any relationship, we can give all we can but we must stand up for what we want in return, in order to gain mutual respect, admiration and common ground.

while we have developed basic foundations for respect and admiration, common ground needs a lot of work. we are still in occasional clashes especially on hills she thinks i'm geared up for, when i can't deliver the power but i do believe come IM 2008 we will put our differences aside and work together towards a common goal - finishing with grace and legs for the run!

Crash Course Dummies Finale: When in rome..

2007-09-04T22:30:00.000-07:00

do what the romans do...

in my final tribute to my dear friend, i would like to share with you some insights about things that are not related to your physical training for tris at all..

race etiquette

over my two full tri seasons, i've come to understand a couple of unspoken rules which, if followed, can ensure you do not rub anybody the wrong way. of course, if your intention is to annoy somebody, then this posting's not for you! :)

1. freeloader
getting to races are as important as racing itself. there's a number of things that you need to do before actually getting there. the main ones are registration, accommodation and travel arrangements. the key here is the bigger your group is, the lesser the cost per pax, subject to room and car space.

however, it is only polite that you do not continuously rely on others to make the accommodation or travel arrangements. it is also not very tactful and people will feel taken for granted if you inform them at very last minute that you would like to join their group.

inform early and stick to one group. do not cancel last minute to join another group as this will disrupt your original group's plan (imagine, they have rejected other friends to reserve your slot only to realise two days before race that you're bunking in with another group. their cost share has gone up and it's too late to find a replacement roomie).

if it is naturally beyond your ability to take charge of room reservation or travel, offer to help in other ways like collecting race numbers, or volunteering to bring carbo-loading fruits, or offer to sleep in sleeping bag instead of the bed. the goal here is to ensure that everybody in the group contributes so that nobody gets the 'freeloader' label.

2. know when to shut up
the one thing i like about races is, it feels like a high school reunion. Apart from the usual gang that you train with, you will always see a great deal of people that you only meet at races.

naturally, it's a great time to catch up and do some sizing up. i am always happy to see these people and can't help but be extra chatting and animated.

be as crazy as you like but know when to shut up: during race briefings.

nothing annoys participants more than a chatty group at race briefings. it is inconsiderate, disrespectful to the organisers and down right rude.

if you have a question about the route or rules, ask the organiser giving the brief. he's the one who knows best. if you ask your friend beside you, you're actually disrupting his concentration and you might be disturbing other participants as you discuss your concerns.

if you are familiar with the course, you can either pay attention in case there are new pointers or just leave the room if you would like to chat and catch up with friends. you may not hear it because you're busy chatting away, but many are actually calling you an inconsiderate prick, arrogant moron and stupid yapping monkey under their breaths.

3. you did not pay more for a bigger transition spot
we are all equals and should be treated with respect on race day. How kiasu (read: unhealthily competitive) you are is reflected by how you arrange your transition area.

i have been parked next to some really nice gals who will place their transition baskets slightly behind their front wheels, and some not very considerate ones that hang their bikes loosely and transition basket loosely as well.

depending on the space available i find those who park their bikes an inch from the opponent's transition basket and their own transition basket closest possible to their front wheels most suitable. i myself have started practicing that.

if you are the sweetie that places your basket further behind, stop this. you are very sweet but you will find it very hard to get to your basket when race starts. and the girl next to you may not be as courteous, placing her bike too close. so close, that you may topple some of her stuff usually placed on the aerobars while reaching for your basket. which of course, is worse than hogging a bit more space to begin with.

if you're the transition space hogger, stop this too. This is not your bed where you are used to hogging the blankie and getting away with it.

4. on your right!
unless you are super fast that nobody passes or laps you, learn this phrase.

when you hear somebody shouting this behind you, it means a faster rider is trying to pass you, on your right. at this point either stick your course and let him ride around you or if you are far right of the lane, quickly move left to give him space.

do not hog.

as much as you would like to feel like an elite or want to challenge for the thrill of it, avoid charging and hogging. pros are there to win big bucks and chances are, if you're not top 3 material, you'll blow your little engine before you cross the finishing line.

you can however, taste a bit of pro-haven. when you pass a slower rider, shout "on your right!" and put on your most serious face when you pass them.

very important: use phrase only if able to pass and drop them for at least a few km. if not... super shy man....

5. stopping to puke/pee/poo/pengsan
if you're on the bike and feeling nauseous, have a tummy ache or wanting to pass out, remember that your bike is like your car and other riders are car drivers themselves.

if your car tyre blows, and you're approaching a corner, what do you do?

you will first look at your rearview mirror to check who's behind you. then, you would try your best to park after the corner is done or way before the corner. either way, you will try your best to not obstruct any other car or are wary that a car may not see yours and ram you from behind... correct?

same rule applies when you're doing the bike leg.

feel a sudden need to stop?
1. check who's behind you. do not brake suddenly
2. move to the side and make sure your bike is completely off the road.

if you are careless you may cause an accident and hurt yourself and somebody else.

6. suck wheel graciously
most local tris allow us the joy of drafting some body's wheel to safe energy.

if you would like to take advantage of this remember one key phrase: you're not the only smart one out there.

in short, don't take advantage of this privilege by being 'so smart' and finding a 'victim' that will do all the work while you sit there comfortably.

this is a very hard etiquette to persuade because many have this "why should i care about my opponent?" and "i'll only do it if it benefits me... and only me" attitude during races.

a very fair attitude to have.

but i've heard a lot of stories of annoyed triathletes who've experienced freeloading suckers. it is more annoying when the sucker is a relay rider because hey! you're a freeloader... you suck on some one's wheel, a full participant at that. you ravish their energy to pull you faster but yet you do not run after. the triathlete slows down so that you can help work your keep but you slow down yourself to remain in draft!

no offense to relay riders, a pat on your back for being in the race to begin with.

so, if you're a freeloader, start pulling your weight. you may be feeling really smart about taking advantage of a fellow racer but the after race stories label you a coward, a pussy and a pure annoyance.

sucking tips: know what number represents which group before you attempting sucking their wheel. if it's an age grouper, safe to draft because they have to run after the bike and will conserve energy for that. if it's a relay number, be reminded that they will be going all out on the bike because they won't need to run after. drafting a relay may use up more than your reserved energy. let them go and find a more suitable draft group.

***

wow...

proof reading this post made me realise how much angst i have about 'misbehaving' participants!

i think if we all did our part to be considerate we can all benefit from, and enjoy raceday.

i apologise if some of the points have rubbed you the wrong way, but like i said, consider the etiquette tips if you don't want to be a race nuisance but if annoying others for personal gain is what you think is best race practise... then by all means, go ahead. this blog obviously wasn't written for you...

Crash Course Dummies Part 4: Falling in love with a gazelle

2007-08-21T22:25:00.000-07:00

How many of us can honestly say we can fall in love with a gazelle, just like that?

not many i hope or you'd bring new meaning to 'animal lover'.

trick question aside, i for one am not a gazelle in love. those of you who have been following my blog would know i metaphorically mean i can't run.

i can't.

honest!

i was never a runner at school, i was never the girl jogging around the neighbourhood, and i sure as hell wasn't the one nike marketeers were hoping to reach by featuring graceful runners in funky gym clothes and long strides on their giant posters.

nope. not me.

i remember my expedition to climb mt kinabalu some 6 years ago. in my ambition to climb the highest peak in south east asia, i started going to the gym. i spent 20-30mins everyday on the treadmill, and about the same amount on the stair-master. among the group that i was travelling with, i was the most hardworking. i was also the youngest.

i still remember how i would boast to them my treadmill speed and incline setting. i would also show off my ability to climb batu cave stairs effortlessly, doing 10 repeats each time. they too were full of awe as they saw me prove my point about how strong i've become when our group tracked around gasing heights.

and then it happened.

someone said, "you're really fast at climbing, i'm curious to see how fast you run"

after telling them my routine of starting at 7 speed on the treadmill graduating to 10, sometimes 12 by the end of the 30min session, someone else said "wow... we must go to lake gardens as additional training for mt kinabalu. Senn can teach us how to run!"

....senn can teach us how to run....

i confidently, and in my most humble manner possible albeit a very very swollen ego said, "sure, next weekend perhaps?"

come the following weekend i was ready. we met at lake gardens and decided to just run around the lake seeing that it's every body's first time running together. my 'students' and i started the first loop in a happy mood. brisk walking to warm up... arm stretches to get the blood flowing, light skipping to get the heart rate up...

then we started a slow jog...

...then i started running a little faster
... a little faster
... a little faster

and just as i thought i was at a comfortable speed, similar effort to treadmill, my friends passed me. one by one.

one, by painful, one.

i'm like "wtf?? they must be running too fast, they'll tire out soon and then i'll pass them and this steady pace.."

...i never did.

we covered 3 loops that day and they waited about 15mins for me to finish my last loop. i felt so sheepish, humbled by the fact that my friends could have set me up. served me right for being so boastful.

but they were honestly impressed and thought i could share my secrets of running before actually seeing me run!

when i finally joined the group, one of them said "um... are you unwell today?" i said "no, why? was i really that bad?"

friend: well, there were loads of action, high bounce but not much stride. you kinda looked like you were running on a treadmill at high speed!

hmmm... anyway, we finally made it to the top about a month later. came back feeling all proud of ourselves only to read that 12 handicapped children under 18 made it up there during a sponsored event two weeks later in the papers.

oh well.

6 years and a few runs later, am still running the same way. except in longer distance.

so, while i ain't no run guru, i have learnt a few things that could probably help some of you wanting to start running.
1. treadmill queen does not translate road queen
if you're a gym junkie and a treadmill hogger, be aware that your performance on the treadmill has very little reflection on your performance on actual road. don't get me wrong, treadmills are great (a little boring once you've tasted outdoor running but great nonetheless). how else better to time your run? how else to better control your surrounding, terrain and watch tv at the same time?

on the road, how far and how frequent your strides are determine how fast you run. resistance is higher and terrain is not determined by buttons. weather also plays a part. running outside is definitely harder than running on the treadmill. it also gives you an opportunity to check how the race distance actually feels like to your body.

so, if you're thinking of joining an actual race, take your running outside because what you're really doing on the treadmill is jumping and spreading your legs midair for 30mins or more. the auto-rolling platform below actually helps lower resistance. it's a good form of cardiovascular development and probably even increase stamina but not good enough for actual racing.

