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.
*************************************************
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
ironMAN
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...
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...
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
"Did you cycle here?"
... 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..."
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
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..
grandma: who is she?
senn: hinn-chai's (dad's nick) daughter
grandma: oooooo...
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..."
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Seren-TRI-dipity
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Chronicles of the DIVA
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!
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!
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Crash Course Dummies Finale: When in rome..
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...
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...
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Crash Course Dummies Part 4: Falling in love with a gazelle
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?
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...
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...
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