Because I say so...

The Power of Sworn Denials

2012-01-12T18:50:00.018+08:00

I had a narrow escape from a nasty accident while out cycling last Saturday morning. In fact, I dare say I might have even cheated death that morning. I supposed it's one of those perils of cycling on the highway. It was quite an experience, really; one which resulted in a sudden surge of adrenaline and chilling sensation down my spine.

Then later that morning, we found ourselves in a coffee shop for a drink. The fellowship was a lot of fun; and at the end of it, I paid for everybody. A couple of my friends teased me, jokingly asking me if it's my birthday. The truth was that it's my small way of paying forward. If there's God, He has been kind by protecting me on the highway. And I reckoned that it's my small way of saying "thank you" to Him by showing a little act of kindness to others in return.

Just about 2 weeks prior to that, I was running with some friends, and we got to talk about religions. I told them about the time when I went to church for a few months many years ago, and tried to blend in with the congregation. It was a strange experience—I was there to listen to the sermons, and I was hoping to find God. But I ended up feeling like a total idiot. When people started singing, I sang a little, but for the most part, I did not. When people stood up, I did not stand with them. Neither did I kneel down when it was time to do that. Nobody actually said anything unkind to me, but you should have seen their piercing stares—it's a kind of stare of disgust, one that made me feel so small!

Not many people can understand my position as far as God is concerned. You see, I believe in God; but not the one mentioned in religions. To me, God of the religions is a very conceited being. He yearns to be loved and worshiped by us all; He claims to give us free will, but actually not really. He knows absolutely everything. Yet He put the two idiots to the test in the Garden of Eden, knowing all the time that they'd fail miserably. He had to know what the outcome of that test would be, because He knew everything, you see. He claims to love us all, yet He is liable to lose his temper and go on a killing rampage on a grand scale!

My friend gave me quite a good lecture during that run. One of the things he said to me which remains stuck in my mind up to now, was that I should have a relationship with God. Well, as a matter of fact, I do have a relationship with God. But my God is not the God of the religions.

Most people would claim that they, too, have a relationship with their respective Gods. They dress according to the requirements of their religions; they pray in a specific way, or in a specific venue, and perhaps even in a specific direction too. On the surface they try very hard to behave every bit like what's required of their religions.

But the truth is that nobody is able to see the decays underneath the surface. Bigshots of the church have been known to have sexually abused young children. Women who are covered from head to toe getting pregnant out of wedlock; and they are quite capable of killing their own children to prevent others from knowing their dirty little secret. And when there is a need, they would readily swear on their holy book to deny their wrongdoing, knowing fully well that they're guilty as hell of the crime they're accused of.

This reminds me of a man I knew many years ago, who cheated on his wife. He said he'd admit to me that he fooled around with women. But nothing would make him admit such a thing to his wife; and he'd willingly swear on the holy book if he must!

No—I must beg to differ from Dr Mahathir's suggestion that "it is better for Muslim politicians to "swear properly" to fend off allegations instead of clogging up the courts with frivolous lawsuits." I don't care how proper is proper; it can never be good enough! I pray to God that nobody would heed such an idiotic solution to "unclog" the courts in Malaysia!

Problem, Solution & Not-So-Good Remedy

2012-01-09T21:58:00.007+08:00

A recent seminar in Kota Kinabalu on Women's Health emphasised the pressing need to promote the use of contraception. The seminar was jointly organised by the Sabah Women's Advisory Council Health Committee and the State Health Department. It is reported that the National Population and Family Development Board would review the National Family Planning Policy, especially the suitability of providing contraceptives to sexually active young persons who are unmarried.

One of the speakers of the seminar, a friend of mine, Dr Helen Lasimbang, stressed on the importance of contraception for prevention of unwanted pregnancies which have caused a lot of social ills such as baby dumping. She went on to elaborate available options of contraceptives.

Yesterday (Sunday), in the opinions column of The Daily Express, a reader opined that "Doc should not encourage contraceptive use among young". Instead, she—I'm assuming a she—suggested that "What the doctor should have stressed, instead of contraceptives, was perhaps instilling into the girls the importance of self respect and loving themselves. They should be taught cultural and religious values that sex is forbidden before marriage."

There are many people in this world who simply refuse to believe that we, humans, are imperfect creatures in many ways. I hate to break it to them, but sometimes teaching cultural and religious values just won't cut it. We fall victims to temptations—the mind is willing, but the flesh is weak, you see.

Some of us can't resist alcohol. Others can't resist food and cigarettes. Others still can't resist facebook and greed for money; and yes, some of us can't resist sex. It's just the way we are; we have many, many weaknesses. That has always been the problem with mankind.

I think it is a romantic idea to expect young people who are quite often victims of raging hormones to refrain from indulging in sex, simply by teaching them cultural and religious values that sex is forbidden before marriage.

When people are addicted to food, no amount of education or warning of illnesses or even dreadful diseases such as diabetes and heart attacks would make them stop eating. Far from it. And even if one succeeds in scaring them off with all these bad consequences due to overeating, it would still be an uphill task to make them stop. Most of them would continue to overeat, until perhaps when they are diagnosed with clogged arteries and their lives are hanging merely by a thread. Then maybe—just maybe—they might stop, though I seriously doubt it. At least not for very long.

Sometimes, when the ideal solution can't help to solve the problem, we have no choice but to fall back on the not-so-good remedy. If, for example, no amount of advice can make me reduce the consumption of high-cholesterol food, thus resulting in elevated cholesterol level in my body, then perhaps the doctor owes the duty to at least fall back on whatever available drugs that can help in controlling or reducing the amount of cholesterol in my body. But by informing me of the availability of cholesterol-lowering drugs, that doesn't mean that the doctor is encouraging me to overeat.

Dr Helen Lasimbang is a gynaecologist, speaking in her capacity as a gynaecologist, and sharing her knowledge on methods of contraception. If we can't stop people from having sex (and I think for the most part we can't) in spite of the teaching of cultural and religious values, then we should at least protect them from unwanted pregnancies in the hope of solving the problem of baby dumping. It is not about encouraging them to have sex; rather, it's about falling back on the not-so-good remedy.

A Good Start For 2012

2012-01-09T12:33:00.003+08:00

Most people spent their time ushering in the new year 2012 with friends and family member, drinking and eating like there's no tomorrow. Some stayed up well past midnight, into the wee hours of the morning. Yet others actually took the trouble swimming in the sea at the stroke of midnight, supposedly to wash away all the bad luck! I spent my new year a little differently.

On new year eve, I went cycling first thing in the morning with some friends. We clocked a decent 40km of short workout to the Sepangar Naval Base from Likas. It was supposed to have been a "slow and easy" ride, but of course when cycling with my friends, it's never really slow; and certainly not a very easy pace.

Later that morning, I went to BP Lab in Damai to check my hemoglobin level, as it was found to be slightly low a few months ago. I'm happy to say that the test revealed that my hemoglobin level had gone back to normal.

While I was at the lab, I decided that I might as well check my blood pressure too; I found that it's marginally high. That's kinda strange, because I've been working out almost on a daily basis. But of course there are many causes of high blood pressure. Well, I decided to text my running buddy, Dr Peter, to seek his opinion. He opined that something or somebody must have excited me.

The truth was that the cycling that morning might have had an impact on my blood pressure. But still, to start the year with a high blood pressure, albeit marginally, was something I wasn't happy about! I texted Peter again, suggesting that perhaps I should check my blood pressure again that night. But I said I had to do it before bedtime, because Mia might have something interesting on the agenda around bedtime?

Responding to my message, Peter noted thoughtfully, "Usually, not only [the] blood pressure will shoot up," he said; adding a free advice, "Try not to do the ultra-marathon version..."

Peter was concerned, of course, not only because of my blood pressure, but also because we had a long run planned for 4:45am the next morning.

At the ungodly hour of 4:48am the next day, which was new year day, I arrived at the Likas Sports Complex and found Peter, Jonas, Dennis, Robert and Teo. I was the last to arrive. We started out to Tanjung Aru, and along the way, a number of people greeted us with "Happy New Year!"

At the Wawasan roundabout, Dennis turned back, while the rest of us continued on. And then when we were about to reach Jalan Mat Salleh, we realised that Teo and Robert, too, were no longer behind us. Later, I found out from Teo that they made a detour and made their way back to Likas, making a total of 18.5km.

Jonas, Peter and I pushed on to Tanjung Aru. And at the roundabout, upon Jonas' suggestion, we made detours into secondary feeder roads, finally emerging at the beach area in Tanjung Aru. There, Jonas suggested that we run all the way to the Third Beach and take the seaside way back. But I was already tired, so I decided to turn back immediately, running solo all the way back for a 22km finish. Jonas and Peter did the sandy route along the beach and clocked about 25km.

The next day was still a public holiday, and I rewarded myself with a full rest day. In the afternoon, I was in my young nephew's birthday party, and finally ended up at the mahjong table at my dad's in the evening. There, I had another chance to check my blood pressure on a digital instrument. Well, it had gone down to normal again. So I'd consider that it's a good start for 2012.

Now if only the RM115 I spent on 4D numbers on Diriwan 88 would strike on new year day, that would have been perfect; though I must ask Peter if that would've raised my blood pressure even more?

Happy New Year to all my loyal readers. Wishing you all the best in 2012!

Prevention, Cure & Damage Control

2011-12-31T21:36:00.006+08:00

I had an interesting conversation with a friend recently. He happens to be a regular reader of this blog for a while now. We discussed at length about one of my recent articles, Aliens & Predators. In particular, he drew my attention to one of the paragraphs:

"If it's indeed true that citizenship had been given to foreigners by illegal means, it is somewhat too late now to remedy the situation. Imagine, for example, someone who did not deserve to be a Malaysian, but was able to buy the documents 10-20 years ago. When his children were born, they would have automatically become Malaysians. What are we gonna do now? Even if we could trace back to the root of those documents, how are we supposed to undo the mistake? Are we going to send off the children to the lands of their parents' which they've never known of?"

He said, "If you're truly convinced that it's too late now to remedy the situation; that we can't undo the mistake; what, then, is the use of finding out the truth?"

I looked at him sympathetically, and began my lecture style. I didn't mean to act as if I knew the answers to everything out there, but this kind of question simply drives me up the wall.

There is a popular saying—prevention is better than cure. It means, of course, that if one can help it, it is better to prevent a problem from arising, rather than trying to solve that problem later after it has arisen. This is especially true in the medical field because some "problems", i.e. diseases, have no known cure up to now. So the process of trying to find a cure may be much, much tougher—and costlier—than preventing that problem in the first place.

Having said that, however, just because there is no cure to the problem, that doesn't mean that we shouldn't investigate the nature of the problem anyway. The very least we can do is to apply damage control. The idea is to, first and foremost, understand the problem, and then hopefully come up with a strategy to prevent the problem from progressing further; as well as preventing it from happening again in the future.

Even if we can't do much to undo the mistake, we should at least investigate how undeserving people got to become Malaysian citizens. If indeed some people were abusing their powers, then perhaps preventive policies could be formulated to prevent the same thing from happening again in the future. It is imperative that we arrest the trend now, because it's doubtful that Sabah will be able to cope with another 300% growth in its population within the next 30 years. We really need to do something about that alarming figure; and we have to do it soon!

Start RunningNow!

2011-12-31T20:47:00.004+08:00

My short article on running in the New Sabah Times today; mainly for those who run only during the first two weeks of the year. Hopefully, they will be inspired to pick up the running routine; and more importantly, support the Borneo International Marathon 2012.

________________________________________

MOST people would say that, of the many things they would like to have in life, health is almost always among the top in their list. Yet the strange reality is that very few of them would actually spend the time and effort to maintain or improve their health.

A common phenomenon seen at the parks during the first two weeks of the year is that there is bound to be an abnormally huge crowd of runners. Many of them make up of people in new running gears. But they would disappear after a few weeks, only to be seen again at the beginning of the following year.

Too many people have tried and failed over the years, and the cycle is bound to repeat again and again in the coming years. As we are starting a new year once again, perhaps this is a good time to take stock of what went wrong, and hopefully this time we can make a difference.

Most people hardly ever run in their entire life. So running even a few kilometers would seem like an impossible task. But nothing can be further from the truth. With proper planning and strategy, almost everyone can quite easily and quickly get into the running routine. The trick lies in the gradual increase of the workload. Many people would fail simply because they do not allow for the body to adapt to the stress, thus resulting in over-training and injuries. They would then conclude that they are not meant to be runners.

The human body has an amazing ability to adapt to physical stress. However, there is always a limit. The strategy is to subject the body to manageable levels of stress; and then gradually increase the workload. What this means in the case of running is to start with (depending on fitness and stamina) briskwalk; or alternate between briskwalk and running, perhaps for a duration of 10 to 15 minutes, three times a week. Gradually increase the duration of the workout, and if possible the pace, over the following week. It is quite normal to experience a bit of sore legs during the first few visits to the track. Keep repeating the cycle, increasing the distance and/or pace, week after week. The only exception is to reduce the distance slightly on every third week (this is commonly known as the “step back”) to allow the body a bit of leeway while preparing itself for the next push. After several weeks, it will be relatively easier to complete 5km at a decent pace.