2. road safety
if this is your first time running outdoors pay close attention to road safety. when cycling, you should ride in the direction of traffic but when you run, do it against traffic. this way you are able to see cars coming and it is also harder to be abducted when you run facing traffic.

make sure your senses are on full alert when running. i personally would love to run with music in my ears but have disciplined myself to not do so because i will not be able to hear my surroundings with the music pumping into my eardrums. if you must run with music, make sure it's either soft enough to hear other things or use only one side of the earphones.

3. glow in the dark
morning runs are the best. air is cool and it isn't sunny. but with our busy lifestyles, evening runs seem to be more feasible sometimes.

if you only run evenings, make sure you can be seen by night drivers. wear light clothing, preferably with reflective strips.

when we ran up genting at night last year, we didn't have the choice of running against traffic. so what we did was we actually wore mining headlights turned to the back so that we were more visible to oncoming cars. i attached a few tiny lights on my run cap, blinking white and red. ms christmas tree i was - very festive but very safe.

4. run buddy
it is actually highly dangerous to run alone regardless of time (more so after dark, of course). make sure you run with a buddy or two. if they're stronger runners, request shorter regrouping points or ask that they look back once awhile to make sure you're ok especially before turning a blind corner.

if you are the faster runner, make sure you do not sprint too far ahead that they can't see you if there is trouble. turn back at blind corners if you are uncertain. take the distance running back to your friend as extra mileage rather than a 'hindrance' of not completing the distance in your usual time. staying safe is far more important. besides, who has ever said "i won in my last training session with my friends"? if you are truly faster than your friends, it will be revealed at actual race day where it matters more.

if you have no choice but to run alone, do not choose a secluded route. keep to one that you know will be full of people or at least civilisation that you can run to in case of danger.

5. be unpredictable
we are, to a certain extent, creatures of habit. but try not to do this when running, especially if you fly solo. crime is hardly random and usually planned. so if you have a predictable run schedule, the baddies are able to plan their attack very easily.

when possible carry a handphone in case of emergency and always ensure at least somebody knows where you are going.

6. fall in love
i've saved this point last as it would appear hypocritical for me to advice how to fall in love with a gazelle when i myself am having problems opening my heart.

but since racing for two seasons, i have collected a few standard things that can help you find the gazelle a bit more attractive:
a: lean like you're falling
- when you run, maintain a straight spine and relax your shoulders. lean forward as if you are going to topple over. your natural instinct would be to put one foot forward to stop your fall. by maintaining this posture, your feet will naturally fall in front of each other with very little effort.
b: touch you knee and kick your butt
- as you run, occasionally reach forward to tap your knees. and when you feel like it, kick up your leg far enough to touch your butt. tapping your knees makes you remember to lean forward enough for your feet to move. the butt kicking is to stretch your legs and getting them use to longer strides.
c: hold your 'spander' straps
- many people (i'm definitely still guilty of this) move their arms too much when running. a good gauge is to imagine a line in the middle of your chest. swing your arms forward and not across this line to conserve energy. a good practise is to imagine you wear trouser 'spanders' and hold them at chest level while you run.

there are many other tips on how to fall in love. but one thing that sticks with me most is determination.

never stop running. no matter how slow. i read somewhere that one should not worry about speed. just concentrate on technique and speed will eventually come. no matter how slow my run still is, i found this point very true.

my race at desaru last weekend is a case in point.

i was running my last 8k. i was tired but have made sure i ran the entire 21k regardless of how mini my strides were. i had fellow triathlete willie with me and darling arif on the bike as escort.

when arif said i only had less than 5k to go, i found my second wind. i picked up my speed a bit more. he said "good, at this speed you'll finish in under 40-45mins". that felt good. willie kept cheering beside me. my legs were heavy but i felt sudden adrenaline coming back.

then i spotted our shadow on the road...

...gawd! i looked like one of those chubby short aunties wearing a tight corset wobbling her way to the market. only thing missing was my basket of vegetables!

it was a hard sight to look at, especially since i thought i was running full on. then i realise that willie who has been brisk walking all this while beside me....was still brisk walking!

alas, false love again.

nevertheless, i finished in good spirit and later checked that i had wobbled faster than arif did last year where he walked most of the way because of massive back pains.

so no matter how horrid you think your run is and no matter how horrid it really is... it is always faster than walking.

i may not be a gazelle in love but i suspect i'm falling... ever so slowly..but ever so surely...

Crash Course Dummies Part 3: Ride safe!

2007-08-12T22:31:00.000-07:00

Riding with confidence can mean racing safe.

when i first started cycling, i was 5. i had a cute little tricycle, complete with ribbons, a basket and a bell. Every evening dad would take me to the park and set me free. there, i will ride alongside him and occasionally, my menacing elder brothers. as i grew older, i graduated to cycling around the neighbourhood, this time dad would either cycle or jog with me.

very standard image, right?

that's what i thought until i spoke to him in later years.

see, being so young, i have blurred and selective memories about my early riding days. but i always remembered one feeling: safe.

i always felt safe. never felt that i needed to worry. never even knew i should worry.

while all these years i thought i was just born daring, i recently realised i wasn't. i was brought up that way.. thanks to my parents (and it's actually a humbling experience when you realise your parents actually know more tricks than you do!)

when my parents decided that i should learn how to cycle, their objective was:
1. get her interested
2. make her brave

so this was exactly what my dad did:
1. catching senn's eye
my dad bought me a pretty tricycle. it wasn't a standard three wheeler, more like a mini bike, with two wheels and hooked on training wheels. honestly, i can't remember the full details but i remembered wanting to ride it because it was pretty. the basket in the front was a huge blast with me. i would carry all sorts of nonsense in it and pretend that i was delivering stuff. and it had a bell!! i was sold!

while i don't remember my very first ride, i do remember park rides and what a racket my training wheels made on the uneven pedestrian path.

mission accomplished: senn is interested.

2. introducing senn to evil knievel
i can't remember how long i had training wheels on, but i know it felt forever. and it was great. i hardly fell, i could ride faster, and i had no worries about heavy traffic (read: naughty brothers weaving around me) because when i feel like i was going to bump into something, i just stop. when the coast was clear, i just continued.

it wasn't until i was 7 and have long outgrown my 'tricycle' that my dad said time to switch bikes. i thought "what a cool idea... i want a prettier one!"

no such luck...

being tight for money, i got my brother's old bike :(

it was an ugly, rusting dark red bike. heavy and not attractive at all! and did i say, it had no training wheels??

i was sad. but had already enjoyed cycling so much i figured "rough it out till your birthday comes".

and this conversation i remember:
dad: ok senn! this is your bike now. come try it
senn: but it's ugly
dad: never mind... still got two wheels..try first... come!
senn: but it's too big!
dad: good for you. then you'll grow faster.. come!
(right about now i was feeling like a puppy being called by the master!)
senn: but i'll fall! no wheel-wheel (read: training wheels. had no idea at that time there was actually a name for it)
dad: but you haven't been using them for more than 1 year! faster la... come!

hang on....

i have never been able to describe how i felt at that point in time until m. night shyamalan directed sixth sense..

know the last twist towards the end when bruce willis found out he was actually dead?

yea...same feeling

memories of my trusty wheel-wheels.. they were there! they stopped my from falling! i would stop and they were there to help balance! they were! i swear!

think dad saw the confusion in my face.

he took out my tricycle and said "see?"

true enough. my wheel-wheels were at least 2 inches above ground. over the span of a year and a half my dad had slowly adjusted it higher from ground level to above ground without me knowing. when i dismount, the bike stood, leaning until the training wheels touched the ground. but when i rode, it was just the two wheels.

i later found out that he did the same thing with my swimming floats. i started out at 5 with fully inflated arm floats. every 2 to 3 weeks, he will inflate it a little less. by about 7 months, i really didn't need them anymore but wore them till my parents enrolled me with a swim coach at the age of 6.

how i have been conned!

it wasn't until i was 15 did the whole episode of giving your kid a false sense a security came out. i had met a classmate that enjoyed riding and decided to try it with her with my brother's 5-speed, heavy as hell road bike.

feeling cheated all this while, i asked my dad point blank: why did you trick me about the training wheels and the arm floats?

his answer was simple and one that i admit has done wonders for me.

"to build confidence"

it's strange how a small gesture like tricking your kid into thinking she's safe can build her confidence. but it's very true. when i thought i had my training wheels, my mind was at ease. i didn't worry too much about falling and focused more on things like maintaining momentum and riding straight. i wasn't afraid to look left or right while riding because i didn't have to concentrate too much on what's directly in front of me that i neglect my surroundings (read: up to no good brothers trying to race pass me). i wasn't nervous and learned sub-consciously how to manage distance like how long it will take to stop if i went at what speed.

confidence is one thing you will need to ride.

forget how lousy your bike is.
forget how slow you ride.

be confident.

confidence on the bike is not something we are born with. it is something we train ourselves to do. just like driving. and it's best to build your confidence while you are training on your bike.

as we're all too old to be fooled by "false securities", here are some tips that can help you build confidence while riding.
1. stop strangling your handlebar
a very normal thing to do when you ride on the roads for the very first time. you've never felt traffic zooming pass you before and you're worried about potholes ahead.

relax.

clenching your handlebars or getting "white knuckles" automatically tightens your entire body. you become rigid and will not be able to think fast or make sudden movements to avoid a mishap.

instead, start of with a sturdy bike. with sturdy wheels like open pros.

while we haven't addressed your initial fears of road riding, the fact that your first bike is hardly anything to shout about and your wheels are strong gives you peace of mind to 'trash it' a little. think a trusty 4x4 vs a shiny new speedster.

2. be one with the bike
think of your bike as an extension of yourself. as if you were born with wheels and riding really is like walking to you.

how does this help?

simple, think of the things you would do while walking on a busy street and apply that while you are riding.

on a busy street, you would walk as far to the edge as possible but making sure you have room left before going off road. you would also not fix your line of sight to just what's in front of you. you would look left, right, occasionally behind you to ensure your surrounding is safe.

if there's a pothole in front of you, you would either walk around it or jump over it. but either way you will still check what's coming behind you. same goes when you're on a bike. i used to be afraid of doing so because the bike swerves to the direction of my head. arif taught me to straighten my shoulders and touch my chin to my shoulder when wanting to look back. this ensures that your bike remains straight as you check your surroundings.

if traffic doesn't allow you to go around the pothole, just ride through it if it isn't crater sized. you'll hear a loud thud. at this point, if you have been strangling your handlebars, you will most probably lose balance and fall. but if you hold your handlebar correctly, the only damage is a loud thud, a possible flat, and wrist vibration. a good hold is one when it's firm enough to keep the handlebar straight, but light enough for your handlebar to move to the natural groove of the pit. this takes time and a sturdy set of wheels to master. but very useful to ensure you don't ride into traffic just to avoid a pothole.

and never ever squeeze the brakes hard as you enter the pothole (something you're more likely to do if you do not relax that death grip on the handlebar). you will most definitely fly forward.

