Man, that felt so good. Only a short one because of time constraints (the husband has to for work drinks and I have dinner with my family and then drinks with boarding school friend Ellie at the Tanglin Club) but it felt amazing nevertheless. Andrew took me to Mt Faber for a climb and then we looped it on back. The climb at Faber was alright. He decided to whip the camera out and get pictures of me hauling (my fat) bum up the hill. Maintained an alright speed of 32km/hr for most of the ride and felt really joyous that I'd upped my usual pace of 30km/hr, until the husband decides to point out that I was actually drafting him a lot of the way. Boo. Oh well, hey ho. So on the way back, we were climbing this hill and my speed was dropping as expected, but I decided to speed up and push the limit. Managed to hit 30km/hr uphill and sustain it, and then up the speed on the flat to about 35km/hr all the way back home. Hubba said he was surprised that he actually had to downshift to keep up.

What? What? What!?! My husband downshifting to keep up with meee?

WAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooo...!!!!!


slogging up mt faber


this is the only one where i managed a smile


ouch already

Exercise can do wonders for the soul.

Seriously, I remember being a lot crabbier than I am these days. Was reminded of that today when I got all crankypants in the morning. Lucky it didn't really last through the day - The visit from Mr Chairman and the good meeting during lunch time was cause enough to lighten up. But still, something was niggling at me from somewhere in the deep recesses of my soul.

So when work was done, I hauled my blister-causing trainers off the gym, determined to get my running legs working before the race this weekend. Did a light tempo run to loosen up the legs and felt really good throughout the run. Got a bit bored somewhere in the middle but saw this really pretty girl on a treadmill nearby and the speed she was doing inspired me to suck it up and be more constructive with the training session. As per normal, I've got two new bubbles on the insides of my feet, but heck - no pain, no gain, right?

And tada! I'm now feeling a lot perkier, which brings me to my question. Does lethargy come on with inactivity? If it does, I'd better get crackin' coz I hate feeling that way.

Tempo: 7km
Time: 40mins
Speed: 9.3km/hr (30mins) / 10km/hr (9mins) / 11.5km/hr (1min)
Avg Hrt: 188
Energy: 350kcal

Orchard Road is surprisingly busy at 5am in the morning. Cabs still line the street outside Orchard Towers (shudder) and stragglers snog on the streets in the still of the night/morning.... On a separate note, it was nice and cold this morning when the husband and I set off for our ride. Max bailed due to bad sinus trouble, which I was partially relieved about as I knew the pace would be a little more forgiving.

My cycling legs are non-existent. It's been awhile since I got on my bike - Andrew has not let me forget this - and I knew I was going to feel weak. Felt pretty alright for a bit, but somewhere in Kallang, I knew today's ride had to be short. I wasn't panting at all but I felt like I had no power. My legs were wussing out big time. So rather than continue through, I asked if we could turn back and make the ride a beginner's one for today. 'Okay, sure,' said the husband. Wow, that was easy. He'd usually give me much more grief, I thought. So we did a U-ey and headed back. I figured this was going to be an easy ride after all. So I picked up speed and headed west.

But when Hubba turned into South Buona Vista Road, I knew I was in for more work.

J: I know what you're doing.
A: What?
J: You're taking me climbing.
A: You'd better get into gear then.

South Buona Vista Road is a long and windy climb. It doesn't kill your legs, but you can forget about counting the corners you pass, coz you'll just get frustrated. So I kept going and decided not to feel my legs till we reached the mouth of the road, and when we finally did, I was pretty pleased with myself. But that wasn't enough for my morbid husband. It was still early, he said, so we turned left into NUS and did more. The climbs were tougher there. I was definitely panting now.

A: Okay, darling. Let's turn back.
J: Why?
A: Coz if we keep going that way, we'll have to climb some more.
J: Climb lah.
A: Haha! I like that attitude! Ok, let's go!

Andrew wore a grin all the way home. We were in Clementi when he detoured and turned into another road with a hill on the way back - Cheeky bugger.

... So ends my tale of my naughty husband and my ride this morning.

The first day back is always the hardest.

I've been telling myself this for the longest time, but everytime I face the first day back, I'm always telling myself not to believe it. Am I making any sense? I guess it's coz I try hard to think that my body will do what it's told. But I'm constantly proving myself wrong.

Been sitting on my jack for two weeks since the half marathon came and went. My left knee was threatening to give way, so much so that a walk through Ikea one weekend turned into a bad limp. So on some professional advice, given of course by the warriors themselves, I decided to give my body an absolutely thorough rest. No exercise whatsoever for two weeks. My rest turned into fat fest, with my man-appetite taking on a life of its own and the devilish side of my conscience convincing me it was alright to (keep) indulge(ing). I gave myself excuses not to break back into training of any sort. But I found myself getting more and more lame. Who on earth forgets a cossie when she intends to go do laps? What is all this sit-ups on the mat only stuff? Lame. Lame. Truth be told, I was getting increasingly angrier at myself as each day went by. And by this week, frustration had turned into just generally feeling down and out. Stoooooppid. That was my middle name.