It makes very little sense to run way too much for one’s ability, and then suffer injuries and therefore out of action for the rest of the week. Remember that working very hard just one day in a week will hardly get you anywhere. It is much better to spread the workout to, say, three or four times a week at manageable levels.

It may be hard to believe, but once the first hurdle of getting oneself into the running routine has been conquered, running becomes much more pleasant and enjoyable. In fact, it can even become addictive!

The Borneo International Marathon (BIM) flags off on the 6^th of May 2012. That is over four months from now. As the curtains come down on 2011, why not set a new year's resolution to pick up the running habit? In fact, why not run the 10km, half marathon (21.1km) or even the full marathon (42.2km)?

If one follows the above running strategy, there is absolutely no reason why he is unable to complete at least the 10km race. After all, the time limit for the 10km race in the BIM is a generous 2 hours. So put on your running shoes and start running now! Remember to start at manageable levels and then build up the distance and pace gradually.

The organiser of the Borneo International Marathon 2012 looks forward to seeing you at the starting line on the 6^th of May 2012!

Christmas Party 2011

2011-12-26T23:18:00.038+08:00

A few weeks ago I ran the Macau Marathon. On the same day, Mia ran the Standard Chartered Marathon Singapore. She brought JJ along. But because JJ would have been alone in the hotel room while Mia run her race, we decided to invite my sister, Bridget, to come along for a short holiday. After the Macau Marathon, I flew to Singapore to join them, and then together we made a visit to the Universal Studios the next day.

It was during that Singapore trip that Mia and Bridget started talking about celebrating Christmas this year at my place. I didn't think of that idea very seriously though. But shortly after coming home, the Christmas party idea began to gain traction. Very soon Bridget, Mia and Audrey put things in motion. They also brought Evelyn into the picture. We would invite family members; and everyone was encouraged to bring presents along. Mia and JJ set up the Christmas tree; and in the weeks ahead gradually bought presents.

The party was on Christmas day itself; and by then there were plenty of presents under the Christmas tree. I have to admit that even I did not expect to see so many presents!

Shortly before we started the party, however, my niece, Elysha, gave a short welcoming speech and Christmas greetings to the audience. But when she took the mike, she froze for a bit; JJ came to the rescue. Thus encouraged, she proceeded to finish her speech.

We were all kinda hungry by then, but of course the children were more excited about the presents under the Christmas tree. So Audrey decided to give away the kids' presents first. JJ, I think, had two bags full of presents. But next year, I'm determined to find ways how to detach her doll, Lulu, from her for good.

After that, we invited everyone for dinner. And everyone went round the dining table, taking food. However, some of the invited guests had not arrived. We went ahead with dinner anyway.

Mia ordered 2 huge turkeys for the party. Quite honestly, I'm not such a big fan of turkey. In fact, I prefer chicken. Besides, turkey is much more expensive than chicken as discussed here.

People were coming back to the table for second and even third servings, of course, and that continued on and on for a while. I think the amount of food we had that night was just ridiculous, but that's mainly because of Mia's paranoid fear of running out of food. So she played safe by preparing more. Except that in this case, she made sure that we had much more!

When everyone was more or less settled down after dinner, Audrey was back to the Christmas tree again. The first recipient was my stepmother, Mary, who seemed somewhat surprised that she had a present too. Either that, or perhaps it was the way how she had to figure out that the present was meant for her. She was happy all the same as can be seen in this photo below.

And this is the close-up shot of her present. I'm sure you'd understand why she was unsure—at first—if the present was really for her. Oh! by the way, the present was from my sister, Bridget.

My stepmother frequently refers to Bridget as simply Badut for many years now. And although it's not really relevant to this post, I feel a little compelled to explain how that name came about. Well, we have a curious kind of disease in my family, where we would refer to people indirectly by using the names of well-known people or movie characters. For example, "The Friday 13th fellow" means Jason. It's some kind of a riddle way of naming people, you see. Badut, by the way, originated from Brigitte Bardot, but I'm not quite sure how that Bardot could evolve into Badut somehow. I guess it might have been a case of overdoing it with the pronunciation; or was it because of the natural pronunciation by a Kadazan tongue?

Well, anyway, we continued with the presents one by one until everyone had his and her presents. And then the dreadful karaoke session began. We started off with JJ and Sha-sha singing some Christmas songs.

Some time during all this, I suddenly realised that Dennis' sons, Aqil and Arif, were also there. I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but you'd understand my grave concern that Arif, the younger of the two siblings, is a big fan of Justin Bieber. I mean, I consider it a terrible tragedy that young girls would actually become big fans of the Bieber boy, but how young boys can be his fans too is a big mystery to me! Maybe if you'd just see his hairstyle, you'd understand my concern.

Aqil, on the other hand, as far as I know, is not a fan of Bieber, which is a small relief. I'm not sure why, or how, his hairstyle came about. My best guess is that he had just emerged from a washing machine somehow, but of course I may be wrong. This photo is not doing justice to his hairstyle, of course. To give you some idea, perhaps you'd imagine a dense undergrowth at the floor of a jungle where insects could get trapped forever.

As I said, the amount of food was ridiculous, really. We had rice, noodles, fried chicken wings, vegetables with black mushrooms, sliced fish, two 7kg roasted turkeys, beef stew, and mushroom soup. And if that's not enough, we had Christmas cakes, plus an assortment of puddings. We haven't even had the opportunity to touch the watermelon, papaya and bananas in the kitchen.

Well, I'd say that the party was a success, with Mary's present stealing the show. But I had to go to bed a little early and let Mia take the sole role as the host for the rest of the night, as I had a 21km run first thing the next morning. It wasn't until the next morning while I was running when I suddenly realised that I have forgotten to apply for a special police permit for the Christmas party. I hope we've escaped detectation. Keeping my fingers crossed...

Aliens & Predators

2011-12-20T21:12:00.012+08:00

Sabah deserves a place in Malaysia's Book of Records because of a recent great discovery. We have proven that a human being is able to talk through his anus. It is a special talent—that! Check it out here.

In recent months, there have been calls by several parties in Sabah for the setting up of a Royal Commission of Inquiry (RCI) to investigate allegations of aliens getting identification documents through dubious means. It has been reported that Sabah's population had increased from a mere 648,000 in 1970 to 2.6 million in 2000. That works out to be about 300% increase—a figure which is about threefold that of Sarawak's within the same period.

Sabah and Sarawak are the eastern states of Malaysia, and had in the past been considered as lagging in development when compared to the other states in the west. In some ways, I think we are still lagging, although we've been closing the gap over the years.

I don't know if it had anything to do with the time taken to improve electricity supply throughout the state. Or the frequent power cuts which is still prevalent even up to now. Maybe that had resulted in the population having nothing exciting to do to amuse themselves in the evenings, so much so that they ended up amusing themselves in the bedroom? I'm guessing maybe that's the explanation our leaders are trying to shove down our throats. But even if that were indeed true, 300% is still a mind-boggling figure to be reckoned with.

One would have good grounds to wonder what exactly caused the population boom. As a matter of common sense and logic, it's only natural to suspect the possibility of influx of foreigners into Sabah throughout the years—perhaps some through legal means, and some through illegal means. Either way, we Sabahans would like to know.

However, this is not a new issue in Sabah. Each time the general elections are approaching, this particular issue would be raised again somehow. We have had several people occupying the Chief Minister's seat in Sabah, but none of them was successful in getting the Federal Government to set up the RCI to investigate the abnormally rapid population growth.

The general presumption—though admittedly, it may be unfounded—is that some predators were fast to capitalise on the desperation of the aliens by issuing identification documents not according to proper procedures, thus making fast bucks. These unscrupulous predators can get into trouble if the RCI proposal goes through.

If it's indeed true that citizenship had been given to foreigners by illegal means, it is somewhat too late now to remedy the situation. Imagine, for example, someone who did not deserve to be a Malaysian, but was able to buy the documents 10-20 years ago. When his children were born, they would have automatically become Malaysians. What are we gonna do now? Even if we could trace back to the root of those documents, how are we supposed to undo the mistake? Are we going to send off the children to the lands of their parents' which they've never known of?

As I said, these are merely the general presumption of the ordinary Sabahans in the street. But then that's the main reason why we are asking for a grand scale investigation to get at the truth of the matter once and for all. If we're wrong in our presumption, then so be it!

Nevertheless, I don't believe it's gonna happen anytime soon, because I have a feeling that the powers that be can already guess what's the outcome of the investigation will be; and they can think of no possible remedy for the complications that can arise. So the simplest solution to the problem, in true Malaysian style, is to sweep the matter under the carpet.

In the mean time, as in the movie, aliens and predators are both gonna continue to haunt us.

Approaching The Last Corner & Looking Ahead

2011-12-14T22:09:00.012+08:00

It's hard to believe that we're approaching the end of 2011. What a year this has been—I've run 3 full marathons and several half marathons, a 100km cycling challenge, a sprint triathlon, and a 100km ultra trail marathon. But apart from finishing all those races, I was also able to achieve personal best times in the full marathon and half marathon. A truly exhausting, but fulfilling year!

While I'm reducing the intensity of my workouts during this festive season, I'm excited to look forward to another fruitful year beginning with a 100km ultra trail marathon in February in Hong Kong.

However, what I'd really like to do next year is to focus on the sport of triathlon. The sprint event that I did in Miri at the end of October was just to get a feel of doing 3 disciplines in a single race, but next year sooner or later, I will want to do the Olympic Distance (OD) triathlon. The OD comprises a 1.5km swim, 40km bike and 10km run.

The way I see it, running the marathon is a more challenging sport. An average athlete can quite easily complete the OD triathlon within 3 hours, whereas it would take almost an elite marathoner to complete a full marathon within the same time. That's as far as endurance goes. Nevertheless, the triathlon is a much more technical sport when compared to running.

Most people are not very good swimmers; and strangely enough, most people are not willing to spend the time and effort to improve their swimming technique. Regular readers of this blog would know that I'm not very good in swimming—at least not as far as the freestyle goes—as reported here. But next year, since I'm trying to do well in the OD triathlon, I will have to work on my swimming technique somehow. For the moment, I can't even begin to imagine swimming 1.5km in the open water with the freestyle, but I'm convinced that if I tried hard enough, it is doable.

Then there is the question of cycling. I've started cycling using a secondhand road bike since about half a year ago. I'm not a very regular cyclist though. At best, I'd cycle once a week on a Saturday, but even then I've missed several of those rides too to make way for my training for other events. So next year I will have a lot of work to do on my cycling too.

Most of my friends are using more sophisticated bikes, and much more expensive than mine. Teo, for example, is currently using a bike which has been upgraded to a worth of over RM20,000, i.e. about 5 times the worth of my humble bike. But even then he's not satisfied; he's planning to buy a triathlon bike very soon.

This past few months, I've been thinking more about my bike, and I'm now itching to buy a triathlon bike too! I can't see myself spending a fortune on a bicycle like Teo, but I might buy a slightly better one than my existing bike.

I was discussing with a female friend about bikes via exchanges of text messages recently (Yes, because of the availability of Whatsapp, people would actually conduct discussions via cellphones these days). I was explaining to her the difference between a road bike and a triathlon bike. Check out the photo of a triathlon bike below which I've downloaded randomly from the net:

As I was saying to my friend, the triathlon bike comes with the aero handlebar whereupon the cyclist can rest his elbows, thus supporting his upper body while the lower body does the work. The idea is that because the upper body is not very active, energy can be saved, and the cyclist can last longer that way.

Of course I had to interrupt myself to remind her that I was still talking about cycling, not about sex. I didn't think her mind would wander from bicycles to sex, but because of the description of the activity, you'd never know!

Well, anyway, I've been browsing the net, and to my horror, found so many available brands of triathlon bikes, and prices ranging from a modest RM8,000 to the astronomical RM20,000! I'm thinking perhaps the RM20,000 ones can move on its own for the entire 40km by a single push of the pedals? I asked Teo about this theory, and he confirmed that that is indeed the case. Only that later on, I found out that he was talking about motorbikes, not bicycles.

At any rate, I won't immediately rush into triathlon in 2012. First, I will be focusing on the 100km ultra trail marathon in Hong Kong; and then very likely the Sundown Ultra Marathon (100km) in Singapore in June. I'm gearing for the OD, hopefully in Port Dickson in July; and if I can do well, I might even consider attempting the half ironman in the later part of the year.

Other possible events in my 2012 sports calendar include the Powerman (cycling and running), and TMBT 2 in September. I'm hoping to run at least one full marathon, but I can't see when I can squeeze that in in 2012.

Oh! By the way, I've volunteered to help in organising the 5th edition of the Borneo International Marathon which is scheduled to flag off on the 6th of May next year. This morning was the official launching at the Likas Stadium. If you are a runner, please register soon here.

Paralysed in Macau

2011-12-11T20:08:00.003+08:00

Last week, I was in Macau to run the Macau Marathon. And after the race, the plan was that I'd catch a flight to Singapore to join Mia, JJ and my sister, Bridget, for a short holiday. Mia ran the Singapore Marathon on the same day I ran Macau.