3. ride decisively
many people think that bikes, being smaller, has less 'voice' on the road. not true.

but if you are timid on the bike, you will appear to have a smaller 'voice' and may be subject to being bullied.

if you want a louder 'voice' on the road, imagine that you are driving BUT with a little more caution because you are less visible on a bike.

we drive with confidence, we signal when we want to change lanes (by default we should!) and we learn that hesitating is far more dangerous than being decisive.

ride with a clear direction. no sudden moves.

we lost a dear rider last year on one of the sunday rides at putrajaya. those who know the route, will tell you that it's actually quite a puzzle how she got hit by a small kancil of a car from behind. for starters, it's a bright sunday morning. the particular stretch of road is relatively low in traffic. and it's a five lane highway.

five lanes.

i wasn't there when it happened but was told that the car hit her when the road started to divide into an intersection with an overhead. she had wanted to go straight, the car had wanted to keep left.

two stories:
a) moron of a driver should have been a little more patient when changing lanes.
b) she was a new rider and possibly panicked with the raging car behind her and made a sudden move thinking that she was getting out of his way.

while it would be unfair of me to say that had she stood her ground, she would not have gotten hit, (hell, simon cross is an excellent rider and he got hit!) i do feel that you need to build confidence on your bike by riding decisively. and when you ride decisively, you become less unpredictable to the zooming cars behind or around you. they can be morons and choose to cut in front or be patient and wait behind you but bottom line, they can at least sense what your next move is.

and that... means you have a voice to be reckoned with on the road.

keep practising these tips. ask your more experience riding buddies how you ride and what they think you should try out to be more confident (because strangely, experienced riders themselves find it scary to ride with riders that have low confidence or are timid and indecisive)

once you've built enough confidence on actual road riding, races would be less intimidating. especially since they would often close the roads to traffic and you would have policemen/marshals to help ensure safety.

Crash Course Dummies Part 2: Swimming lessons

2007-08-06T05:07:00.000-07:00

For all you swimmers who have forgotten that you were once champions.

triathlon swimming is not the same as swim races. For starters, there are no race lines. Other differences include:
1. murky water
2. unpredictable currents
3. strange tasting water
4. uncivilised competitors

of all the differences above, the one you should be most wary of, is uncivilised competitors.

triathlon swimmers are like Malaysian drivers. the radio ads we hear are so true. Malaysians in general are friendly, caring and tolerant. But put them in a car and give them the keys and hell breaks loose. tailgating, honking, cutting dangerously in front.

impatient, inconsiderate and down right rude. especially in traffic jams.

a tri swim start is very much like rush hour traffic. loads of people wanting to get to their destination the quickest way possible.

so, if this is your first triathlon, the swim itself will shock you. Here are some tips that will help you prepare for raceday nightmare:
1. start at the back
you may have heard this a lot from your other seasoned triathletes. the reason is normally "because you're not sure of your swim and may be slow". the more important reason i feel is because it makes you less vulnerable to uncivilised swimmers. no matter how fantastic a swimmer you are, if you're used to proper swim lanes, you're not 'streetwise' enough to handle swim traffic on your first tri. it is totally everybody for they own out there and starting at the back, you can have a small taste of it and then brave it to the middle pack as you graduate to the front, when you're gungho enough.

2. swim the outer lane
the rule, stick to the inner lane along lined buoys for the shortest route and most efficient navigation is true, but highly inadvisable on your first tri. safety to swim close so that you can hang on to the buoys in case you're in trouble is also not good enough a reason to risk getting in the way of an uncivilised swimmer on your maiden tri. this is because every swimmer is gonna want to stick to that line and if you're slow, chances of getting hit or swam over is very high. stick to outer premises, that way you are not restricted by the buoys on the left and have the option to move to your right or left in case you're stuck in a 'swim'pede.

3. study the course and flag off system
race briefing is normally done the day before or a couple of hours prior (if you're in a sprint). if you missed both, make sure you pay attention to the briefing again when organisers repeat it just before race starts. this is important as the organiser will announce what the swim course is and how you will be flagged off. in my year of tris, there are a few types of swim courses:
a) the out and back
- very simple straight or curved swim course. stick to the back and slightly on the outer lane and you will minimise getting bumped into

b) the origami (funny shaped, like a T or W)
- normally mapped out in restricted swim area like a marina where you swim along boats. navigation is going to be hard so be extra cautious of lost swimmers crashing into you.

c) the carousel
- when the swim course involves looping it twice. highly chaotic even if you start at the back as faster swimmers will lap you. a good gauge is to be wary as you complete the first loop, that's normally where you will get lapped.

flag off normally comes in to ways: mass start and in waves

mass starts are not as frightening. if you stick to the back, you're relatively safe. but be careful of flag offs in waves. strong swimmers from a later wave will be crashing through even if your wave started 5 mins earlier. this is where swimming in the outer premise is important. you will experience higher levels of body crashes, slaps and kicks if you stick to the inner lane by the buoys and you will have no where to go as it'll be coming from the right and you can't go any further left because of the line. imagine a 'swim'pede and being caged in with no escape route.

Some friends told me that arwah zubir's autopsy included concussions. he had started at the back but my wave which consisted of relay swimmers and all women started 5 mins after. if the story about the autopsy is true, it is possible that he got kicked or slapped on the head by a stronger swim in my wave.

4. do the seaweed
notice how agile seaweed is? bending according to currents, weaving around our bodies? this is a good plant to observe for tri swimming. be alert, and move according to the body clashing. avoid being rigid.

when we're swimming, we learn to keep the body straight for maximum efficiency. each stroke mechanically in front delivering power pulls. excellent tip for lane swimming or later into the swim course when traffic begins to lighten due to differing speed. but extremely bad news if you're a newbie and have no idea what a 'swim'pede is.

'swim'pede normally last the first 200m or so. after that, traffic lightens and you can very safely practice what you have learnt about swimming close to the line and lengthening your body straight for maximum energy output. but before this 200m is over, here are some tips on how to do the seaweed:
a) forget proper swim strokes
- whether u plan to front crawl, breast stroke or do a combo, keep in mind that your first 200m ain't going to give you enough room in the sea of bodies to fully extend your strokes. don't force your body to be extended if the traffic doesn't allow. do shorter strokes, bend a little so that your body is limber. it's common physics: a softer surface absorbs impact more gracefully that a hard surface. think "my body has crumple zones..."

b) feel the chi
- water chi is nothing supernatural or spiritual. it's basically light currents you will feel because somebody is swimming too close to you either from the side or in front. enhance your senses, the water is going to be cloudy, sometimes you can't see any further than a few inches from your extended hand.after many swim starts, i notice i will always feel a sudden gush of small currents or see bubbles before something (read: foot, leg, face, body etc) hits me.

bernard's blog says practice swimming laps wearing dark goggles in late evenings. very good tip to help you enhance your senses when sight is a luxury.

c) my head is my temple
our bodies can take a fair bit of torture before caving in, but the slightest blow on the right spot of our heads and we'll be in serious trouble.

the first 200m is more survival than performance. your arms are not your pedals at this stage, propelling you forward. you arms are your shields until the madness is over. extending about half a meter in front of you, use them to gauge if there's something in front of you before you pull forward. if you feel water chi, or touch something, slow down. stop, put your head up and thread water to check your surroundings if you have to. don't worry about somebody bumping behind you because you've stopped in their tracks, at least you head is safely above water and hand slaps tend to give softer blows than full kicks. he'll be annoyed, but will not be able to swim on top of you, he'll have to go around you.

something i do, which you can try mastering is fast navigation. when i feel water chi or touch someones toes, i immediately put my head up. almost always, i will see a swimmer in front of me. i'll do a quick right look to see if there's anyone directly next to me and change my direction north-east. i never check the left. to me, left leads to the dead end buoys, and my objective is to get out of the traffic. after much practice, i have been able to do this without missing a stroke.

5) forgive thy neighbour
'swim'pede is normal and not personal. as much as i have preached about uncivilised swimmers, i have had my share of feeling teeth with my toes and soft bellies as i breast stroked. it's just the nature of a swim start. and seriously, i can't see who's behind me so it was very unintentional.

one swim, the water was clear enough and i saw a swimmer below me! now that is plain rude. but hey! he just wants to go faster.

the point of this, is not so much about how we should accept the chaos that awaits and do the best we can about it, but more about remaining calm. if you got kicked repeatedly, squashed out of your space or swam over, remain calm. getting upset and frustrated ain't going to do you any good. you lose focus, you become uptight and will forget that it's only 200m, not even half the sprint or 1/3 of the olympic distance. relax. shit happens. focus on protecting yourself, try to get out of the traffic for a more peaceful swim. you'll be safe and you will navigate better when you are calm.

my one saving grace from being fully uncivilised is that i am able to change strokes at any point without breaking rhythm. so if i'm breast stroking and touch a soft belly, i will immediate change to front crawl to avoid kicking the guy again. if i feel somebody touching my toes while i'm doing the front crawl, i do a quick right check and swim north-east out of his way.

tips aside, don't worry too much about your first tri swim. you're out there to have fun. if the situation screws up your swim, no worries. relax and know that you'll get them back next time.

besides, weren't we all champs of a mass swim start once in the massive sea called mommy's womb?

Crash course dummies Part 1

2007-07-31T00:04:00.000-07:00

A hitchhiker's guide for tri newbies.

it's been a week and a half now since the passing of our dear friend and i've been having mental blocks on how to write my next entry.

why?

because i have unanswered questions which i haven't a clue how to address in order to fully move on.
because it was inconceivable how careless a race organiser can be, when it comes to safety control.
because he was a dear friend and it's hard to accept that he had died in vain if nothing was learnt from his passing.
because i still mourn.

i've been gathering my thoughts, and finding ways how to keep the fond memories and move on. how to address those nagging questions (how could nobody see he was in trouble? how could he be in trouble in the first place? why the hell did he pick such a big race as his first ever?) and how i can share with other newbies or seasoned racers so that his passing was not in vain.

my entry today and for the next 2 or 3 after this, will be in loving memory of him.