So my resolve to sort it out today got to me. I hit the tarmac even though the sun was already blazing outside (arg, tanlines) and gave my body specific instructions to do a short run and not complain. But obviously it refused to comply. Raar. Once I hit the hills, my chest was heaving and my body was folding its arms and going, 'Nope. Don't wanna. Nope. Uh uh.' Ran a half marathon? Are you friggin' sure? No way did I do that. I can't even make it up this hill, I thought. I felt so incredibly disappointed with myself when I started walking and coughing. Wimp.

On my way (walk) back, I had a good one-on-one with myself. Full triathlon. Are you sure you're going to be able to do it? You can't leave training till the last minute anymore. You ain't gonna luck out this time. This is serious now. You wanna try and die, or you wanna command and conquer? The choice is mine. This whole thing is turning out to be a whole battle with my own mind. You could go crazy talking to yourself this much. It is such irony indeed that - with all this mad busy stuff going on my life - this it is what probably keeps me sane.

So I've made up my mind. Yes, I'm taking on the challenge... Again. But this time, it's for real. No more Mister Nice Guy. No more wussing up a tiny hill. No more nonsense about forgetting my cossie.

Let's whoop some ass.

Below is the reason why I'm always getting flak for having bad tanlines....


oops!

Only a few months to go... Eep!

I have the best parents in the world.

One hydration salt pack, two powergels, and a hugeass run later, Hobbley Hubba and I were treated to a whopping Western buffet - bring on the pasta, please - and a massage with a glass of honey water. Am feeling pretty refreshed now, albeit bruised and battered. Toenails are threatening to jump ship and I keep finding new abrasions that sting. No doubt about it, today was really tough for me and Andrew.

We were up at 4am and I have to say I don't think we started the day off that well. We forced our food down just because we knew we had to, not coz we were hungry. Parking was a bitch and then it was the whole panic of not being able to find my Dad, who was also running the half marathon this morning. Apologies to Andrea for being curt for I was really flustered that I couldn't say 'good luck' to my Dad before the race! At least we managed to say it to each other though :) Anyway, thank goodness I managed to run into Yuling where we said we'd meet, and we set off together with her friend Ram.

We were only about 8mins away from the start line when we saw the lead marathon runners pegging up the road towards us, going at breakneck speed. It was so exciting watching them go by and all the whooping and cheering really gave me a buzz. So I picked up the pace slightly. Kept right to see other marathoners go by: Cheered the pokerface Ironman Nickeroos on. Saw Hubba go by as well and he gave me a high five as he passed.

We meant to run the race together, coz truth be told, 21.1km is a reallyyyy longggg way. But I lost Yuling somewhere around the 4km mark and figured it was going to be a lonely, lonely race. Ram came up from behind me somewhere around the 8km mark. We chatted for a bit and he suggested we not chat anymore - Boo. I could have done with the company. Oh well, we reached a waterstand and I lost him after that.

Think I pretty much sustained a good pace throughout the first half of the race coz I clocked an hour for the first 10km. Broke out the ickleyshuffley only at this point and when I put it on, Hella Good gave me a good mental boost. I let loose some aggression and kept going. Managed to catch Pei Fen in action as she passed and I think I saw Debra walking along with her 3 friends. But didn't know whether to call out to her as she was mid conversation... And I was mid pant. Hehe.

Actually, I must say that my lungs didn't feel tired for one second during the race. My breath was steady and I felt like I could have gone on further. But my li'l legs tired after 1.5hrs and I broke into a walk. I think I walked for about 30minutes after that. Everytime I tried to run, my back just felt like it'd been done in and my knees were aching something chronic. I figured I'd walk for a bit to recover.

The last stretch out to Nichol Highway and back was brutal on the willpower. Was mid walk out when I bumped into Ram on his way back and realized I'd fallen way behind. Also got caught walking by Nick F and felt a little embarassed. But I told myself to turn the corner before making the attempt to screw my knees altogether.

Once I turned the last corner, it was homestretch all the way. I saw Raffles City in the distance and imagined the Padang and the finish line right beside it. Broke out into a run and didn't let up. To be honest, by this point I felt like I was on drugs. I couldn't feel my arse or my legs or my arms. I literally felt like I was flying back to the finish line - I guess I was high by the thought that I was almost done. Dad saw me heading back and I cheered him on. He later said I looked like I was running all over the shop. I guess I really couldn't feel my legs.

When I turned the corner and saw the finish line, I broke into a sprint. Well, I'm sure it wasn't much of a sprint seeing as how I was so knackered. But I gave it my all anyway and crossed the line with a sense of disbelief. It's over? Hmm. I've waited all year for that? I can't believe it's over. It was definitely a tough race mentally. Pure, droning, constant torture. I'm not sure what my exact time was, but when I stopped my stopwatch after having a drink, it was 2hrs34mins. Let's hope it was less than that. Didn't hit my target, but close enough I guess. Ran into Dex as well and he didn't look too happy.

As for my Hobbley Hubba, he finished his 42.195km in 4hrs40mins - way off his target. My poor husband was absolutely ruined at the end of his race. He said he'd never suffered so much in his life and he'd never felt that way before. I'm sure it's something he might want to write about himself, so I shan't go into it too much here.

But if you see us hobbling along hand-in-hand, you know why.