I shared a room with my friend, Teo, in Macau. At a cost of about RM630 per night, it was an average hotel with the hardest mattresses I've ever encountered in my history of sleeping in hotels. The hotel did not have wi-fi, and although they had internet connectivity via a phone cable, I did not bring along my notebook.

Although I brought along my cellphone to Macau, I did not have the so-called roaming facility. So my phone was as good as dead in Macau. I was trying to inform Mia of my arrival in Singapore that evening, so although I was unable to use my phone, I decided that I could at least communicate via emails. I happened to know that Bridget's phone had roaming facility, so she could be contacted via her cellphone in Singapore. I didn't think she'd actually check her emails, but what I could do was to leave a message through my niece, Mona, via facebook. Yes, folks, it is much faster to contact teenagers via facebook when compared to emails. After all, I'm guessing Mona spends probably up to 23 hours a day on facebook, if you know what I mean. If there is a sudden outbreak of nuclear war, I'd reckon she would try to save her cellphone first before anything else, because of course she would die a natural death without her facebook, you see.

Anyway, Teo and I walked to the nearby shops looking for an internet cafe. We found none! It felt like eternity, but actually it was just a few days without internet connectivity. I felt paralysed and miserable in Macau.

Somehow I can't remember how we modern folks became so dependent on the internet. Just a generation ago, people worked in the office equipped with manual type-writers. They didn't even have desktop computers, let alone internet connectivity. They did not have air-conditioners; merely ceiling fans, and they relied heavily on paper weights to keep all their documents in place. Most of the cars they drove had no air-conditioners too. And of course they had no cellphones. Yet they survived their days, months and years.

Try preventing yourself from touching your cellphone for just 3 days if you can. I bet you'd feel paralysed and miserable too!

Nuptial Marathons

2011-11-30T22:04:00.005+08:00

A number of people I know got married in recent months, including my own brother, Harry. I can't help but notice that all these weddings are celebrated in almost the same way. The fashionable thing to do these days is to take up a "wedding package" which usually includes inter alia the making or renting of the wedding gown, a photography session which may or may not include the video compilation, and of course the grand wedding reception in a famous hotel where hundreds or even thousands of family members and close friends are invited to grace the occasion.

If anything, these days weddings are not a cheap affair—they can cost up to a pretty down payment for a house, or maybe the full price of a car. And in almost all cases, I also notice that most of these young people who're struggling to build up their careers would have to sacrifice quite a lot to raise the money to cover the cost of the wedding celebrations. In fact, it is almost expected of them to throw a big party!

I found myself looking back at my own wedding some 19 years ago. When compared to what's the norm today, it pales in comparison. We had the church thing, of course; and then after that we proceeded to the hall at the back of the church for some light snacks and soft drinks. Later that evening, we invited some friends for a party. But far from a grand wedding reception in a famous hotel, we decided to set up tents in the front compound of my uncle's house. We did not pay astronomical amount for professional photographers. Instead, we sought help from some friends to take photos and videos. Everything was kept very simple and down to earth. I dare say it was one of those boring weddings based on today's standard!

I think it would have been nice if I could afford a grand wedding, but the cost of such was far beyond anything that I could afford. I used up quite a bit of my savings for the celebration, and I was determined not to borrow money for that purpose.

Actually, it's strange that people in general have the habit of having grand wedding celebrations, really. Admittedly, it's a very special day, but I see marriage as something akin to running the marathon. Too many people celebrate their arrivals at the starting line, and then after the race had started, too many of them find that it's a very unpleasant experience. So they struggle; they suffer when they reach the undulating surfaces; their knees and ankles turn into jelly when negotiating bends; and ultimately many of them suffer cramps and give up long before reaching the finish line!

I celebrated my arrival at the starting line over 19 years ago. But it was a very simple celebration. And as I started running the race, there were many, many tough moments when I had to climb hills, when I had to overcome exhaustion and thirsts and cramps all over my body. But overall, it's been an enjoyable run anyway. With my arrival at each new milestone, I felt there was a bigger reason to celebrate. I'm happy that I've reached this far in my race, and I celebrate the fact that I'm still racing up to now. I've seen too many people who celebrated excessively at the starting line who've long since given up on the race. All those grand celebrations seem such a waste.

As I run my marathon, I feel blessed that I still have it in me to continue running. I'm still enjoying the race, and although I do not throw a big party at each new milestone, I celebrate grandly in my heart and mind. But perhaps 20 years is a good distance to pause for a grand celebration before continuing with the race again. I think 2012 will be an exciting year...

A Week Dominated By Apes & Shooting

2011-11-18T19:44:00.007+08:00

SEVERAL weeks ago, I found myself at Centrepoint one weekend for no apparent reason. I think I went for my long run first thing that morning, and then decided to walk for a bit to relax my legs. I ended up at the Growball cinema on the 8th floor. I did not plan to watch a movie, but I eventually decided to watch Rise of The Planet of the Apes anyway. I know the title of the movie may give you the wrong impression of what it's all about, but let me hasten to assure you that it wasn't a documentary about our politicians.

I would have brought JJ along to watch the movie, but she was then preparing for her exams, and mommy just wouldn't allow it; not even on a weekend.

Earlier this week, I was in Wisma Merdeka during lunch break when I saw the video CD of the same movie. I decided that it would be a nice movie to buy. JJ could watch it at home now that her exams are over. As I had expected, JJ liked the movie. She was intrigued by all the apes, and she asked me if those were real apes trained by humans. I explained to her that those were in fact not real apes; that those were actually the results of computer-generated images based on impressions of human actors. The main character in the movie was an ape named Caesar which was modelled by an actor named Andy Serkis.

When you come to think of it, it's quite amazing that a man who looks like this...

can somehow be transformed into something that looks like this...

But that just goes to show how far the technology in movie-making had progressed over the last few decades.

Also within this week, we have had quite some excitement in the front pages of our local papers, concerning two politicians who've long ago passed their heydays, but refused to fade gracefully into retirement. Instead, they're still fighting very hard to remain relevant today. So they are reduced to pointing fingers at each other—both trying to say the other made mistakes to the detriment of the people of Sabah.

On the left-hand corner, we have Tan Sri Datuk Harris Salleh.

And on the right-hand corner, we have Datuk Seri Yong Teck Lee.

And just in case you're wondering—no, the above pictures have not gone through the same computer modification thing to make them look like apes, even if that seems to be the case here. I swear, that's how they really look like in person!

In the heat of the debate, apparently Yong offered to shoot himself if he's found to have committed any criminal wrongdoings. I think that would have been such a waste. I'm guessing maybe there are people who're willing to pay a lot of money to have the fun of pulling the trigger on him. I mean, why waste it? Why not turn it into a fund-raising affair; if Yong deems it fit to shoot himself, he might as well let someone else pull the trigger for cash, and then donate the money to charities. That would be an awesome, albeit dramatic, means of doing something good for the people.

After all, it won't be the first time a man is shot because he's mistaken for a monkey?

Sabah Adventure ChallengeTMBT: My Ultimate Race (Part 2: Final 50km)

2011-11-08T20:45:00.011+08:00

After dinner at CP5, we embarked on our journey to CP6. A short distance down the gravel road, we turned to a junction on the right and went up a hill that seemed like there's no end. It's usually not such a good idea to climb steep hills with a full stomach, but well, I'm not sure if climbing a hill with an empty stomach is any better! We spent quite a long time on an earth path which eventually connected to a crude concrete flight of stairs, leading to a house at the top. Passing a metal gate, we arrived at a gravel road, and a few metres to the right, there was a signboard with the TMBT logo and an arrow indicating to proceed uphill. The road finally terminated at a house at the very top of the hill, which was CP6. It took us well over an hour to reach there from CP5.

It was then about 9pm, and we were already very tired from about 14 hours of torture. Remembering that we had to complete a loop through the dense jungle around Miki Camp before we could leave the area back to CP4 (which would by then be referred to as CP8) by 7 am, we decided not to take chances—we would immediately proceed to get over with the dense jungle first.

At 9:11pm we set out from CP6 up the hill—a long way up—on slippery paths because of the rain. On the way, we met a number of other participants on the return leg from the jungle. Many of them were complaining about getting lost because they were unable to spot the route markers. This, we eventually found to be quite untrue. In fact, I think the organiser did exceptionally well as far as the route markers were concerned. However, one would have to be extra careful and alert when trekking in the jungle at night. The three of us worked well together, but because of the slippery paths, we had no choice but to walk painstakingly slow. We had a good dose of hills—very, very steep hills (any steeper, it would have been wall-climbing), dense jungle, trees which looked all the same in the dark, bamboo and hanging bridges, even crossing shallow streams on foot, and very, very confusing paths before finally arriving at that forsaken checkpoint, CP6A! Throughout that jungle workout, I was also beginning to suffer blisters in my groin. But there was no time to worry about blisters. After signing the check-in list, we immediately continued to find our way back to CP6 again. The entire loop eventually took us 4 hours 45 mins!

We found ourselves at CP6 (now referred to as CP7) again at around 2am. The original plan was to catch a few hours sleep to rest our exhausted bodies. But alas, I did not like the prospect of missing the cut off time at CP8 at 7am. We reckoned the distance between CP7 to CP8 was just 8km, but in the dark and unfamiliar territory, that could be a very long distance. We sat down to plain tea, and some left-over chicken soup, made visits to the toilet, and finally at 2:44am braved the cold rain from CP7 to CP8.

Although I was basically reduced to the role of a babysitter, I must admit that Mia and Felice are very strong women. They are very strong fighters—no throwing tantrums, not much complaints. They rose to the occasion and fought till the end!

Although there were route markers between CP7 and CP8, they were quite far apart. And when one is desperately in need of sleep and exhausted, it's so easy to miss them. Such was the case with 3 other participants we caught up with along the way. They stood in the middle of a gravel road aimlessly not knowing where else to go in the dark. Having studied the map prior to the trip, I realised that we would be making a return trip to CP4, and I carefully made mental snapshots of key landmarks along the way. That proved to save us, although we still made several wrong turns. Because of exhaustion, we walked at snail's pace, finally reaching CP8 at almost 6am, barely within the cut off time at 7am! That journey between CP7 to CP8 was quite an epic challenge, as we were under time pressure; a race against time, under a lot of stress.

But once we made the cut off time, we felt a big relief. It was then 23 hours since the flag off, and the exhaustion was beyond words. I entered the hall and found a table. I pushed the stuff aside and climbed onto it. Using my backpack as my pillow, I decided to close my eyes for a minute or two. I could hear people talking in the background, but I couldn't actually make out what they were talking about. And then I closed my eyes for a minute.

Just a moment later, I was awaken again when Felice was exclaiming her admiration of a girl named Cynthia Gan, who made it back to CP8 within minutes of the cut off time, all on her own. Apparently Cynthia conquered the horrifying loop of dense jungle in 7 hours! I looked at my watch. Although it felt like I closed my eyes for just a minute or two, actually 55 minutes had elapsed! How time had passed that quickly, only God knows!

I made a visit to the toilet, brushed my teeth, washed my face and changed my shirt; finally leaving CP8 at about 8am. At first the road was a pleasant downhill for almost 1km. But that was followed by a 3km climb on a gravel road to reach the main road. So punishing was the climb I consumed 2 packets of energy gels within an hour. I was also trying very hard to endure the blisters in my groin; I could feel the biting sensation with every single step.

I finally reached CP9, which was about 5km away from CP8, at about 9:15am. I was happy to see Rudy at the checkpoint. I asked him how much further to the finish line, and he replied less than 20km.

And at this juncture, folks, let me give you all a very good advice: never ever trust information given by any person throughout the race; only Aman Avtar Sandhu's information is accurate. The rest are just too dumb to know anything about the race. The distance from CP9 to the finish line is about 24km, not less than 20km. By giving the participants a distance shorter by 4km, that could upset time planning. In fact, that almost happened to me in this race. Thinking that I had a cushion of 4km, I reduced my pace again, thinking that I had plenty of time left to reach the finish line.

We spent close to 4 hours to make it to CP10, the last checkpoint of the race before the finish line. Estimating the distance based on our pace, we knew that it was about 11km to 12km. It was a very long journey comprising hilly terrains before a very, very long downhill road which absolutely punished both knees. When we arrived at CP10, I thought we had only 7km to 8km left to run to the finish line. Imagine my surprise, and disappointment, when we were informed by the staff that there's still 12km to go!

My heart sank. My legs felt like jelly; the blisters in my groin felt like there's an open wound the size of Singapore! Looking at our watches, we realised that there's less than 6 hours to the time limit. It's quite embarrassing, really, I have run a 12km workout in Likas within an hour, but the 12km ahead of me now was like a 120km feat!

At 1:15pm, just as Cynthia Gan arrived at CP10, we started out for the finish line. I told Felice and Mia that I might be unable to make it because of my blisters. We crossed a paddy field and a hanging bridge and started to climb a very steep concrete driveway. With every step I could feel the biting pain in my groin, but I had to focus on the finish line. After an hour or so, Felice started to build up her lead. I remained with Mia for a bit until I remembered that it's quite safe for her to walk alone on a major village road in broad daylight. We might not make it to the finish line in time, but if there's a chance that one of us could, then there's no reason to hold back now. Thus in spite of my weak legs and horrible blisters, I started running again.