Crash course dummies - Part 1: How to pick a race
i notice there are two mindsets of people when they first pick up triathlons: those in it for the fun, and those in it for the bragging rights.

neither has gotten the concept wrong and both have the right to feel the way they do.

whether you're in it for fun or bragging rights, if this is your first time, my sincere advice to you is be humble about where you start.

why?

because it doesn't matter what your physical fitness base is. it's also irrelevant how strong a swimmer, biker or runner you are. your first race will only spell one thing:

chaos.

what people take for granted most is raceday conditions and this is only natural because we train in a friendly environment either with a group of friends or solo. i'm not sure how far the 'friendly environment' part is true to you but in my past year of training, i have not heard or said "golly, did you see the way arif punched me while we were swimming laps?" or "that was a good ride, if only bernard wouldn't suck my tail all the way only to drop my in the last few kms"

so, first thing to remember:
training (swimming laps, sunday bike rides, weekend long runs) gives you zero indication of what raceday conditions are like. no matter how big your group is.

none of us would like to admit that our egos are bigger than we think. and while some of us are blessed with a caring other half that reminds us to be humble and not be so cocky, most of us are left to be victims of our own unadmitted egos.

let me be the first: i am egoistic.

my ego, while some may think is nonexistent, is there and it's huge. why else would my motto for tris be "just do it, or die trying"? when i'm struggling uphill at 3km/h, doing my circus act (read: balancing the bike), why else would i say "i rather fall off this bike because i can't balance on it anymore than to get off and push". why else would i still feel regret for my desaru race last year when i decided to pull out because my bike chained broke 15k from transition? thoughts of "senn, you should have just pushed the bike back and did the run. you could have done it. push up hill, straddle down hill. in total in would have just been a 36k run." well, had i mastered marshal arts then, i would have fought off the marshal that told me i could not continue with my bike's condition.

ego.

you may argue that because you know me, i'm just extremely determined and admirable (bless your soul for being blind because you are fond of me :D). but i'm telling you, my determination stems from ego. this may be a little deep, but the fact that i'm admitting to an ego larger than i can carry off, is already an egoistic act on my part.

my entry today is not about condemning those with egos. that would be outright silly. egos are good. egos make us push ourselves to achieve what seems beyond our reach. egos, when managed correctly makes us confident and to a certain extend make us popular in our group.

that's right... 'managed correctly'.

egos are like those things in life that can potentially be dangerous if not managed or handled properly. knives, for example, are very much like our egos. if handled correctly, it's a very useful and probably the most needed kitchen utensil, but disrespect it and it will make you bleed. petrol is another. without petrol, the only people who will make it to meetings on time in this modern world would be the gazelles in love. can you imagine being late for a meeting and saying "sorry boss, the 40k to office had to be at recover speed because of that outstation meeting yesterday"? we use petrol with great ease and take for granted that what we potentially have in our vehicles, is highly combustible liquid.

so, how is this relevant to choosing your first race?

simple: by being honest to yourself and assessing your true ego size, you can then decide whether the unpredictable race conditions may be too overwhelming for you. you do not need to share it with anyone if you're uncomfortable, but you must assess yourself.

your first tri will be like no other races that you've been in before. you're a champion cyclists and always top 10 in cyfora races, you're a national state swimmer 3 years in a row, you're a duathalon champ in your circle of friends, you're a top track runner and an excellent marathon racer or you've only started cycling 6 months ago, you plan to swim kampung style because someone said start at the back and just waddle your way through, running is not in your vocab: none of this will matter because it will not determine the raceday conditions of your first tri.

training and physical ability is half of the body conditioning for raceday. and to me, it's the smaller half. the bigger half is mental strength.

sounds dodgy, but hear me out.

training is important. train hard and your body is conditioned (read: tortured) enough to get use to strenuous exertion on raceday. but training does not condition your body to one thing on raceday: exhiliration.

imagine, this is your first tri, you've trainned all you can. you made sure your transition area is perfect, you've heard of great tri stories, you've even picked out a race bunny. but you suddenly feel nervous. butterflies in your stomach. "will i cramp in the swim? what if i forget my gels for the bike? shit! where are my gels?? ok-ok... i've placed them right. spare tube in saddle bag, CO2... hmmm... don't think of flats!"

your mind is full of anxiety, your heart is beating in your ears and the race hasn't even started. bad news.

the guy next to you and a hundred others are feeling just like you... double bad news.

exhilaration and anxiety injects adrenaline into your veins. you're on a natural high making you brave and gungho, which equals pumped up egos. everybody there is going to do their best and with pumped spirits, they will be racing quite aggressively. and in such a condition, your mental strength to remain calm and focus on completing the race without taking unnecessary risks is vital.

so, second thing to remember:
acknowledge your ego and embrace whatever size it is so you can mange it better.

when you decide to do a race, make it part of your sanity check to ask yourself "am i comfortable with the distance, or am i just signing up because my ego says i can heck it?"

Talk to those who have done the particular race and ask them how it went. admire their hero stories but make sure you find out what was difficult about it. like, was the water choppy? how did that impact them? what was it like to ride 30km/h in the rain? were they scared? what did they do to calm themselves? how would they have raced differently? think of all the negatives and learn from them.

if you have doubts after hearing all this, try a shorter version of race. if you think you can heck it, don't stop yourself. but at least now you won't be so shocked about raceday aggression.

if you're a seasoned triathlete, do your part in ensuring your newbie friends are well aware of what they are getting themselves into. gloat about your victories but pull them aside and tell them what darkness lurk on raceday. what shit to expect and how to overcome it. if you sense that your friend may be taking a risk advice them on a 'test' race (sprint distance) instead. egg them on only if you are very sure that they will have a safe race.

they will never know how raceday conditions will be like for their first tri if you do not share your experience with them. it is irrelavant how many bike races they have succeeded in, how many channels they have swam or how many marathons they have participated. triathlons, duathlons, single sports are all animals in their own right.

my cycling guru richard, actually prohibited me from joining cyfora last year because he said i lacked the experience of handling my bike and would panic because i'll be biking a mere inch away from the next guy in a heated pelaton. and he said something really sweet: "senn, don't race because it is madness, i won't be able to take care of you when i am racing and it would worry me that you're out there being bullied"

be honest with your friends and tell them what they should think about. ultimately, the decision is theirs. but at least you have done your part as a caring friend to equip them with what to expect.

you may actually be saving a life.

Desaru International tri 2007 - a tribute to Zubir

2007-07-23T01:16:00.000-07:00

We are very proud of Zubir for starting his first triathlon race yesterday. It is unfortunate that we were unable to celebrate his first finish with him.

A small group of us would like to make our next triathlon (Desaru) a tribute to Zubir. We are proposing a minute silence AFTER flag-off in his memory.

Tribute mechanics:

1. gather at the back of swimmers at race start

2. when the gun goes off remain on shore in a minute silence while others start the race

3. we start our race in tribute to Zubir after 1 min

4. (optional) when we cross the line we can say in our hearts/own way.. "this one's for you Zubir"

Please join us/spread the word to all that you think would be interested to join our tribute. You are most welcome to copy and paste this entry on your personal blogs to help widen coverage.

We are also open to other ideas of how to pay tribute to him during desaru

"..see you on the bike"

2007-07-22T18:58:00.000-07:00

We lost a dear friend at the pd international triathlon 2007, yesterday.

it was to be his first triathlon race and i shared an animated conversation with him at the starting line. as the events unfold yesterday, the surreal feeling has left me in a total blur state. while i'm beginning to doubt the reality of that conversation, my memory keeps taking me back to that scene, just minutes before his age category was flagged off.

(i apologise in advance if my captions below is an ignorant way of addressing a muslim friend that has passed on.)

senn: you ready?
Allahyarham zubir: you're going to swim faster than me!
senn: no la... you're being flagged off 5 minutes earlier!
Allahyarham zubir: makes it worst! haiyo pressure... try not to swim so fast, i'll be embarassed!
senn: but you'll get me on the bike. so, see you on the bike
Allahyarham zubir: yes! see you on the bike!

- in loving memory of zubir

"My bike's ok"...

2007-07-10T00:38:00.000-07:00

... the true indication that the cyclist is ok after a big fall.

every cyclist falls. it's just a matter of whether it's a small (read: embarrassing) clipless fall or a high speed crash into the ditch.

i myself have had my fair share of falls. i fell so many times during my first month of cycling that mom stopped asking how my ride was and started asking "where did you leave your skin samples this time?"

for the record: my skin samples can be found at damansara heights, hartamas, sg long, tmn megah in front of boon foo's, en route batu arang, fraser's hill, putrajaya, cyberjaya and most recently pd.

save for damansara heights, cyberjaya and pd, the above were at fairly low or no speed clipless falls. most embarrassing of the lot would have been boon foo's and en route batu arang.

two falls in one day.

very possible if it's your first day using clipless and you did not heed your friend's advice to do clip-in/out exercises against a wall before trying them out on a ride.

i had bought it two days before, within my second month in riding, and decided to try them out at the next ride: boon foo's bikepro sunday ride, tmn megah-bt arang with mentor richard.

big mistake.

there i was, amongst giants. feeling humbled i decided to be at the back of the pack. richard asked if i knew how to use clipless.

"nope"
"ok, first you clip in your right"

click!

"then when we push off, you clip in your left"

i only heard, "clip in your left"

for some unknown reason, law of physics escaped my mine. i confidently lifted my left foot and before i realised how dumb i was to have both legs off the ground without momentum, i fell inches from the filthy drain, in front of boon foo's.

8 bikepro riders had clear view of me as they turned to hear what the crash was... 5 ahead tried but didn't really bother.

i was quite glad that we eventually lost the pack after some hard riding trying to hold on to them (ok, i'll be honest, we lost them before reaching the underpass tunnel heading to 1-Utama from boon foo's)

since richard didn't know the way too well using the excuse that his view was normally the back of someone's wheel all the way so he never noticed landmarks (show off...), we tried our best to reach bt arang.

we met another rider on the way and he decided to join us. en route to bt arang, he had a flat. richard way in front and i approached him while he was busy replacing his tube.

"need help?" i asked (what was i thinking! i didn't even know how to change a tube!)

as i stopped, my early lessons of left & right escaped me. i unclipped my right foot but have always had the tendency to stop with my left.

so, braked lightly, right foot unclipped, left foot still clipped, lean left to dismount as bike slowed down.

another big mistake....

i fell the moment i leaned left before my bike could come to a complete stop. i somehow ended up face in gravel, bike on top of me.

"need help?" he asked.. (what a strange conversation i thought...)

over time, i graduated to 'higher' speed crashes. the most scary one being cyberjaya one rainy sunday morning.

i have no recollection of what really happened because i passed out upon impact. all i remember is, wet road, turn left, darkness, open eyes, saw people around me and i'm flat on my back.

this is what arif remembered: wet road, turn left, push ahead, heard crash behind, thought "hope that's not senn", turned around, "senn!"

as arif and others fussed around me, picked me up and sat me on the side curve, bernard came up and said "don't worry, you're bike is ok.. how are you?"

i never fully understood what he meant then. and everybody thought it was funny how he was the only one that went straight for my bike when others went to see how i was doing.

i was only 3 -4 months old in the cycling group and thought "why would i care about my bike in a crash?" and "my bike?? my helmet's cracked in four places at the back, which could have been my coconut and he worries about my bike?? bike nazi..."

Some weeks later, arif had a high speed crash on the way back from genting peres. he got thrown from his bike, head first into the concrete drainage and broke his carbon bars in the process.

he had drafted too near the guy in front. his front clipped the rider's back and he went falling across the street towards the ditch. apart from a swelled groin, and a small cut just below his eye, he was ok. while waiting for support he told me what went through his mind:
"shit, i touched the wheel"
"shit, this is going to hurt"
"shit, is my bike going to be ok?"
"shit, if my bike is damaged, how much is it going to cost?"
"shit, if i get damaged how long am i going to be out of action?"
"shit....longkang.."

funny how one can think of so many things when everything is over within seconds. and again, at that time i didn't fully understand his need to think about his bike.

over the next few months coming towards this year, nothing too exciting happened and i eventually graduated from my faithful cow to the diva . by now, i have grown to love my cycling, my cow, and my new diva. i believed they spoke to me and while it sounds a bit psycho, i have hugged my frames occasionally as they hung from the bike rack at home. and it saddens me to see the cow looking like a carcass without wheels, groupset, or handlebars.

something changed in me over this year and i think i'm beginning to understand the natural instinct of placing your bike's well being before your own. your bike is so much an extension of yourself that to a certain extend, it feels like your baby. own flesh and blood to care for and protect.

although i try to separate my feelings and say "yes, i love my bike, i would be miserable without it, but my safety is more important", i think i have sub-consciously become a bike nazi like bernard.

i have no idea when or where it started creeping into my head and heart. i didn't even know how strong a hold it had on me until my crash at pd over the weekend.

we were approaching a junction in a group at the pd triathlon dry-run when fellow triathlete randy fell because of slippery tarmac. he got up and shouted "oil! oil!". we became cautious and turned left. as we turned, the rider in front of me skidded and fell. wanting to avoid him, i turned my wheel slightly but the tarmac was so slippery i skidded too.

as i fell, i somehow unclipped both legs and saw my bike slidding about two meters in front of me. this was what was going through my head:
"shit, guy slipped"
"shit, roads slippery"
"ouch..."
"NOOOOOOOoooooOOOOOOOoooooo! diva's sliding on the road!"
"no-no-no... the paint....the frame... noooooooo....."

my heart cringed at the sight of the diva sliding... it felt endless and painful. i got up, picked the diva up and checked her on both sides.

at this point i still had the mantra "love your bike, love yourself more" and i had absolutely no idea how much of a bike nazi i've become until this conversation with arif as he rushed beside me:
"are you ok"
"ok... bike's ok"
"are you ok?
"my bike's ok"
"forget the bike! i don't care about the bike! are you ok?"
"o... errr, yea... am ok...."

achtung!

Race Bunnies

2007-07-04T01:37:00.000-07:00

Race bunnies: the ultimate race motivators

how many of us can honestly say that we've never had this thought in our minds when we first scan our competitors on race morning?:

"ah! if he can do it, i'm sure i can"

or more brutally,
"i think i'll finish before he does"

it's really demeaning/condescending to hear our thoughts out loud but none of us really had malicious intentions when we had these thoughts. besides, if there's one thing i learnt during races is that looks can really be deceiving.

so, even though it's a 50-50 chance that our thoughts may be wrong, we still do it on race morning.

why do you think that is?

some say: healthy competition
others say: checking out your competitors build your expectations for the race
i say: picking a race bunny is one of the funnest things to do race morning

my first race bunny, and for most races that she participated after that, is karen sia.

sweet, 21 year-old and an absolute gazelle in love (read post on best athlete if you're lost about the gazelle)

i first spotted karen at the a'famosa sprint last year. being a newbie, i was scanning the scene and feeling really inadequate because everybody looked very intimidating. then i saw irregular swim strokes in the midst of people warming up in the lake.

"a-ha! a struggling swimmer!"

* i must apologise before i continue (especially to karen if she finds her way to my blog). the thought had no ill intent and being a swimmer skewed TRYathlete, a weaker swimmer is a 'joy' (read: comforting) to spot on race morning of your very first tri every.

i looked at arif and smiled: "i just found me a race bunny"

and what a motivator she was! kept tell myself "keep close to the race bunny, finishing before she does is a bonus"

i finished slightly ahead of karen that day and it was a true bonus.
(but! i must say, she has improved tremendously over the year. combine that with her natural running talent, she has kicked my ass at races countless times. you go girl!)

If you haven't officially picked a race bunny before and would like to give it a go, this is how you can start:
1. separate the fluffies from the furies
There is a difference between race bunnies and head on competitors. choosing a race bunny is like choosing your single focus goal during races, it is meant to motivate and elevate personal glory if you cross the line before they do. they are not meant to add stress to your race, that's the job of the head on competitor.

the head on competitor is usually someone on par or stronger. he's someone you will constantly have in mind during training and you find yourself checking their recorded timings to see how much more you will need to train to beat them in races.

in a nutshell:
head on competitor: you know their performance level and where you stand with them. to improve, you train hard to either match or exceed their performance.
race bunny: someone whose performance you're not sure of. on first impression, they look weaker or on par. normally somebody you have not met, so beating or losing to them at races would be an unexpected outcome.

2. save it for raceday
you should only pick a race bunny on race morning itself. having somebody in mind during training doesn't count as a race bunny. it has to be on raceday because you'll sometimes see new faces that you'll like to pick and/or sometimes realise that you're not ready to take on your predetermined race bunny and would like to switch to a less intimidating bunny.

3. be personal about your bunny
the great part about race bunnies is they often do not realise you're trying to beat them. so, they are in absolute ease with you throughout the race. choose a bunny that matches your condition on raceday. if you're feeling pumped, choose a challenging one. if you feel like crap, choose a meeker bunny.

4. death by bunny
i can't emphasise enough that a race bunny is there to motivate you, not stress you during races. as such, don't kill yourself trying to keep up or beat your bunny.

so:
it's a good day, push hard to beat your bunny.
it's a bad day, you decide that it's a matter of surviving the race more than anything else and your bunny's just pulling away from you, relax and choose another bunny that is still on course

i've switched race bunnies regularly over the past year, sometimes i even have two or three rotative ones during the entire race course. it's strange though, as much as i have switched bunnies, it's always a thrill to see karen at races.

kinda like, you'll never forget your first race bunny thingy.

Racy outfits

2007-06-28T21:15:00.001-07:00

One of the things that kept me excited about doing races is the stuff you can buy in preparation of race day.

this is also one of the reasons i able to max out both my cards and grew a healthy iou account at my local bike shop, all within six months of picking up the hobby!

after almost a decade of not being active in sports, i was honestly quite reluctant to pick up cycling in late 2005 when arif invited me to, mainly because i cycled in my teens and developed ugly calves that took me years to dissolve (i was later educated on the beauty of spinning rather than hammering, a topic i'll reserve for later posts). i also did not like the fact that it was such a masculine sport, especially the bike frames.

i had since, also, threw away all my plain but reliable (read as full coverage) one piece swimsuits used during schooldays competition and graduated to pretty two pieces in various colours and provocative cuts that complement my full figure. i had and did nothing for running... as i started cycling before being introduced to triathlons, i agreed to try it out on one condition: that there was a possibility of looking pretty. I asked this question to my mentor shen and she replied "er... very limited but can be done" and that was good enough for me.

two days later, mentor shen and guru richard took me to their local bike shop and found a value for money, secondhand giant tcr bike. i preferred it to a brand new scott because it had higher end ultegras (9-speed), good open pros and a good sized handlebar.

can't say i was excited about the colour scheme though...

it was black, had the giant sticker in bright yellow, with solid blue and red streaks around the logo. the wheels were blue and the saddle was yellow (very much like a block of cheese!) with black bartapes.

i bought a pair of black cycling shorts, took the bike and went home thinking "what have i done?"

my first group ride was at putrajaya. shen had invited some of her triathlete friends and arif came along with richard and some of richard's loyal cycling buddies. it was a good mix of girls and boys. since i was the slowest, i had a clear view of their backs during the ride and boy! was i depressed... i couldn't tell their genders apart from their bikes or outfits. girls rode hard on masculine bikes, wore solid colours and if not for their small waist and bigger butt, they looked like guys from the back. and then i saw it...

one of the girls had a pink helmet on..

it wasn't the best pink i've seen: kinda too dark to be girly, too pink to be womanly. but hey! i knew she was a girl from afar.

over the next few months i started scouting bike shops for items that would match my masculine bike, trying very hard to create an aura of femininity. shortly after, triathlons came into my life and made things slightly more complicated as now i had to manage attire for three disciplines.

after three agonising months of trying to retro fit my style into my new found passion, i made the biggest mistake of trying too hard to make every colour match. the last straw came when i changed my bartapes to match the red stickers on the frame. happy to have found the exact red bartapes i stepped back to have a look when it was done...

omigod....
frame: black with giant sticker in yellow, and strips of blue and red
wheels: blue (with matching blue tires)
saddle: yellow
handlebar: red

i have never been so depressed in my life! this was the kind of colour combo that would make many, including myself, wish they were blind!

i went on full battle station mode: i have become a fashion victim.

that weekend, i told arif that i am going to repaint my frame before i end up being the 'elton john' of the cycling group: borderline flamboyant cum just eccentric taste. the sweetie that he is found a pretty frame design on the projectone website (custom paint designs for treks).

a month later the cow bike was born...

the cow bike was a revolution to my sports apparels and peripherals. it was predominantly white, with black spots and a cute little pink udder at the crank area which i matched with a pastel pink saddle and bartapes.

from then on, everything i bought was either white, black or most preferred... pink. it's been a year since, and even though with my latest (pink, no less) carbon frame, i hold dear the lessons i've learnt along the way like:
1. choose your theme
sports may not be about how great you look, but it sure helps motivate you to be out there. you can chose a theme that best suits your personality, one that reflects your alter ego or even one that you would like to really stand out with.

i chose the latter.

i chose to challange the fact that girly girls do have a place in the male dominant sport. my pledge to ooze femininity in an area that even women tend to want to be masculine made me choose girly theme colours. carmen, a fellow triathlete and triathlon goddess by my standards, once commented "your whole setup is like you're acting in a movie. everything matches, everything pretty... as if you're not racing"

many who know me would be surprised today:
a) pink has never been my favourite colour!
b) i'm more feminine at races and club meets than i am outside of it!