I kept running for a good half an hour until I caught up with Felice, all the time thinking that I could barely make it to the finish line on time. From far I saw Felice stopped to ask some villagers how much further to reach the finish line. When I finally caught up with her, she said we had about 3km to go. Looking at my watch again, I was pleasantly surprise to see that it was just about 3pm. We had plenty of time to 7pm, so I decided to slow down again and wait for Mia.

A few minutes later, Mia emerged from behind, shouting pathetically not to leave her because she's afraid that she'd lose her way. With 3km to go, I waited for Mia and briskwalked with her, while Felice left us again.

Soon after that, we came to a small road branching off the main road, with plenty of of route markers on it. We entered that road and felt very relieved that we're already approaching the finish line. We walked and walked until we came to what appeared to be a deadend!

There was a route marker leading to a jungle trail. And I was, like—again!? My excitement rose as I entered the jungle trail, thinking that it was a mere few metres leading to the finish line. But no, Aman made that final approach amazingly brutal—it was probably a total of 1.5km of jungle trail along the river bank through rubber estate, crossing a very long hanging bridge, off to yet more jungle path on the other side, passing under a fallen tree, before emerging at a school compound. Still a long way down the field.

I could see the finish line. I looked back and noticed that Mia had lagged behind. With the finish line just several metres away, I decided to sit on a rock while waiting for Mia. Felice came walking to cheer me on, but I wasn't going to cross the finish line yet. I kept an eye over the hill for some minutes, but Mia did not show. I was beginning to worry about having to go back to search for her. After waiting for 10 minutes, I decided to give another 10 minutes. If Mia's still not there by then, I would have no choice but to go back for her.

But soon after that, Mia emerged from the top of the hill, walking very slowly. She was obviously exhausted. I looked at her from a distance and felt a lump in my throat. The last time I felt that way looking at her was over 19 years ago when her dad walked her down the aisle in St Simon Church. It reminded me once again why I married this crazy woman all those years ago.

When she arrived, I took her hand—much the same way I took her hand from her dad many years ago—and then both of us walked the last few metres hand in hand together. As we approached the finish line, we were accorded with a big round of applause. Cameras clicking frantically, and I actually felt myself blushing, just like I did 19 years ago. We crossed the finish line and received our medals from Aman himself.

The following series of photos speak for themselves (courtesy of Dr Dev Sidhu):

I said at the beginning that I would go for a stroll in the park. Well, it wasn't a stroll in the park at all. Throughout the race, it was very intense—very hard work all the way; so much pain, and so much stress. The race brought out the best in its participants. The Most Beautiful Thing (TMBT) was indeed beautiful and brutal to the very extreme.

I must congratulate Aman and his team for a very good job. I would not hesitate to recommend this event to any adventure addict out there. You just have to experience it to believe it!

Sabah Adventure ChallengeTMBT: My Ultimate Race (Part 1: First 50km)

2011-11-08T07:22:00.041+08:00

I have conquered several marathons and shorter running events in the region; and I have recently conquered a sprint triathlon in Miri. In all of those events, I was racing to finish them in the best possible time. Simply finishing a 42km marathon within the time limit is no longer a challenge to me—it has never been—as I have no ambition to attempt the Boston Marathon.

When I registered for Sabah Adventure Challenge: The Most Beautiful Thing (TMBT), a 100km ultra trail marathon event, I had a change of attitude. It was a distance far beyond anything I've done before. From the very beginning, I made up my mind to enter the race with the aim of finishing it; not for speed. Still, the 36-hour official time limit seemed very generous. I brought along a camera, planning to savour the beauty of the Sabah countryside. I was planning to enjoy the "stroll in the park" with plenty of rests in between.

Mia had also decided to join me in this outing; and although at first I tried to talk her out of it (I suggested that she should attempt the 50km category instead) I was secretly pleased when she insisted to try the 100km anyway. Our friend, Dr Felice Huang, who was at first doubtful that she could finish the 100km, was inspired by Mia, and then decided to take up the challenge too. Throughout the months prior to the event, too many people were trying to talk them out of the 100km category. But I kept on encouraging them both.

Apart from the challenge in the distance, Mia and Felice were very worried about the inevitable night trekking. At first, it seemed possible to try to race during the day; then sleep during the night; and finally race again to the finish line on the second day within the 36-hour allocated time. But it soon became obvious that that's impossible to achieve—running or trekking at night was totally inevitable.

The 100km was divided into several portions, and participants had to check in at numerous pit stops or checkpoints referred to as CP1, CP2, CP3, CP3A, CP4, CP5 (finish line for 25km/50km categories), CP6, CP6A, CP7, CP8, CP9, CP10, finish line. Of those checkpoints, there was a cut off time at CP3 (8 hours from flag off); and CP8 (24 hours from flag off).

We found ourselves at the starting line of the race near a bridge, some 9km south of Kota Belud town. A beautiful sunny morning, and we were treated with a clear view of the majestic Mount Kinabalu from the bridge.

There were many familiar faces at the starting line. Claire and Lawrence were there, and you won't be surprised, of course, that Claire beat Lawrence in their 50km category because she had the unfair advantage of extremely long and sexy pair of legs.

It wasn't a very big crowd, but I think it was a correct decision by the organiser to limit the size of participation, since the race route brought us to some eco-sensitive areas in the hills.

Mia and Felice walked together for the most part of the earlier portion of the race. From a perfect asphalt road, it very quickly broke off to a gravel road and some crude concrete driveways. But some portions were of loose gravels.

I told them that I'd go a little faster and wait for them at CP5, and then tackle the night trekking part together with them beyond that point. I did not know the ridiculous rolling hills, rivers, narrow paths along cliffs that we had to pass before reaching CP5. I had estimated that Mia and Felice would reach CP5 at 3pm at the latest. Oh boy, I was in for a big surprise!

As I continued down the endless road, labouring my way up and down countless hills, it soon dawned on me that to reach CP5 by 3pm was not only impossible for Mia and Felice, but I seriously doubted that even I could make it there by 5pm!

Along the way, Jiki and Judy overtook me. And I also noticed that Jack was up ahead. Several more familiar faces from the numerous trekking outings up to Terian were also there; and one by one they overtook me. It was quite a challenge to suppress my inclination to run ahead. But I had to stick to my gameplan—I had to save some energy for the second 50km of the race; whereas they were only running a 50km race.

Well, I passed CP1 and CP2 within 3 hours, and I was quite happy to continue to CP3 when I accidentally stepped onto a loose gravel on the road and twisted my right foot. Immediately, I could feel a sharp pain. I paused for a brief moment and tested my weight on my foot. It was painful, but still bearable. Thus I continued my way to CP3, but reducing my pace just as a precautionary measure.

Many more hills later, I finally arrived at CP3 and was pleasantly surprised to find a grand welcome by the villagers, with gongs (unfortunately beating out of tune). I duly signed the check-in list and proceeded to get some water.

There, I noticed Tan Yoke Lee, a friend devoid of any muscle in her body. She had arrived at CP3 a couple of minutes before me. She was making final checks of her bag before continuing her journey.

Claire and Annie were also there for an early lunch. Claire looked a bit tired, though I still think her extremely long sexy legs were an unfair advantage (Damn! Just look at those legs!).

I grabbed some bananas, topped up my water bottles, and decided to sit for a bit on a plastic stool. And then the inevitable happened. Only a few minutes off my feet, and when I tried to stand up again, I could feel the pain on my right foot. The loose gravel had caused a bigger damage than I had initially thought. I tested my weight on it by walking around for a bit, but it was still throbbing. At that point, it seemed certain that I was not destined to even reach CP5. Luckily there was a medic team at CP3, and I managed to get a deep heat cream to numb the pain.

Looking at my watch, it was clear that Mia and Felice would not reach CP5 before nightfall, let alone 5pm. So I decided to wait for them at CP3 while at the same time hoping that I could rest my foot. A little over half an hour later, I was pleased to see Mia arriving at CP3.

But we had to wait a little longer before Felice turned up from the hills; her head bobbing up and down from afar. She seemed to be doing fine, and immediately after signing the check-in list, was obliged to dance a bit of Sumazau to the tune of the gongs.

But things were looking bleak for me. I did not have much hope for my right foot. It was throbbing still, although I could still walk. In accordance to our plan, we would break for lunch in CP3A, not at CP3. So after a very short rest for Mia and Felice, we decided to push on. As Mia and Felice walked down the hill, I was limping about 30 metres behind them. I had ponstan with me, but Felice said she had better, i.e. Celebrex. However, it's advisable to take Celebrex after a meal. Since lunch was not scheduled up till CP3A, I had to endure the distance up to that point before consuming the drug.

But the journey to CP3A wasn't as easy as one would expect. We had to pass several hanging bridges, scale steep hills, pass abandoned dirt roads, and wade through an icy-cold river.

But wading through the river was a blessing in disguise after all. Coupled with the deep heat cream I had applied earlier, the icy-cold water soothed my nerves; and I emerged on the other side feeling much better! Putting on my shoes again, I braved the steep hill ahead, Mia and Felice not very far behind, until we came to a river.

A very brief stop for a photo before we continued along the river bank, finally arriving at a hanging bridge.

Felice was still doing great as she made the crossing into CP3A.

CP3A was just on the other side of the river. We were relieved to finally sit down to lunch which comprised kochung. Some guys from the village were at the next table, busily drinking beer. I fancy that they were wondering what these silly city folks were doing trekking all the way out here. After lunch, I took Celebrex, but I had to wait for about half an hour before the drug took its effect.

The journey from CP3A to CP4 was quite something, really. We had to go through very narrow paths along a river, high on the edge of a hill. A small mistake would lead to a long fall below, causing serious injuries or even death. Later, we had to pass through a steep climb up a hill. And somewhere in the middle of the jungle, out of nowhere, a race marshal was perched on a three stump. Gave the two women quite a surprise, he did. I don't know why I did it, but I asked him how much further to CP4. Of course we all know that village folks are never ever good in estimating distances.

"Oh... not too far, just a little bit of climb from here; then more or less level after that, followed by a bit of climb, before finally reaching the road again," he said, adding, "CP4 is just about a kilometre down that road."

OK, that sounds simple enough. So we climbed up the hill to the top. Then we climbed some more hills. And yet more hills...

Finally making our way down a very steep hill, hanging on to tree branches to support our weights to prevent from slipping down the slopes, and then finally finding our way to a gravel road. Climbing up that road, we met a bunch of villagers smiling happily upon seeing us approach. "How much further?", I asked one of them, though of course not really expecting an accurate answer.

"Ummm... about 2km," he replied, twitching his lips in the direction of Kampung Lobong-Lobong. He offered us some bottled mineral water, but we declined, since we still had enough water for 2km.

So we continued on the gravel road, feeling glad that we would soon be checking in at CP4. Then we walked some more. And yet some more, until we came to a dam. From a distance, we could see a bunch of guys waving at us and cheering and clapping their hands. I could feel the adrenalin surge in my system. The three of us approached those guys in high spirit, only to find that that was not CP4!

So again I asked them how much further to CP4. About 1km to go down that road. Fine, 1km it is then! We walked and walked and came upon a school field with plenty of route markers cutting across it. Some kids were playing football on the field. But as we were approaching from the road, a man came from the other side to intercept us. Without us prompting him, he went into an animated explanation with his hands flying all over, basically telling us that the actual route was supposed to have been across a river, but because of a heavy rain upstream, that river had since been flooded. Hence an alternative approach across the school field of which, according to him, would account for more or less the same distance. He then turned to one of the boys lingering around and gave short instructions to him. We were then ushered across the field through a fence, and passing several other kids who greeted us with "good morning", even though it was already way past noon then.

As we continued down the road, suddenly a black pickup truck came from the opposite direction. And again, without much hope of getting an accurate answer, I asked how much further to CP4. Not far, we were almost there; apparently about 1km to CP4. Felice, probably tired of hearing that same figure after walking a few kilometres, noted that the "1km to go" never seemed to end.

We then continued our journey on that road up a moderate hill until we came to a bridge on the left. Seeing a route marker, we crossed that bridge and began to go up a concrete driveway. It was a ridiculous climb, but somewhere in the middle of that hill, we saw a participant running from the opposite direction. We have not even done 40km, and here we have someone who'd finished about 70km of the 100km race. As we continued the journey up the hill, we saw a few more other runners, including my friend, Ahmadul Tahir (he eventually finished 3rd in the race).

Well, we finally conquered that "1km" which was actually something like 5km, and arrived at CP4. Dr Helen was there and was just about to proceed to CP5 the finish line for her 50km category. She told us that Dr Liaw, another friend in the 100km category had withdrawn from the race due to severe cramps in his legs.