2. select your race colours
race colours may sound shallow but it really plays an important role, especially for newbies. one main reason for me at least, is the number of photographers you meet along the race route. now let's be honest: you're a newbie, not very confident yet, and just wanting to have some fun. chances are you're a little slower than the pack, chances are the photographer's gonna take your picture, and chances are, he's gonna do it on the run course by which time you're starting to feel all sloppy and unattractive. so when this happens, wouldn't it be nice to feel like a celebrity in coordinated race colours running away from the paparazzi? plus! because photos are static and people can't tell how fast you're going by just looking at it, being captured in full race colour you appear like an experienced racer, automatically creating the perception that you are faster than you really were.

if you plan to try out triathlons, think ahead about your race colours. you can either opt to buy a bike that matches your theme, or if you're not too hot on the theme idea yet, match your race colours to your bike frame carefully (it is best to decide your race colours based on your bike frame because it's the largest item with you on raceday). chose no more than two colours. going back to my pre-painted frame days, i would have been best off with black and yellow race colours but that ain't too girly, if you know what i mean?

3. sunday clothes for sunday races
i find it hard to find pink things that match because i'm fussy to the point that it has to be the right shade of pink. and because that takes forever to comeby, i need to be careful not the wear them out during training and look shabby on raceday.

so, what i do is i have a set for training and a set for raceday. kinda like sunday clothes for church. it is important to train in your race gear occassionally so that you wear them in, but be careful not to wear them out too soon. these gears that match do not come cheap and isn't always available.

4. take your time
nothing hurts the wallet more than buying on impulse. if you haven't decided a theme or race colour, do not spend too much building your race wardrobe. unless of course you have no intention to practise points 1 - 3, which makes me wonder why you're still interested in today's post, then buy away as you see.

buy the neccesities but hold out on major purchases until you have found your race gear calling. i made the mistake of buying as i went and to be honest, i only use 20% - 30% of the items i bought now. i had been impatient and am literally paying greatly for it.

to emphasise this point, it took me an entire year to complete my girly pink look so there really isn't a rush. committing to the ideal raceday look is like getting into a long term relationship. it can be tiring and sometimes make you wonder if it's worth the trouble. it is, to me at least, as important as getting into a long term relationship with triathlons.

and trust me, triathlons is one partner you'll want a long term relationship with. a little patience, a little faith and a loads of nurturing and the outcome would be most rewarding.

i mean, how many of us can say that we are in a happy, long term relationship with someone who makes us prioritise our lives around them, then makes us voluntarily push ourselves beyond norm just for a day with them. and on that day we are tortured, humbled and tested. and when that day is over, we are so overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude to have met them that we ask for more..

Marshal arts

2007-06-25T06:48:00.000-07:00

Marshal arts: the true form of defence during races.

Being a constant late finisher at races i have, over the year, learnt the fine art of defending myself from being swept into the sweeper vehicle.

i have been officially approached by marshals or in some cases outriders to hop onto the sweeper van because i was still on the course after cut off, three times: the first during the 2006 kapas-marang swim, then during the 2007 ironman langkawi and the most recent penang bridge marathon.

before i share my secrets to marshal arts, i would first like to make it clear that marshalls have one very vital responsibility during races: keeping you safe.

these individuals are quite selfless if you think of it, because they actually volunteered to keep you safe (i have never met anyone who had introduced themselves with a namecard that read "Smith, race marshal", so yea... safe to say they volunteered for the job)

sometimes, in larger races, outriders are assigned to help keep participants safe especially when roadblocks are involved. these individuals have two vital responsibilities: keeping you safe, and making sure traffic goes back to normal when you're done.

so if they're there for a good reason, why the need to learn marshal arts?

my first encounter, as mentioned above, was during a 6.5k swim from kapas island to mainland marang. the official cut off was 3:30, by which the organisers had briefed the day before that a boat will come to assist those who are still on the course at that time. 3:30 came and went, and i had about 1km more to go. i was appraching the last visible bouy that marked every km and could see the shore. i wasn't alone though, think there were about 5 of us left. i was soon approached by a marshal on a jetski. our conversation was in bahasa but for the benefit of all readers, i'm going to translate it:

"time's up ma'am. please get onto the boat"
"..but...(gasp) i can see the shore" i said between gulps of water
"sorry, please get up"
"but... but... it's just there..." i tried my best puppy dog face
"time's up, we need you out of the water." realised puppy dog face doesn't work under goggles and swimcap
"please... i've come so far.." decided to be more desparate
"no. we're wrapping up and going home. if you continue, you're on your own"

going home??

that's right, marshals although selfless can sometimes be so tactless and insensitive. they also fail to see that the way they address you at a typically demoralising time, really makes you feel even more unworthy of being there in the first place. they also form threathening sentences and make you feel that if you do not do as they say then 'good luck' finishing.

while i have met some really nice and encourgaing marshals, this one deserved a 'marshal kick' in the face.

i turned behind and saw 3 swimmers getting onto the boat, the guy directly behind me was wondering if he should, after hearing the marshall's firm tone. so i asked:

"do you want to finish this swim?" he smiled and said yes.
i smiled and turned to the marshal:

"you can go home. he's going to finish the race with me and he'll take care of me" (hi-e-yah! take that sweet in your face!)

we finished last, wobbled to the finish line, got our finisher's medal and enjoyed a whole mineral water bottle together. later on the bus, others that were fished out of the water wished they had not given in and continued as they were so close to personal victory that they now felt that it was a wasted opportunity.

at ironman, langkawi, the marshals were more understanding. they approached us and told us about the cut off time but gave us a choice to hop onto the van or continue. we chose to continue and finished 40 mins later, tired senseless but happy.

penang bridge marathon however, was a totally different story.

the race story is the same: start strong, weak middle, wanted to die after 30k, so i won't dwell on that part.

the offical race cut off was 6hrs. at 6:00 i had two people ahead of me, maybe about 5 behind me before the final turnaround, and three who had passed the last turnaround (one of which was long lost TRY friend peter). at 6:15 an organiser on a motorcycle comes by and mumbled something about the road has been closed and rode off to inform the people in front. i thought it was rather strange seeing that people can get anywhere on foot, but saw the girl in front turning back towards me:

"the u-turn point in front has been closed" she said being very sad. but i told her that since i suspect we're on foot, road closures shouldn't be a problem. "so we continue?" she asked... "so we continue" i said.

at 6.20 an outrider comes. i'll share my conversation with subtitles this time, because this outrider was out right rude to begin with and defintely deserved some marshal arts whoopass:

"masa dah habis! masa dah habis! naik bas! naik bas!" (time's up! time's up! get on the bas! get on the bas!)
"o, tapi 2k lagi.. boleh la" (but there's only 2k left... please) i thought if i appeared humble he would pity me and give in.
"habis, accident siapa nak tanggung?" (if there's an accident, who's going to be responsible?) i was wrong...
"kawan ada di depan. kami jaga-jaga la.." (my friend is just in front, we'll be careful) fu-cha! shadowless slap across the face
"kau lari berapa laju pun, kau takkan dapat medal, takkan dapat cert. baik puan naik bas aje!" (no matter how fast you run now, there's not going to be a medal or cert for you. it's best you get on the bus) o, he is sooo asking for the hit of destiny
"eleh! medal and cert tu, i tak kisah! i nak habis" (i don't care about the medal and cert! i just want to finish) hwua-tah! karate chop on head and..
"baik encik jangan kacau!" (it's best you don't interfer!) hi-e-yah ta-tah! flying back kick, knuckle burn across the forehead and the final poking of his eyes with my fingers before fleeing across the barrier to join peter for the last 2k.

alas, the less experienced marshall arts students felt intimidated and got onto the bus. one of them was my dear friend ronald who had decided to christian his first race day with a full marathon. a truly brave fellow who could have had it realised if he had knew the art of marshal dodging.

this article is dedicated to him and many others alike. i hope the tips i am about to share will come in handy in future races:
1. know your marshal:
not all marshals/outriders are mean. when approached quickly assess what mood they are in. if they are intimidating, be prepared to have a thick face in answering back. if they are nice, be humble. they're just doing their job in ensuring your safety (plus they've had a stressful day babysitting hundreds of zoned out bodies without a word of thank you) and will probably understand your pleas to continue.