We rested for some minutes, and then noting that it was already past 4pm, we decided to continue to CP5 before nightfall. On the way out from CP4, we were already feeling the exhaustion but we kept fighting anyway. We went down a long steep hill, before crossing a hanging bridge to the other side. Then more gravel road ahead. A few hours of rolling hills, and eventually we had to put on our reflective vests, headlamps, and rear blinkers. We pushed on in the dark. Mia had to stop for a bit and Felice went ahead, eventually proceeding on the CP5 with another male participant.

Soon after, it started to drizzle, but we pushed on without bothering with our raincoats. Kilometres upon kilometres of gravel road until finally we heard dogs barking. We knew that we were approaching CP5. We signed our names and then moved to a nearby timber building where we saw some other participants having glorious dinner. It was already past 7pm then.

12 hours of hard work. We were deprived of sleep, hungry, totally exhausted. And then the thought that we had only reached the midway point of our race category. Remembering the race route provided by the organiser, we knew that the second half of the 50km would be even tougher. So while we were eating, we took stock of our situation.

The next challenge out of CP5 would be a climb to CP6, wherefrom we were supposed to go up, and then go down a valley on the Crocker Range in the dark of the night in a very dense jungle. That would be the mother of 'em all, but we had to start planning at which point we would catch our much needed sleep?

As we were chewing our ayam masak kicap, suddenly Claire emerged from a nearby van. They had apparently finished their race about an hour earlier. Teo was also there. It was tough watching other competitors all set to go home while you still have another 50km to go.

The three of us agreed that we should all go up to CP6 after dinner, and then tackle the dense jungle challenge first, before coming back to CP7 to catch some sleep. However, we have not forgotten that there is a 24-hour cut off time at CP8, meaning 7am the next morning. Felice was saying that if she felt too exhausted and couldn't continue after CP7, she may decide to withdraw from the race. But Mia and I said the least we should do is to try to reach CP7 first. Then decide what we want to do after that.

After dinner, we walked across to the checkpoint again to ask the marshals the distance from CP5 to CP6. The answer, as you may have guessed, was 1km only. If there is anything the organiser need to improve in future TMBT events, he should brief his marshals to get their distances right to start with.

With tired muscles, darkness of the night, cold temperature of the highland, and the annoying rain, we embarked on the second 50km of the race...

Sabah Adventure ChallengeThe Most Beautiful Thing: 100km Ultra Trail Marathon

2011-11-07T12:34:00.003+08:00

Shortly after I registered for the 100km ultra trail marathon, The Most Beautiful Thing (TMBT), a few months ago, the Race Director, Aman Avtar Sandhu, requested to be my friend on facebook. I did not really know the man, and I don't usually accept friend requests unless I really know the person. However, in this case, I made an exception and accepted the request because I thought it would be a useful means to raise questions or concerns about the race.

It was during one of those race briefings that I saw him lamented in his facebook that the participants were late. I commented that that was quite like us Malaysians; and then I said I hope the organiser would flag us off on time during the race, because we have limited daylight. The result of that comment was that I was immediately kicked out of his friend's list! Some people are very sensitive. However, I'm pleased to note that the organiser did change the flag off time to an hour earlier anyway, so I felt that I made my point somehow.

I did not like the way the organiser seemed to be unsure of what he's doing. Over the months leading up to the event, he kept changing the rules of his race. Mandatory items were dropped, and new items added to the list. Cut off times were then included, and even those were changed. Up till the last minute, changes were still made, including the necessity of buying a reflective vest for the 100km participants. All these changes were made or introduced on safety grounds, according to the organiser.

I became somewhat disturbed with the way things were progressing. It made the organiser look sloppy. After a while, I became quite annoyed! And I set out to criticize this event after it's all over!

About a week before the race, the organiser revealed the race route. It appeared like 70% of the course would comprise gravel village roads running along river banks. I had expected to see more jungle paths through the hills. So again I was disappointed. I was, like, I did not sign up for gravel roads! What challenge is there running on gravel roads? But well, since I've signed up for the event anyway, I reckoned I'd just make the best of it, even if it's not exciting.

The night before the race, Mia and I were still packing all our stuff and we took such a long time doing that. We ended up having only 3 hours' sleep. On the race day, we took a shuttle bus from Hotel Megah D'Aru in Tanjung Aru town to the starting point somewhere near Kota Belud town.

Before the race started, the Race Director went through his checklist to ensure that all the participants were accounted for. He then flagged us off, and we started our journey on a gravel road through many villages. Contrary to what was thought at first, it became clear very soon after the flag off, that the gravel roads were made of hills—rolling hills—and some were ridiculously high.

I had estimated to arrive at the 50km point at 3pm at the latest based on the maps, but it soon dawned on me that I'd be lucky if I could do it by 5pm. I had no experience in trail running, and I'm also pathetically weak on hills; so for this particular event I had planned just to finish the race within the allocated 36 hours. Mia and Felice were also in the 100km category; so I promised to do the night trekking together with them. So one way or another, I would have to slow down to their pace.

Running the race from one checkpoint to another, as the event progressed, my respect for the organiser grew more and more. Looking at the race course as a whole, it had a blend of rolling hills on gravel roads; river crossing on hanging bridges, bamboo and wooden bridges, and even wading through waist-deep water. We had night trekking through dense hilly jungle on the Crocker Range on very slippery hill slopes in the rain. Very steep hills overlooking beautiful rivers way down below; and the majestic Mount Kinabalu on the east.

I had also expected an anti-climax finish from a Race Director who did not know much about organising this kind of event, thinking that we had to run miles and miles of boring gravel roads to a school field where we would simply claim our medals. Little did we know that Aman had a last challenge in store for us; it wasn't gonna be that easy to get the medals!

In the end, in spite of my earlier impression of Aman, now when I look back at the 100km gruesome challenge as a whole, I think he has set up a brilliant and well-planned race. Never have I felt challenged to this extreme before. It deserves international recognition. I can honestly say that it was indeed the most beautiful thing to me! For those who love the outdoor challenge—and if you're not faint-hearted—the 100km TMBT medal is something you must have in your collection!

I shouldn't forget the very dedicated medic team for having so much passion in their job; teams of volunteers who handled the numerous checkpoints, though I just wished that they could give us accurate information!

I must congratulate Aman and his team for doing a great job!

I will post the torture of running the race in the next post, so stay tuned!

100km Ultra Trail MarathonPre-Race

2011-11-04T17:38:00.002+08:00

Well, folks, most of you will remember that I have signed up for the 100km ultra trail marathon, dubbed The Most Beautiful Thing (TMBT). The event flags off tomorrow morning starting from one of the villages off Kota Belud, which is about an hour's bus ride from Kota Kinabalu.

Based on the race briefing last night at the Hotel Megah D'Aru, the route will involve a good dose of gravel roads, several river crossings (two will be on foot wading through waist-deep water); village trails, a bit of leech infested jungles high on the hills, trekking in the dark at temperature hovering around 15 degrees C. The organiser mentioned beautiful views of Mount Kinabalu.

In about 12 hours from now, I would be in a bus on my way to the starting line. I'll report on the trip when I return probably on Sunday evening. Wish me luck!

Train-Tanker Collision in Kapayan, KK

2011-11-01T22:46:00.002+08:00

When the train service resumed recently, I thought it's just a matter of time before a serious accident would happen. The railway should construct proper fencing and gates, as there were many junctions and crossings along that road.

True enough, yesterday evening, just before sunset, the train hit a fuel tanker, causing a big explosion. Apparently 12 people were reportedly (seriously) injured. I'm not sure how it happened exactly; but searching through the net for possible answers, I stumbled upon this video clip from youtube.

As you will notice, there is no valuable information to be had from the conversation that took place, but for whatever it's worth, I've taken note of the dialogue anyway. See what you make of it...

First woman: My goodness, besarnya...shit!

Second woman: Apa dia t'bakar tu?

First woman: Train 'yo, Oh! my God!... SHIT!!... it's a train; I don't know! *panting*...NO!...

*Crying; panting; confusing conversation*

First woman: Oh! my God!... Oh! my SHIT!!!...[insert Omaticaya's language here]

*More crying...*

First woman: NO!—Oh! my God! *yet more crying*...SHIT!!!

Second woman: Orang di dalam mati?

First woman: I don't know!...

Well, I did say that there's no valuable information to be had, didn't I?

Miri International Triathlon 2011Sprint Event

2011-10-31T20:06:00.021+08:00

It was shortly after running the Hong Kong Marathon last February when we were all in high spirit; most of us achieved our respective personal best times, thanks to the cold temperature. I was sharing a room with my friend, Andrew Voon. I was wondering what other sports we could do, when suddenly an idea struck me.

I suggested to Andrew that we should train up for a triathlon event and then surprise another friend, Teo Chen Lung, by signing up for the Port Dickson Triathlon without telling him beforehand. Although Andrew liked that idea, he said he was unable to make it, as the date clashed with his daughters' birthday. As an alternative, I suggested that we should do Miri Triathlon instead.

The plan was for us to keep all this to ourselves until the very last minute. We would train secretly and pretend that we're not joining the event; but we would go to Miri a day earlier and surprise Teo at the airport when he arrives. All this was because Teo had been pestering all his friends to join the triathlon, hence we gave him a nickname—Kipas King, based on the idea of using a fan to blow a charcoal into burning flames.

Once we've decided on Miri, and knowing that Teo was planning to compete in the relay event, I suggested to Andrew that we should form our own team so that we could go head to head against their team. Andrew was doubtful at first, saying that Teo would make sure that he selects the strongest in each discipline from among our friends. But I convinced Andrew that the point was not really about winning; rather, to surprise Teo at the airport and for the fun of it.

It was then that I decided to buy over Andrew's bike, a GIANT TCR, since he was already planning to buy a Cervelo roadie. The plan was that I would be the running anchor and Andrew should do the bike leg. I had my mind set on one of my staff who's a reasonably good swimmer. We would all do a sprint event apart from the relay.

Soon after we returned to KK, I bought Andrew's bike. But I did not start cycling until a few weeks after the Borneo International Marathon. Things were going as planned when we were all devastated by Andrew's death just a week before our trip to KL for the Standard Chartered KL Marathon. At first I was overwhelmed by sadness, and I abandoned the Miri plan. But a few weeks later, I revived the plan again; I decided to carry out the plan anyway in memory of Andrew. It was our last project together!

In the following months, Teo managed to convince many unlikely people to join him in Miri. He kipassed Judy to join the relay together with Ah Diong. Bob who did not know how to swim was also kipassed into cycling; and Kevin to run the 10km leg. But tried as hard as he could, I was adamant; no amount of kipas could make me say I'm going to Miri. I secretly enjoyed torturing Teo. In the last few weeks leading up to the event, Teo was even more aggressive in his kipassing, even to the extent of calling me names. I was enjoying every minute of it!

Actually, I had earlier on made room reservations, bought plane tickets and wrote secretly to the organiser, seeking his cooperation not to reveal my participation.

Last Friday, I sneaked out of KK to Miri on the 12:40pm flight. A few friends were also flying on Friday, so I had to plead with them to keep my secret too. That night I went to a bookstore to buy some stuff and then made a welcome placard. As late as Friday afternoon, Teo was still calling me chicken.

When Teo emerged from the arrival hall on Saturday morning, he saw a huge white display welcoming him; and the person holding that display was hidden behind. Teo was taken aback for a minute, and you can imagine his reaction when I finally lowered the cardboard to reveal myself!

Now, the sprint event was scheduled for 3pm that afternoon. I would have preferred to do the Olympic Distance. Unfortunately, I have also signed up for a 100km ultra trail marathon next weekend. So I did not think it's wise to tire out my body a week before that event. After assembling my bike, I went for a very short ride to ensure that all's in order.

While waiting for the event, we sat at the pool terrace chatting with each other. Teo was there sharing his valuable experiences from past triathlons he had joined. He said that at the start horn, he would prefer to wait till everyone is in the water, because he said he'd rather avoid all the stampede and kicking in the crowd. He said he could always try to overtake some of them later. Sounds like a logical plan to me, though I thought it didn't accord well with the kiasuness disease he's suffering from.

Since it was my very first triathlon event, I was kinda nervous—felt like I had butterflies in my stomach. We were all set to go at 3pm, but fate would have it that there was a road accident somewhere along the cycling route. So the organiser had no choice but to delay the flag off more than half an hour than originally planned.

Among those at the beach were Jack, and his wife, Jill, who flew all the way from Singapore to witness the excitement. They behaved every bit like a newlywed couple, when actually they have teenage children. I'm not sure what they were doing there at the beach, but I'm guessing they were just passing by on their way up the hill to fetch a pail of water?

After waiting for several minutes, we became somewhat restless. Amelia decided to do her wicked stretching routine...

While Anslem decided to amuse himself by playing with his left nipple...

But in the end the accident site on the road was cleared off and the race was duly started. Teo, Paul and I had decided to make a bet. Whoever comes last among the three of us should pay for lunch. Then a few seconds before the horn, Teo said, "OK, we stand in a straight line and start together." I thought that was very gentlemanly of him, still remembering that we were supposed to let all the other participants go off first.

At the sound of the start horn, I looked down to my stopwatch to start it; and when I looked up again, Teo was already galloping into the water a good 30 metres ahead. I have said it before, of course, kiasuness is a strange disease.

The current was quite strong on the way out; I had to work very hard against the current, as the longer I take to fight it, the longer I would have needed to swim. About 200 metres out, we made a turn to the right. Lots of kicking, and I received 3 blows to my face, not to mention the other kicks I got all over my body. But in the height of excitement, there was no pain at all.

It seemed like less than 10 minutes, but actually it was 16 minutes later when I finally emerged from the sea. By then, Teo was already out of the water and making his way to the transition area, which was at least 300 metres away on land.

I found myself gasping for air as I waded through several metres of knee-deep water; and running that 300 metres to my bike was the longest and most painful run I've had in a while.

Before reaching the transition area though, we passed the sprinkler which was, well, sprinkling pathetic amount of fresh water, as if some rats were pissing from the ceiling. Although it was my first outing, I pride myself with the efficient transition. By the time I reached my bike, my swimming cap and goggles were already off. I tossed them aside and grabbed my bib which was attached to a runner belt. Next came the shades, and then the helmet. Immediately after I put on the helmet, I took my bike off the railing, and off I went, pushing my bike with my right hand, and making final adjustments to my helmet and shades with my left hand. When I hit the bike mounting line, I stepped on my cycling shoes which were already attached to the pedals, and off I went. Upon reaching an appropriate pace on the highway, then I maneuvred to put my feet into my shoes and then continued cycling. The transition process itself was accomplished in under a minute (not counting the run from the water, of course).

As I was cruising on my bike, I decided to catch my breath, thus allowing some other participants to overtake me. But as I was approaching the first loop, I saw Teo coming from the opposite direction. Knowing that there's a hill coming very soon after the loop, I decided to play safe. I climbed the hill slow and steady, but was surprised when Anslem, Amelia and Paul came zooming past me halfway up the hill. But I stuck to my plan, thinking that I would catch up later.

Unfortunately, I could find no one to draft, and I ended up with a hard ride throughout. Paul and Anslem, I was given to understand, were able to draft each other. As I was approaching the final loop, Teo was already a few kilometres ahead from the opposite direction. Then I saw Anslem, Paul and Amelia. My heart sank, as it was clear that I would be the one paying for lunch! But giving up is not my kinda thing. Never ever give up, unless I'm in mortal danger of losing my life!

I think I must have been still climbing the hill on the return leg when Teo arrived at the transition area for the second time. Dismounting his mighty KUOTA, he made a quick transition for the running leg. He was followed by Paul and Amelia and Anslem.

I was still struggling on the hills when all this happened. It was such a relief when I finally reached the top of the hill. When I reached the bottom of the hill, I made the preparation for the final transition. Going at the pace of about 34km/h, I maneuvered to get my feet out of my shoes; and as I approached the transition area, I dismounted exactly at the dismount line.

The first thing I did when I reached my spot again, I threw my bike onto the railing. Then I slipped my feet into my running shoes and off I went. Unfortunately, it wasn't until a few metres later when I realised that I still had my helmet on! So I had to run back again and wasted precious seconds!

The first 500 metres of the running leg was a torture. My legs were just too stiff and would not cooperate to move. But later I found my rhythm. It's tough running in exhaustion; and it's even tougher running when you know you're already losing. But I kept going, and going, and going...

And then I saw Paul up ahead... walking! About 2km into the 5km run, I overtook Paul. A few hundred metres before reaching the loop, I saw Teo coming from the opposite direction. And shortly after, I saw Anslem and Amelia. I kept running anyway, but I knew it was too late to catch up.

John Chin, a friend I met a few times at the swimming pool, finished the race shortly before Teo.

Teo came in, and while making his final approach, was cheered on by Kevin.

Then the sexy couple Anslem and Amelia came in obscenely strong (Isn't there any rule against overly-sexy outfits?)

And then I came in like a representative of 2XU compression gears.

Paul had the honour of buying us lunch, and was pleased to finish his first ever sprint triathlon anyway.

And Claire came in strong with her long sexy legs and strikingly colourful running shoes.

And this, folks, is the newly inducted sprint triathlete. I still need to work on developing some muscles to be a more convincing triathlete. I suppose I can start working on that for the next event!

1:21:44 for a 750m swim, 20km cycling and 5km run. Gotta find ways to improve that!

Kinabalu Cycling Challenge 2011

2011-10-31T17:14:00.007+08:00

I really should be blogging about the Miri International Triathlon, but I promised Teo that I'd post about the Kinabalu Cycling Challenge (KCC) 2011 first. So here goes nothing.

The KCC 2011 was held on 18 September. I woke up at about 5:30am to find that it was raining. Looking out from my bedroom window, I saw the wet road outside; and I wondered if the event would still proceed as planned. I thought it would. So I changed into my cycling gear, loaded my bike into my truck and headed out to Taman Awam, the venue of KCC.

When I reached the park, there was already a big crowd there, and I had to park my truck along the highway. My cyclist friends were already there; and they gave a short exclamation upon seeing my arrival.

I'm relatively new to the sport, having bought a secondhand bike from my friend Andrew Voon just a couple of months ago, after the Borneo International Marathon 2011. Since then, I have been cycling about once a week on Saturdays. However, because of other commitments, I was unable to go cycling on some Saturdays.

The other guys in my group are seasoned cyclists, and I have to admit that I've learnt quite a thing or two from them. I did not think I could win the KCC—far from it! But as in any other sports that I have joined before, I would be all out to do my best. However, I secretly entertained the idea of trying to beat at least my friend Teo Chen Lung, since he had only started cycling about a year earlier than me. I thought I could hope to beat him, but not those with many years of cycling experience.

Before the flag off, as usual we were busy preparing safety nets as a precautionary step for possible bad performance. Alex was saying that he had just gone training together with Bob at the mountain two days prior to the race; so his legs were still tired. And he had very little sleep the night before. Teo and I were saying we're just hoping not to finish last. A bit of pain and discomforts here and there—just in case we did end up last anyway!

The mountain bike category went off first; and then five minutes later, it was the road bike category. I felt a bit awkward to start racing at the age of 46, and I made sure that I started way at the back of the pack where hardly anyone would notice me. But Teo was still not done with his safety net thing—he started about a metre behind me. According to him, just in case he's the last to finish, at least he had the excuse that he started last anyway. Kiasuness—as you might have realised by now—is a strange disease, you see.

At the back of my mind, I knew that Teo's KUOTA was a much more superior bike than my GIANT TCR. Remembering that he's younger, bigger built and more experienced than I was, I didn't have much hope of beating him. But then again, my regular readers would know that I am also a greedy fellow when it comes to these things. I can't resist the challenge, you see.

I started the race with an average of 32-33km/h, which could be considered very slow for a race. But I had to be careful not to overdo it, bearing in mind that we're racing 100km, and we had to pass several small hills along the way.

All the time, I kept track of Teo's position. I couldn't afford to let him out of my sight. Going up the hill heading to Sepangar Port, I picked up a bit of speed; and as I decended the hill, I saw the rest of my cycling friends on their return leg from Sepangar. I kept my pace steady, although I slowed down a bit as I climbed the hill again before entering the Nexus Karambunai road. It was around then that I took an energy gel.

The internal road leading to Karambunai was quite rough, and that was very unfriendly to the road bike. At the end of that road, we made a sharp turn at the loop and made our way back to the Sepangar road again. By then I could feel a little bit of exhaustion building up in my thighs, although it was still bearable. Shortly after the loop, on my way back, I saw Teo charging from the opposite direction, followed shortly by Derek.

I was expecting Teo to come surging ahead at Jalan Sepangar, but he didn't. I was tempted to increase my pace, but remembered that we still had many more kilometres ahead, I carefully refrained from speeding up.

Well, I went on to Salut, crossing the long Mengkabong Bridge. And then as I was approaching the round about before entering Jalan Serusup, I was beginning to worry that Teo had still not caught up. I began to suspect that he had some sort of trick up his sleeve. I slowed down a bit and ate a banana, followed shortly later with another energy gel. I was beginning to feel tired, but I kept going behind two other cyclists who had also slowed down to about 25km/h.

At about Km50 of the race route, Teo finally emerged from behind, overtaking us. I stepped on my pedals and caught up with Teo and followed him from behind, entering the loop, going through some rough patches. Teo ate an energy gel, and then turning to me, he announced that we had reached Km60. I was of course already tired by then, and my quads were burning, but if I had any dreams to beat Teo, I would have to start attacking soon. I knew that Teo had the habit of sprinting back to Likas at the Indah Permai traffic lights. If I allowed him to reach that point together, it would be all over for me!

It was shortly after that that Teo suggested that we should draft each other; and I obliged. This thing about drafting is an excellent idea—both of us could benefit in the sense that we could take turns resting. However, when we reached Km65, it became clear that it was time for me to step up the pace again.

Teo slowed down to drink while I was ahead. I upped my pace and started to build up the gap between us. After a while I looked back and saw Teo perhaps 100 metres behind me. I took the opportunity to eat a banana, and then swiftly resume building up my pace again.

Coming out Jalan Serusup and after passing the roundabout, I maintained 33-34km/h, thus leaving Teo further and further behind. But I knew that he would come surging again very soon. He had the habit of letting his rivals lead before he attacks at the Indah Permai traffic lights. I thought if I could build up sufficient lead by the time I approach Indah Permai, maybe I had a chance to struggle to keep up the pace. The finish would be close no doubt.

I pushed through the Mengkabong Bridge, through several more hills, passing Salut, all the way to Indah Permai. At the traffic lights, I turned back and was happy to find that Teo was there. Getting out of my saddle, I climbed that hill, and then zoomed down the other side, cycling with the heavy gear, building up speed up to 54km/h, although for a few seconds only. As I said, kiasuness is a very strange disease—it can make you do things you never knew you could do!

When I approached the Yayasan Sabah Bridge, I looked back once again. Teo was nowhere to be seen. It was then that I realised that the unthinkable could happen after all. Thus encouraged, I started pounding on the pedals again. So much worked had gone into the last 30km, it would have been a shame if I let it all go to waste. I made my way to the Likas mosque, then the Wisma Perindustrian roundabout, making the final loop and finally approaching the finish line.

When I reached Taman Awam again, I had cramps in both my quads. I had to ask for a friend's assistance to get off my bike. I then sat at the curb for a bit to loosen up my muscles before finally joining the rest of them who had finished the race a good 10-15 mins earlier.

Teo arrived about 5 minutes later. It turned out that he, too, suffered cramps in his legs. So it was my lucky day. If he did not suffer cramps, there was no way I could dream of beating him. But then, y'know, it's all in the game! (smile)

Well, no one in our team won anything that day, except that Robert won a lucky draw, courtesy, I believe, of Hyatt Regency Hotel. In the end, I still consider it a fruitful outing, as it was a valuable experience.

Well, one more last pose before we went home that day.

Now a bit of comment for the organiser—the event was awfully organised. The marshals did not know what they were doing. According to the rules, no support vehicles were allowed. Yet the winning team had support vehicles all the way throughout. I doubt that I could win the race anyway, had the rules been adhered to, but maybe some of the other strong cyclists might have a shot at it.

Now perhaps I should refrain from competing next year to deny Teo of the chance for revenge!? (Go on, Teo, call me chicken!)

Tragedy & Blessings In DisguisePart 2

2011-10-23T11:01:00.012+08:00

Mom has been working on a jigsaw puzzle of a beautiful family picture over the last 35 years. She has seen the complete picture in her dreams way too many times over the years. Yet because of a single missing piece of the puzzle that she had lost a long time ago, she was unable to complete the picture. No other piece could fit in that hole in the middle of the puzzle.

Fate would have it that that missing piece which would fit the hole perfectly had gone through too many rough rides throughout the years, rendering it suffering chips and distortions around its edges. When mom finally found that missing piece after a very long search, it was heart-breaking to discover that it no longer could fit perfectly into its original space.

Flora, though blood and flesh of the Koh family, is in reality a total stranger to us; we knew next to nothing about her. However, when my sisters established contact with her a couple of months ago, all of us were excited by the prospect of seeing mom completing her jigsaw puzzle. And it's about time too!

It didn't take me very long to get to know Flora. Well, at least for the things that mattered. She put up in my house during her one-week visit together with her children; and I had glimpses of her attitudes and characteristics.

Flora was—and still is—for the most part, a very frustrated and angry little girl. Yes, I see her as just a "little girl" (even though she is 38) whose driving passion in life is hatred against almost everybody around her. She is essentially a mentally-disturbed child whose universe revolves around herself; and only around herself. For her miserable failures in life, she blames everybody—her foster parents, her in-laws, even her husband, and ultimately, mom. The only person she forgets to blame is herself. She is a child who has long ago lost track of reality and can never proceed beyond the first chapter in the book of life.

Throughout her life, she has never forgiven mom. And she's been waiting patiently for the opportunity to strike back with her might. That opportunity presented itself when my sisters played into her hands by initiating the move to establish contact.

Flora played her part all too well—she's the victim of circumstances. She grew up in a home of wicked foster parents. And now that she has found us, she's looking forward to find love and support from us.