2. be honest about how you feel:
let's face it. it is after cut off and you didn't make it. it isn't called a race if you are allowed to take your own sweet time. but that's the functional part of the race. many marshals/outriders fail to see the emotional part: your personal promise to finish regardless of time. so many 'fights' with them are just a matter of them misunderstanding your need to continue. to them it's about the medal and cert to validate your existence. to you, it's nice to get the medal if not, it's a case of surviving the race and achieving what you previously thought was not possible. if you can get your message to them...softly or painfully through their eye sockets, you're mostly likely to achieve

3. know your rights:
yes, you have the right to finish the race regardless of whatever threat they give. at this point it is good to remember that you have managed to keep yourself safe for the many years before they met you on race day. by projecting yourself as confident enough to care for yourself for the remaining of the race, there is little that they can do to stop you. these conferentations are no more than black faces and harsh words. no marshal or outrider have the right to man-handle you onto the sweeper vehicle. if they show no signs of leaving without you, hand over your race number. by doing so you are officially off the race and whatever you do after that is no concern of theirs. stand your ground and make them see you are not going to give in just because they want to finish up and go home

finally, know when to quit:
while i've been raging about how we should be cowboys and finish no matter what, we should, as adults, practice common sense and never forget that safety comes first. as much as i have been stuborn about quitting, i have always ensured it was safe to continue without a marshal. most common deciding factors are things like whether there are others completing after cut off like me so i do not endanger myself as a lone lady out there when all has gone home, and if i do end up alone, do i know the race route enough to not get lost. if you are alone and unsure, or in the case of the ironman when it's really dark and you're still out there, do think twice... safety first: sulk and get on the van so that you'll live to kick that arrogant race course next time.

The swimmer, the biker and the pogo stick runner

2007-06-19T20:08:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder which is the best athlete at triathlons?

according to hearsay history, triathlons came about when a bunch of athletes, each an elite in their own discipline of swimming, cycling and running, were debating on who was the better athlete. as a result, they have decided to create a multi-sport that would challenge them at all three to see who came out best. Hence the birth of the glorious triathlons we love today.

THE SWIMMER
being a competitive swimmer (read as i’ve been in many swim competitions, but never won any) from a young age, i found triathlons a breeze to pick up. "hey, it's just a really loooong swim, then a fun bike ride, then a run which i can walk when i'm tired" i thought to myself when the idea poped into my head.

after a year plus racing, i realise my race patterns are always the same. i come out of the swim in the mid pack (on good days one of the early birds), on the bike i maintain my position with the occasional passing better swimmers/less efficient riders, and then suffer on the run.

always...

over time i developed a habit of counting the number of riders i pass on the opposite direction. this is only done when the bike leg is a loop or an out&back course (for loops, i start counting after the last turnaround point). i am always happy to know that i pass an average of 15 to 20 people each time. this is a shortlived happiness as i get dropped by 90-95% of these riders behind me on the run.

so, i finish the swim first-mid pack, the bike mid-lower mid pack depending on race terrain, and finish the run at the bottom 3. in fact! when the official times are uploaded, i often realise that the bottom 3 runners actually clocked faster run times than i did. my swim and bike were my saving grace.

take arif for example. his talent clearly lies in cycling, uphills at that. up until this year, he has never came out of the swim before me. our time difference range from 1 min to 20mins depending on swim course and distance. BUT! he has always finished well ahead of me, at least 30mins.

therefore, while i would say swimming is my strongest discipline, it's clearly not the talent that would make me finish strong. it is however, seen as the hardest discipline to master and the most daunting of the lot to pick up if one would like to attempt triathlons.

THE BIKER
the bike leg is always the longest distance. this distance over a certain terrain can determine you progress in the race.

personally, i'm very much a rolling terrain expert. i am able to hold solid average speeds that, while not the fastest still, enables me to pass less efficient riders. and i am able to do this over very long distances.

however, i suffer immensely on hilly terrains. kenyir is an excellent example of a hilly race terrain.

going back to arif, his talent for climbing hills never fails to baffle me. he always catches up with me on the bike regardless of terrain and will always pass me as if i was standing still and i will never see him again until i return to transition, by which time he is saying hello to me while running his first loop.

verdict: i'm good on the bike but it ain't gonna make me finish strong either

THE POGO STICK RUNNER
ah! what a special breed.

anyone out there with a weak run will know what it feels like to think we're running faster than we normally train only to have a stronger runner pass us effortlessly. there's a light spring in their steps, and nice long relaxed strides.. kinda look like a gezelle in love, prancing in a meadow full of daisies!

and then you realise (for me at least) "hey, you're the one i passed on the bike!"

yup. strong runners always have an advantage towards the end of the race.

since i lack experience in this area apart from how it feels when they pass you, i shall proceed to the conclusion paragraph and leave this section with only one thing left to say:

"i too, will be a gezelle in love one day..."

THE CONCLUSION
we all start triathlons with a base discipline. something that we have been doing years before. some of us are made swimmers, some graduate from the neighbourhood cycling hobby, some are natural runners.

and while we can master these very well on their own, it really is a delicate balancing act when you put them together.

the fastest swimmer is not guaranteed a winning position because he may lack biking or running talent. the strongest biker is not guaranteed either because there's still a run after the bike. and the gezelle in love may take forever on the swim and the bike before getting to that meadow, by which time, he is so far behind he can't catch up. so his plans on coming in first may be screwed too.

the person that is able to master all three probably doesn't exist. there is always a slight skew to a single discipline. however, a person who is able to master the balancing act of the three legs most efficiently, do. he's normally the one who is able to control his performance throughout and ensure highest efficiency in all three discipline. he's also normally the one finishing first.

so i think it's quite safe to say that for those of us who aren't him (YET!), we'll just have to settle for being the jack of all trades, master of none...

Benchside Barbie

2007-06-17T19:55:00.000-07:00

There are two types of spectators at any race. the supporters... and the benchside barbies.

supporters as we all know are there to do one thing: support.

benchside barbies on the other hand are there to look good, attract attention and of course...support. their support however is skewed to only one person: their current squeeze, their 'superstar' triathlete... their racing boyfriends.

i've been noticing benchside barbies since my first sprint at A'famosa last year. to me they are quite an item to watch before and after the race. and they always, always, stand out from the crowd of supporters.

their tidiness and well groomed appearences have won them my self-proclaimed christianing "benchside barbie".

benchside barbies are normally first timers to any race. this is apparent in their lack of experience for dressing comfortably for the entire duration of the event. well, to be fair they are fashionable and not overly dressed...just not practically dressed.

the first set of benchside barbies i ever saw wore hot pants, slinky tops, really nice accessories, fashionable sunglasses and little kitty heels (if you're wondering, kitty heels are very delicate heels, thin stems ranging from 2 -3 inches, optional versions of straps or slip ons. think lower heel version of the ultra sexy stilettoes). they were also well groomed: nice shiny hair, perfect make-up, smells fruity when they walked pass, with porcelain skin that looked like they were tortured by the shady afternoon sun.

and they normal are...

benchside barbies find it hard to last the entire race. the heat and sun normally wither them quickly, like delicate flowers left in the car boot for the afternoon.

in all fairness again, benchside barbies are a novelty. kinda like the w.a.gs of the football world. they look glamourous and the guys that bring them are always proud to show them off. it's the location and condition of race day that does not do them justice.

plus, as a fashion freak myself, i had in the past admired benchside barbies from a far. i found the perfect opportunity to mimic one at arif's powerman 2006. i had the make of a benchside barbie: hot WHITE tennis skirt, tiny tee, cute hat, camera, sunnies, earrings and necklace, even wore light perfume! but since i was aware of race conditions, being in them for almost a year by then, i just couldn't bring myself to wear kitty heels no matter how tempting the idea was. And it was an epic self battle to not put make-up. so i would say i succeed 80% in the benchside barbie criteria.

but o, how i suffered...

i was hot (tempreture, not looks), sticky, sweating like a pig and dying of hunger. and the race hadn't even started! 20mins into race i took off my earrings because it keeps getting snagged onto my tee when i wiped my temples with my sleeves. loss 15 points there as a seasoned benchside barbie would have blotted sweat with tissue rather than her sleeves! immediately bought tissue and started salvaging my points. 15mins later the necklace came off because it snagged the tissue i used to wipe my neck and after 5 tissues, it was begining to form paper rolls along the chain loops.

then it started to rain...

now i'm wet, sticky and hungry. I looked at my watch: only 2 hours into the race and i thought to myself (no offense) "cut off is 5:30 and chances are, arif's gonna make full use of that" so i decided to feed myself. i went to the nearby KFC and ordered a zinger burger, a box of chicken popcorn, f&n strawberry to go. loss another 20 points: 1. for failing to notice that it was still drizzling outside and 2. for failing to remember that hot tarmac becomes really steamy after a rain.

that's when i decided to screw the benchside barbie business. firstly, my dress code ain't complete. i have no finese to handle sweat drippings and i'm totally unable to carry a sweet smile when i'm feeling uncomfortable.

that's when things became so much better..

i sat on the dirty curb facing transition area and took some of the best shots of arif and friends as they zoomed pass. i stained my tee in the process of balancing a chilli sachet and eating the popcorn chicken, but all was good when my hunger went away. the drizzle lasted but after the long tarmac steam rising, it was finally cool. i was wet but the cool breeze made my skin more comfortable. i sucked on ice and then rolled it onto my arms, neck and legs. very unladylike to watch but i was no longer sticky. time flew faster when you cheer for more than just one guy. i was cheering for everybody and decided to join the normal supporters over dirty fence and met some frequent cyclists friends. In the fuss to be the best benchside barbie i had missed the real fun: hanging out with my friends in crappy weather cheering for those we care about and those who look like they really could use a loooooooong beer.

and then it hit me:

benchside barbies are fair weathered supporters. after going through just half a race as a benchside barbie, i finally understand why i've not seen any familiar looking benchside barbie at races: the heat is just too uncomfortable, we're so centered at looking good and looking out for just one guy it bores you senseless and it just isn't much fun.

benchside barbies normally last one race and never come back. a few "truly in love" ones will return but they come back wiser (dress wise) and they slowly morph into a genuine supporter.

but the cycle never ends.. you will always see a fresh faced benchside barbie at every race. looking as if she is a force to be reckoned with and she knows that all eyes are, in fact, on her because she really stands out in the crowd of casually dressed supporters.

but you've got to wonder what the peopple are thinking. is it really "wow, she looks good" or "man, wait till the sun comes out!"

my bet as an 'experienced' benchside barbie watcher is "wow, she's hot but those heels and that mascara is gonna be in trouble 20mins into race..."

"That girl on the pink Diva"

2007-06-14T18:28:00.000-07:00

When i first started cycling it was so hard to remember everybody's name.

To be honest, i only started really remembering them after a month..sometimes longer! In the cycling world, a month normally means at least 4 weekend rides + 4 mamak sessions + 1 flat (when you're a girl, a flat causes at least 3 riders to stop and help you fix it). And yet after so many opportunities to interact, i still do not remember their names.