But alas, the kind of "love and support" that Flora has in mind is the kind seen in Anakku Sazali. It's unconditional love of the purest form that she's seeking. She expects us to support her husband even though he's a drug trafficker; she expects us to support her affair with a man 10-years younger than her, while her husband rots in jail. But we will not have any of it.

And so in the end Flora showed her true colours. Over the phone one day, she vented her anger bottled up from all these years. She blames mom for her failures. In fact she told mom she doesn't want to ever see her again.

And at this juncture, knowing that many of my nephews and nieces are reading this, let me give you all a special advice, kids; it's the same kind of advice I gave your uncle Dennis a while ago:

When all you've got in your life are your two balls, try not to make more enemies. It is always a better idea to have more friends than enemies.

I'm thinking maybe Flora could use the same advice too.

Mom has led a simple life. In a way, I suppose one might say that she's had a rotten luck, really. Of all the men out there, she fell in love with and then married the Playboy. That marriage didn't work out though; and I'm happy that it didn't. In fact, I see it as a blessing in disguise for obvious reason!

As cruel as this may sound, in spite of all that mom had gone through in life, I think God has been kind to her; He made mom give Flora away all those years ago. For she did not deserve to suffer the heartaches of seeing an evil child around her. She's been spared the torture for 35 years. Yes, I do see it as a blessing in disguise.

Tragedy & Blessings In DisguisePart 1

2011-10-22T21:23:00.005+08:00

It’s been almost 2 months since Typhoon Diana arrived around the end of August. And this morning we saw her off at the airport for a long journey home to Vancouver, Canada. Lots of tears in the dying minutes over breakfast at the airport; and sad to say that those were not happy tears—quite on the contrary, very, very sad tears.

Regular readers of this blog will remember, of course, that mom has a curious tendency to leave a trail of destruction each time she leaves after her visit; hence “Typhoon Diana”. During mom’s last visit, the drama centred around Dennis. I was secretly hoping for this visit to be different for a change, but of course that’s just too much to hope for.

Unfortunately, what seemed to be a promising start for a happy ending, had all the ingredients of a disaster-waiting-to-happen. The clashes of personalities and events unfolding in a dramatic fashion which completely obliterated any hope of a happy ending.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here. To really understand the characters in this real life drama, it is necessary for us to travel back in time to a good 35 years ago. That is the proper beginning of this journey of how destiny had taken a cruel turn in one of those saddest tragedies of this world.

On the one hand, we have a divorcee who had to support 3 of her 6 children with her job as a maid. At times, her brother helped her financially, but because both siblings were not highly educated, there was only so much they could earn from their respective jobs. Needless to say, there were times when it became quite a challenge even to put three square meals on the table.

It soon became clear that she could not possibly afford to support all her children, so she had to make the painful decision to give away the youngest child, who was then only 3 years old, to a distant relative. It was a decision that kept haunting her for the rest of her life; and over the years she attempted to win back custody of that child to no avail. The feeling of guilt and sadness of that decision would never free her completely to redeem total happiness in her life.

On the other hand, we have a child who, at the age of 3, was suddenly thrown into the home of strangers. I would imagine it must have been very traumatic for the child during the first few weeks, months, or even years. And then what happened to her after that was unclear to the rest of the family, as her foster parents were extremely careful to prevent any contact between her and her biological family. Words had it that she was the black sheep of the family; she always got into trouble in school. In fact, she grew up to be a problematic kid. She was never any good in school, thus failing her SPM. But her foster parents took the trouble to forge the results somehow in order to help her secure a job.

She then married a man in a foreign country and had 2 children of her own. But by then, her relationship with her foster parent had become so bad that they were no longer on talking terms.

Somehow, her husband got into trouble with the long arm of the law and ended up in jail. She doesn’t get along very well with her in-laws. And of course before long, another man came along to fill in the shoes of her husband. Her life was obviously in a mess, although apparently, she did not realise it herself.

From far across the ocean, in Vancouver, Canada, mom heard about what happened between Flora and her foster mother. For 35 years, she’s been harbouring hope against all odds that she’d once again see the day when her long-lost child of 35 years ago would find her way home. Last year mom cheated death when doctors found and then removed a tumour from her uterus. Perhaps this is karma—perhaps her second chance to redeem herself has finally come after a 35-year wait? And hard upon that, when news of Flora’s husband got to mom, her motherly instinct suddenly took the driver’s seat. In the subsequent weeks and months, contacts were made with Flora, culminating in her visit to KK to meet us siblings for the first time in decades.

I don’t know if it was instinct, or because of something in her behaviour, but from the very first time I laid eyes on Flora, I did not buy her sob stories; far from it! There was an air of—how do you say it—artificialness in her; I just couldn’t tell exactly what, if you know what I mean. Perhaps it’s paranoia; maybe it’s all just my imagination, but I told my sisters to be careful not to believe her 100%.

Well, anyway, soon it was time for mom’s arrival, and the scene was set for a dramatic reunion. For the first time in 35 years we achieved the impossible feat—we managed to assemble all of us siblings together to celebrate mom’s birthday. We decided to have it at my place.

As we were about to start, mom pulled me aside and said she’d like to make a speech. Caught me by surprise it did. Clearing my throat, I called for everyone’s attention, announcing that mom would like to deliver a speech. Bear in mind that none of us saw this coming. So everyone gathered obediently around mom. There was dead silence—you could hear a pin drop—as mom produced a piece of paper she’d prepared from her pocket with an air of nail-biting suspense. Unfolding the paper, she started reading.

I cringed at the sight of mom reading, especially when she’s doing it without her glasses. Elsewhere in this blog, I’ve described how mom is never a very detailed person. She is one of those creatures who’d describe herself as a “homo”, when trying to tell others that she’s reached menopause; or say a foreign-sounding word, “calleb”, which means “collapse”. She wouldn’t even realise it if she’d read “circumstances” as “circumcisions”. But in the end, I’m pleased to say that she did a good job. The essence of her speech was of course centred around her elation of finally finding her long-lost child again after 35 years. And I have to admit that it brought a lump to my throat too. I think Audrey was complaining that mom’s speech messed up her mascara. Well, at the end of the speech, mom was accorded with a big round of applause. It was clear that everyone shared her joy that night.

Well, I'd say that it was a successful birthday party. But little did we know the storm that's brewing on the horizon...

Coming Back Soon...

2011-10-20T20:49:00.002+08:00

It's been quite a while since the last time I updated this blog. Those of you who've sent me text messages and emails, or those who asked me directly in the street, let me hasten to assure you that I'm still alive and well!

I somehow did not have the mood to blog due to numerous reasons. But a major part of it was because I've been spending more time training for some sporting events in the following weeks. I have, still, a 100km ultra trail marathon in November; and a full marathon in Macau in December.

I've also been thinking seriously about some of the issues running through my mind—whether or not I want to blog about them. You see, it concerns people and clashes of personalities. Some of my thoughts are rather unpleasant; and most of you who've been following this blog would know that I am direct, and quite often brutal in the way I express myself!

Well, y'know what, I've decided to blog after all, but it has to be over this weekend; a good story deserves to be told in its entirety. I'll be back again!

History & Fairytale

2011-09-14T22:33:00.005+08:00

History has it that about 1400 years ago, a famous conqueror invaded a tribe during a war. Many people were killed. Those who survived the war were held captive by the invading army. Among them was a 17-year old girl known for her beauty. Her father who was the chief of the tribe, and her husband were both killed in battle. She was about to be taken as a slave when her beauty was brought to the conqueror's attention. The 60-year old conqueror offered to marry her, thus escaping the fate of becoming a slave. So she chose to marry the 60-year old man. It was said that although she was angry at the conqueror at first, she eventually forgave him; in fact greatly respected him later.

Now, 1400 years later, upon reading that story, I can't help but have doubts of its accuracy. For that history does not resemble anything like any human behaviour at all. It is beyond my imagination that a 17-year old girl whose father and husband had been killed by an invading army would eventually marry the leader of that army—a man old enough to be her grandfather. It is beyond me that the 17-year old girl would climb into bed to sleep with that man. I can't help but think the circumstances leading to the marriage had elements of force in it. But what do I know about history—I'm not a historian; I'm only relying on a bit of common sense and knowledge of human nature.

The thing about history is that many, many years ago, people who were supposed to have witnessed those events when it happened, put them down in writing according to what they saw with their own eyes. Or failing which they would rely on information they gathered from a third party who were supposed to have been eye-witnesses of those events. That sounds like a fair deal to me.

But how does one see the contents of the heart and mind? How can one be sure that a 17-year old girl, whose father and husband had been killed by the enemy, genuinely forgave the perpetrator and actually had great respect for him?

Was it really history or just a fairytale arising from a true event which we wish had happened according to how it was told?

Sometimes, it is possible that we are told things from our very early childhood—things that we have no means of verifying so that we rely totally on those who had originally told the story. Except that what would happen if some other people would come up with a different version of the story which changes the earlier version completely? How would we react?

Well, since a favourite pastime of Malaysians is lodging police reports, that's one of the first things they would do, as can be seen recently when the Mohd Sabu chap had a different version of the Bukit Kepong tragedy several decades ago.

I'm neither for nor against Sabu's version, as to be honest, I know hardly anything about the event! But I must admit that his version of the history does not accord well with what many people have been programmed to believe. The subconscious mind is programmed into believing that communists can never be heroes. And so Sabu's version can't possibly be right, no matter what. How many people would actually sit back, keep an open mind, and spare just a few minutes to listen to Sabu justifying his case? I doubt that there are very many.

Most of us are quite unwilling to listen and consider the opposing version. We prefer to believe in the version which we wish to be the truth, but not really wanting to know the truth...

Parental Instinct & Harsh World

2011-09-06T21:03:00.003+08:00

For the most part of my early childhood, my parents were hardly ever around. I was one of those people who grew up without the luxury of experiencing love from their parents. Worse, the people whom we ended up living with were not very generous with love. Instead, life was something akin to slavery.

I had a long history of ugly childhood which I'd rather erase from my mind, but the human brain is a strange recording instrument—I have often wondered, at times I have a hard time recollecting events which have taken place only a week or two ago; yet I can remember vividly the events—as ugly as they may be—from all those years ago. I have shared bits and pieces of them at one time or another, here in this blog; but it's not exactly my favourite topic.

Against such background, one would be fast to dismiss me as a person who is unqualified to talk about parenting. But please bear with me for a minute...

Events over the recent days have inspired me to put my fingers onto my keyboard to share my thoughts about parenthood. The thing about being a parent is that there is that instinct to love and protect one's offspring. In some ways, even animals have that instinct.

When I was a small boy, I could hardly ever get the things that I wanted—I longed for love, and I got very little of it, if any; I yearned for toys, and I got hardly any. And as for the things that I did get, I had to strive really hard to earn them. But maybe that was a blessing in disguise; it made me see life in a peculiar way—that one should learn to strive and earn the things one wants.

I love my daughter with all my heart, and I make sure that she knows that I love her dearly. But while it's so tempting to shower her with all the things she wants, I refrain from granting her all her wishes, even if I could afford to. I practise the reward system; she has to earn them! So she got her PlayStation recently, but only after she got first in class. And in some cases, a "no" means "no", no matter what. Therefore, she is not ready to own a mobile phone, even if she gets first in class.

I see people trying so hard to demonstrate their love for their children by granting them all that they ask for. The kids always get what they want! And when they can't get what they want, even the parents will be sad!

I know that is probably parental instinct on auto pilot, but although I don't claim to be an expert in parenting, I don't believe that is the right method to bring up a child. Unfortunately, life is not always a bed of roses. Along the way, there will inevitably be some rough patches, like it or not, and the sooner these kids learn that fact, the better off they are! It doesn't mean that if the parents do not grant the wishes of their children, then they love their children any less.

Seeing the children playing in a group, I couldn't help noticing that one of them had the tendency to dictate what game to play, when to play it, and how to play it. And when the rest in the group disagreed, not only the dictator was disappointed, but even the parents were disappointed too!

In a perfect world, perhaps it's possible to get everything that one wants; everyone obeys one's wishes without question; everything is black and white, cut and dried, exactly like how one wants it to be...

But alas this is not a perfect world; one doesn't always get what one wants; people don't always agree with one's views; they don't always obey one's wishes. There will be disappointments upon disappointments. I think it is just impossible to protect one's child from such reality of life.

So I think if you really love your children, then please do them a favour; expose them to this harsh cruel world and watch from afar. When they fall, help them back to their feet if you can; for as long as you can. Pray that they will become strong individuals. For I say this solemnly—retreating them back into their world of pretense where everything is perfect will surely backfire in the long run. One of these days, that world will come crumbling down, and all that's left is the harsh reality that they will have to face somehow...

Trail RunningBack-To-Back Training Part 3

2011-09-02T10:52:00.017+08:00

I woke up with extremely sore legs at about 5:30am. I had a solid 6-hour sleep, but it felt like just 3 hours. I could hear the raindrops on the metal roof. For a brief moment, I considered going back to sleep. But I received a text message from Esther, asking me if we're still on for jungle trekking. I in turn texted Liaw, asking him for decision; and he replied that we should all go to the meeting place in Donggongon before we can decide. This was the second day of a back-to-back trail training (30th & 31st August).