Embarassed, i tried to pay closer attention during mamak sessions. prying my ears wider hoping to catch somebody's name. you know, when someone says "rahim you were strong today" you quickly scan to see who smiled (normally only one guy would be smiling the widest followed by a humble "no la..."). paying more attention during these mamak sessions made me realise something: riders only remember names of the "frequent flyers' club". If you're new or isn't very consistent in joining the group rides, your name isn't remembered very well either!

"Holy-Moly! i ain't alone!" i thought with a huge relief.

but work to be one of the guys does not stop there. In order to join the conversation or even attempt to understand what/whom they are referring to, i had to remember unfamiliar faces the way all cyclists do: by their bikes.

eureka!

from then on, groupride conversations were a breeze. i was able to contribute to conversations and was playing the game hard. throwing pro sentences like "fwah.. that guy may be riding an old beat-up mountie but he sure can fly" and everyone would know what i was talking about.

i was one of the guys. may not have cycled the cycle, but i definitely talked the talk. somedays, i'm even better than the guys when i control 'example conversations' like below:
senn: "good ride, pity richard had a flat.."
group: "who?"
senn: "richard. the guy on the black orbea"
group: "o yea.... wow he flew uphill and bla...bla..bla..."

yup. i was a conversation starter! and smiled in victory as the sound of others chatting about richard fades in the background.

so for all you newbies or non-members of the frequent flyers' club, here're some tips on how to SOUND like a season rider during mamak sessions:
1. forget trying to remember everybody's name.
they won't remember yours for at least the next 3 rides anyway, UNLESS you either creamed everybody's ass... or had a huge mishap. plus, once a member of the club, names come naturally..

2. start remembering bike makers.
there are only a handful of reputable bike makers that season riders like: speacialise, scott, trek, giant, orbea, colnago. these are the more popular ones. best way to handle this is to buy bike magazines just to note how the logos look like on the bike. It's classier to ask "what's the name of that guy on the scott?" rather than "that guy...erm... big hair, very tall...wears specs.."

3. remember jerseys
if technical stuff like bike origin is too much for you to cramp in before your next bike ride, remember what the cyclist is wearing. most cyclists either wear their favourite team jersey (discovery channel, CSC, etc) , or a really funky one that you just can't forget. Don't rely on helmets, shoes, or other apparels like shorts or gloves. helmets and shoes are not at the normal eye level of other cyclists while riding so it's a blind spot. Shorts are normally black or matching with the jersey, so it's more polite to appear that you remembered his jersey rather than his shorts! gloves are just too small to count..

4. pick out the ride leader
if all is lost and the ride was so hard everything is a blur, just ask anybody who the ride leader was at the end of the ride. once identified, go up to him (usually a him cause the girls just have fun on rides), introduce yourself and exchange numbers saying you're interested in future rides. by doing so, you automatically have one name that your phone will remember for you and your name is placed on his list. being on the list means he will be able to say your name when other riders, more likely than not, mentioned about you using your bike as an ID.

with these simple tips to follow, you would be able to enjoy your future group rides without worrying about feeling embarassed or left out.

ride safe!
- the girl on the pink diva.

TRIathletes vs. TRYathletes

2007-06-12T23:29:00.000-07:00

There is a reason why i've named my blog "beyond cut off".

Although the reason is very apparent to most that know me, there are still a few who actually say "wow! cool name... it is because you go BEYOND the cut off? like an extra mile after finishing?"

erm.... not exactly.

for the record, beyond cut off clearly means i always finish beyond the cut off TIME. Not once have i every met any official cut off time.

Now, i suspect there would be a few people who would gasp out loud after reading the above point. Some may even ask "why bother then?" (if you're new to my blog, and found yourself asking this question, welcome on board! and please read my first posting...)

However, if you find yourself nodding, actually understanding what it's like to finish after cut off no matter how 'hard' you train AND actually relating to me, you are very much on the same page as i am.

ta-daaaah! the clear difference between TRIathletes and TRYathletes.

If i went a little too fast there, let me explain:
To me, there are basically two types of people in triathlons. The TRIathletes and the TRYathletes. There have been many verbal, unproven theories of what these two really mean. some say if you are not an elite racer you, chances are, are a TRYathlete. or if you're a newbie and ain't fast enough to meet cut off, you are a TRYathlete. and my very own perception that if you're in it purely for fun in the sun, you are a TRYathlete (fun in the sun itself has many differing perception, but i'll leave that for my next posting)

i personally see myself as a TRYathlete.

to avoid being corrected about what it means to be a TRIathlete (obviously since I've placed myself in the opposing basket), i would like to list out what i perceive as NOT being a TRYathlete:
1. You are not a TRYathlete if you are a newbie.
Being a newbie simply means that you have the choice and power to improve yourself and become a TRIathlete in whatever time frame you set for yourself.

2. You are not a TRYathlete if you are an underdog at triathlons.
Ok, so you haven't clocked the best of times. Some races you beat your personal record only to slump 20mins on your very next attempt. This scenario doesn't make you a TRYathlete... it just wasn't your best race

3. You are not a TRYathlete if you push yourself to train hard and feel extremely disappointed that your training didn't pay off.
You clock average logs of 2k swims, 80k bike and 24k runs (sometimes more) per week. But you see no progress in race times or fluctuating success during races. This is more like you need to reevaluate your training schedule and see what you're doing inefficiently.

4. You are not a TRYathlete if your race time seems to boarder around 3:10 to 3:30, with occasional marginal improvement.
So you're not the fastest bunny on the field, doesn't make you any less a TRIathlete than the other greyhounds you see lapping you. Being a TRYathlete is a mental state and is not determined by what speeds your little feet can carry you.

By now you should notice that it isn't THAT easy to be a TRYathlete. If you've had bad races and/or you've had inconsistent improvements you're not one because being a TRYathlete is not measured by your physical abilities. Like i said... it's a mental state.

It's a mental state because if you are determined to continuosly improve your race time, you automatically place yourself as an underdog and potentially become a great TRIathlete, hence out of the TRYathlete basket.

And as an underdog, you should never feel like a lesser mortal beside the triathlon gods because they were not born that way. and as far as i have learnt in life... anything man-made can be replicated, it's just a matter of how closely you copy the original.

To me, it's a mental state because "TRYathletism" syndrome (if there's every such a word) does not choose you, YOU have to choose to be a TRYathlete.

You choose whether to have pure fun or sweet victory
You choose whether to bonk yourself senseless or dress up for the occasion (hey, if you ain't planning to go fast, you might as well look good doing it)
You choose whether to get your money's worth or consider race day a short getaway with no signs of ROI
You choose whether you want to be admired or teased endearingly

Don't get me wrong.. TRYathletes are not the slumps of triathlons. A talented TRYathlete can, and probably will, kick ass during races. We're merely people of a different mindset. Kinda like the mirror spectrum of the elites. If i were to draft it out, you'll probably have minorities at each end. Say for example, 10% elites, 80% underdogs, 10% TRYathletes.

I've chosen to be part of the TRYathlete minority.

How about you?

Why bother?

2007-06-07T20:35:00.000-07:00

One of my new found passions in life is triathlons.

i started about a year ago and while my heart beats strongly still for each race, my performance have not improved even marginally and i would be bragging if i said i have maintained speeds like last year. In fact, i have become slower, more sluggish, and unable to maintain a rythmic training pattern which begs the question...

...why bother?

like answering all questions in my life, i always approached it systematically and in a rational order. this means that a base needs to be set up in order to argue the many angles of the question. The base here would naturally be where do i stand in the world of triathlons to begin with?

Ever since i started triathlons, i have received a spectrum of response from people around me ranging from 'high up' compliments, encouragement and advice to the 'down right' sarcasm about my performance.

The following are my all time favourite comments so far:
1. "Baby, you run like a duck... with cellophine tape stuck to the bottom of your feet" - my beloved Arif, after seeing me run 6 months into training.
2. "May Senn! Where did you stop for lunch?" - my fellow triathlete Haimi, when i spent close to 5 hours to complete the 30k Great Eastern run early this year.
3. "Babe! RUN!!" - My mentor Shen, well... at almost every race when she laps me on the run leg.
4. "SHUT UP! Forget the medal, just finish the race" - another fellow triathlete Shiraz, 11:55 pm, when i had tears welling at the last 8k run of Ironman Langkawi 2007.
5. "It's the fire come down..."(sang to the tune of Final Countdown) my cycling guru Richard, when he saw me struggling uphill
6. "Just wanted to know if you wanted some ORS?" fellow triathlete and colleague Karoline, this one's more for the fact that i had thought i was riping tarmac when i noticed she had merely brisked walk to be at my speed to ask that question.

So let's see:
1. it's been a year with no progress
2. my performance base is so low it's a wonder how it actually got lower this year
3. it's obvious that i'm not the star performer in my team.. more like the mascot trying out in the big league
4. i get yelled at, teased, and labelled an animal that is genetically challanged when it comes to moving on land (AND handicapped by cellophine tape!)

So why bother indeed...

This is why:
1. i get no greater personal satisfaction than knowing i had pushed myself mentally and physically, so hard sometimes that i literally cry while still racing, only to come out of it stronger, more tolerant and disciplined.
2. race gear is really cool when you know how to mix and match!
3. It feels good when a newbie asks if you've done this before and you said 'yes' with a smile and there's a slight twinkle of admiration in their eye before race starts. The trick here is to maintain that twinkle in their eye...usually by ensuring you finish before they do. Something i aspire to do eventually.
4. ...

actually...

I had a whole list of reasons in my head on why i still bother when i started this blog, and i rushed to come to this part fearing that i would forget what they were. but now that i've arrived here, i think i'll sum it up in only ONE main reason: i made true friends.

Friends who do not judge you by your profession, or is superficial just because they think you can be useful to them. Sure, there's always the poke and hints about poor performance but these are friends who respect you as an individual and genuinely care for you. A unique set that, while they are very loyal to you by hanging out only within the circle during race trips, have very little emphathy when they drop you during the swim, bike or run. Friends who are so zoned out during the race they sometimes pass you without saying 'hi', but they cheer you on with big smiles and loud claps at the finish line when they have completed. They are selfish to improve their personal timings but are willing to wait for you under the hot sun or in the middle of the night when everybody has gone home (including the organisers!). No matter how long you take, they will wait for you and they will cheer and congratulate you when you cross the line.

Yup. True friends make it all worth while and the best part is... i never have to worry about forgetting this in my head, because it's already seated nicely in my heart...