I arrived in Donggongon at about 7am and found Liaw and Esther waiting in front of the public library. It was still drizzling, but we decided that we should still proceed with the programme anyway. Some people, as expected, did not turn up, while others went straight to the starting point at the Kibambangan Water Resort.

In the end only Liaw and I were from the original group of trekkers the day before. The rest of them from Part 2 had opted either to rest, or to continue their training at the Bukit Padang hills. Almost immediately after we started, I could feel my quads burning up. I thought I would soon get the cramps. Thankfully, however, shortly before we started it stopped raining. We went up the steep path as usual, but when we reached the dirt road, it was exceptionally slippery.

Liaw was soon ahead of the rest, but Tania was tagging along. I could still remember that during one of the previous trips, I ended up walking alone with Tania from Terian. And I told her that "I suck on the hills". I meant that in a slang way, of course, so I hope she didn't misunderstand me—that I meant "suck" literally. Obviously, I had no intention of sucking any part of a woman's body on the hills, but, y'know, sometimes figures of speech can be quite mind-boggling.

Anyway, to continue with the story, we remained mostly together in a group, except for Lawrence, the forestry fellow who was terribly out of shape for this trip. I was for the most part walking together with Esther, Velerie and her sister, Judy, the self-proclaimed "biasa punya doctor".

A little over two hours later, Tania emerged from the opposite direction. She had only planned to trek up the hills for about two hours before turning back. The rest of us continued up the hills and finally reached the top at Pondok Tinipot where we rested while waiting for Lawrence.

We spent quite some minutes at the pondok, and Esther took the time to amuse herself with this colourful bug.

When Lawrence finally arrived, complaining about cramps and aching knees, we proceeded on the trail and then began descending to Terian shortly after. A little while later, Liaw, Esther and Judy left Velerie, Lawrence and I behind. The three of us were doing a nice comfortable pace when suddenly Lawrence, with his keen eyes, suddenly stopped when he saw this hardly-visible frog. If I were alone, I doubt that I would spot this creature, but now that it has been brought to my attention, I, too, spent a few moments observing it. To be honest, I can't see anything special about it, except that perhaps it has a striking resemblance with Bernard Dompok.

Further down the path, while we were doing a good brisk-walking pace, Lawrence suddenly stopped and told us to go ahead, saying that he needed to rest his legs for a bit. So Velerie and I went ahead; and I carefully refrained from telling Velerie that "I suck on the hills".

Well, I thought Velerie was doing great going downhills, and I found myself doing almost my racing pace keeping up with her! Eventually, we arrived at the stream where we had to cross by leaping onto boulders. Velerie decided to play safe and avoided risking falling off the mossy rocks by simply wading through the stream. I tried to balance on the rocks, but slipped and ended up soaking both feet in the water too.

We climbed a hill and reached the top where we could get a panoramic view of Terian.

Crossing the hanging bridge. We saw Liaw and the two girls waiting under a tree. We spent perhaps 15 minutes or so waiting for Lawrence. It was about 12:15pm then. We were beginning to get worried for Lawrence when he suddenly appeared from across the other side of the bridge.

We made our way to the top of a hill where lunch had been arranged. We took off our wet shoes and socks and dried them in the sun. And then while we were waiting for lunch to be served, a female cat which was pathetically in heat was going around, crying meow-meow, pleading for someone to relieve her urge! And just so that we are clear about the word "heat", I didn't mean heat as the one below as recommended by John Chin for this trip!

Anyway, Esther gave the poor cat a stroke on its head and she absolutely got a kick out of it. Ummm... I mean the cat got a kick, not Esther (no, I couldn't tell for sure whether Esther was also in heat then). But after a while, when nobody could do anything more for the cat, it finally decided to hit on our wet shoes. Damn!... where are the male cats when you need them to do their job?

After waiting for a few minutes, we all sat down to a glorious lunch. Very simple dishes but they all tasted so good, as can be seen from Liaw's gesture below.

It's hard to believe that such simple and good lunch came from this stove in the kitchen.

Throughout lunch, we could still hear the poor cat crying meow-meow. After lunch we spent a few more minutes resting. Finally, at about 1:30pm, we started our return journey to Kibambangan. I was fairly impressed with the girls, crossing the bridge—or what's left of it—with no sign of fear at all!

As usual, the climb from Terian to the midway shelter was very punishing; but especially so for one who has done another trip the previous day. I thought we were gonna get caught in the rain, but we survived the whole trip without any rain.

Somewhere in the middle of the jungle, the girls suddenly walked a little faster, and I followed suit. In fact, after a while, I decided to overtake them. I don't know if it was the glorious lunch in Terian, or was it because I couldn't wait to get home in the hope of finding Mia behaving like the Terian cat, but I reached the clearing at a little after 4pm. From that point it would take only an hour, give and take, to reach Kibambangan.

We arrived back in Kibambangan around 5:30pm, but we had to wait for Lawrence who was suffering from severe cramps. In the end the girls managed to get hold of him on the phone. It was fast getting dark; Velerie and Judy, and I decided to make our move, whereas Liaw and Esther waited for Lawrence.

Well, two days of madness. I think I must have burnt at least 5000 calories over the two-day workout. It was truly an amazing workout, but in the end I am still alive, though perhaps not exactly kicking because my legs are just sore beyond words.

Trail RunningBack-To-Back Training Part 2

2011-09-01T10:42:00.027+08:00

I suppose it was just a matter of time, but because some of us signed up for the 100km ultra trail marathon this coming November, we had to accumulate sufficient mileage during training. It seemed somewhat impossible to find the time and proper training ground to achieve the total 100km, but we reckoned that we could at least come a little closer to that distance. To do this, we had to organise a two-day back-to-back jungle trekking session between the now familiar Kibambangan Water Resort and Terian.

Those of you who've not been following this blog, it's still not to late to follow the reports on past outings here and here.

A bit of clarification before I proceed with this report though. The title above, i.e. Part 2, may be a bit misleading. This trip on the 30th of August, was actually the fourth outing; not the second. Before that we've been up there in the jungle 3 times already. However, it wasn't until our third outing that we decided to set up a facebook group for training, and then invited others to join us. That first outing which was opened to others was then referred to as Part 1, and this outing therefore became Part 2. Part 3 (to be reported in the next post), though can be considered as an independent one on its own, should have been a continuation for a two-day back-to-back training for those who signed up for the 100km ultra trail marathon.

The crowd was much smaller than the previous one. It was after all the Hari Raya holiday. Most of those who were present were familiar faces, but we also had some new faces—Eric, a frequent adiNation runner who was up to some interesting new experience in the hills; Laurel, the chap who wore a pair of tights which attracted not only the girls', but also the men's attention; and Laurel's dad, who turned up and behaved more like a tourist rather than a jungle trekker.

Before we started, as usual we spent a bit of time chatting with each other while making last-minute checks on our backpacks. Teo, the most decorated trekker of 'em all, was also there. Except "decorated" in this case did not mean decorated as in a soldier awarded with war medals of honour. In this case, Teo was decorated with all his state-of-the-art equipment. Jonas unveiled his new hydration apparatus comprising a camel bak pack with a 1.5 litre bladder and two front pouches each holding a 750ml water bottle. I could see Teo just itching to outdo Jonas.

I think Dr Soma surprised everybody when he turned up, despite having suffered a severe cramp during the last trip and had to turn back long before reaching Terian. In fact, as if wanting to make a big impression, he turned up with a brandnew striking pink hat! Check out this photo below where Soma, the guy devoid of muscles is standing beside Boyd, the guy who's everything about muscles.

Judy took the opportunity to take a picture with Stephenie and Laurel. And at this point, just a friendly advice to the girls not to spend too much time looking at Laurel's amazing tights.

Some of us had a bit of time for some laughs too (check out Jonas' water bottles).

Group photos before we started the torture.

A few minutes after starting the journey, we took a short break in the jungle. By then Stephenie, Laurel and John Chin and the rest of the leading pack had already rushed up the hills. Stephenie and Laurel had intended to only do a 40-minute run before turning back. She's scheduled to fly to China on 1 September for a 300-km eco-race comprising 10 disciplines, so this was just "light" workout for her.

Upon reaching the dirt road, we started the climb. I had felt great then, but had to control my excitement from rushing up the hills. I had to keep reminding myself that there're still many more kilometres to cover not only that day, but also the following day.

However, a part of the training was also to keep a minimal pace to ensure that I can finish the race in November within the allocated 36 hours. So a few minutes later, I was already gradually leaving the pack behind together with Judy.

And then suddenly, we heard a kind of stampede from over the hill. We thought a herd of karabaus were coming our way. But then Stephenie and Laurel emerged and running from the opposite direction in annoyingly relaxed fashion. And I have to shamefully admit that instead of looking at Stephenie's fit body, my eyes were again drawn to Laurel's tights (Damn, am I absolutely nuts?).

I somehow had the impression that John was supposed to go all the way to Terian and Buayan with the rest of us. So I was fairly surprised to see him walking back not too long after Stephenie and Laurel.

Well, Judy and I walked together for a little longer up to the hut at the end of the clearing. Then I decided to increase my pace. I stepped into the jungle and pulled ahead of Judy soon after. For the rest of the journey I was walking alone. It was kinda weird—and boring—to walk alone for hours

I reached Terian about 3 hours later, crossed the hanging bridge, and then found myself not knowing where to go to next. I spent some minutes asking for direction to Buayan. I was finally directed to a steep hill akin to the Gunting Lagadan-Sayat-Sayat climb. That absolutely drained all my energy. But the good news was that after about half an hour's climb, I reached a moderately flat terrain. Shortly after that, I came to a camp where a man was busy chopping firewoods together with his wife and two young boys who probably forgot to put on their pants that morning. I stopped for a minute to ask about Buayan. He said, Buayan was about 2 hours away.

I continued along that path and was a bit worried that I was soon going downhill for some 2.5km. I was still thinking of the punishment of having to climb the hill on my way back when I came to a stream. I carefully made my way down to the stream and then suddenly realised that I had probably just enough time to return to Terian for the 12:30pm lunch as planned. And so I started the 2.5km climb, all the time thinking what the hell am I doing in this jungle alone on Hari Raya, when I could be enjoying a bunch of kuih mur at home!

Well, I made it back to Terian at about 12:45pm. And just a minute or two after my arrival, Boyd had also arrived from Buayan. I found out later that I was a mere 20 minutes away from Buayan from that stream. But just about then, the other group comprising Dr Helen, Judy, Teo and Mia were already done with lunch and were about to embark on their return journey to Kibambangan. Dr Soma had started back even earlier than them.

As we were eating, one by one the rest arrived from Buayan. Liaw arrived with a bright smile on his face. Jonas suffered a cramp in his calf. His 3 litres of water was not enough to support the entire journey to Buayan after all, and Dr Liaw had to ask for some water from the villagers there. I wondered how would it be like for a white man to ask for drinking water from the villagers. That would have been a pretty sight to watch... y'know, like chicken and duck talking to each other? Anyway, Eric was the last to arrive from Buayan, and he, too, suffered cramps in his legs.

I lingered on for a little longer. And then at about 1:50pm, about 40 minutes after Dr Helen's group left, I started off for Kibambangan, leaving the rest behind. The last I saw them, they were still enjoying lunch.

The climb from Terian to the top of the hill was so punishing that I had to walk very slowly. All the while, I had to keep reminding myself of another workout along this same route the following day. As I had expected, it began to rain heavily and the path became slippery, thus slowing me down substantially. But it stopped after about an hour.

I walked alone all the way until about 30 minutes before reaching Kibambangan when I caught up with Mia again. By then Boyd had overtaken me and finally finished a few minutes before us.

Dr Helen, Judy and Teo had arrived a few minutes earlier.

It was quite a relief to complete the workout, but we were conscious of more punishment to come the following day.

After a short rest, we went down to the stream to dip our feet in the water. Then as Judy was about to take this shot, Helen suddenly used her hands to cover her midsection. I don't know if that was to cover her tattoos. And speaking of tattoo, I have posted about it here, so I'll carefully refrain from repeating it lah.

Then suddenly we were wondering what had happened to Dr Soma. He started ahead of us all, but yet had not arrived. Then Liaw arrived and said that he overtook Soma a few kilometres back. We kept an eye on the other side of the hanging bridge, and every time we heard or saw people coming, we thought it was Soma. But each time we were wrong, until finally when we saw that grand pink hat bobbing from afar. Finally, the skeleton arrived and crossed the bridge in triumphant fashion.

But that was not the end of the story. Jonas arrived with his bottles on his chest, but no one knew where's Eric. He complained of having cramps and went slower than the rest. It was fast approaching 6pm and getting dark soon. We tried desperately to call him. We wondered if he was in some kind of trouble in the jungle and contemplated a search and rescue mission. Helen addressed us and asked if any of us would like to volunteer going up the hills again in search of poor Eric. I could see a flicker of excitement in Teo's eyes, and I could've sworn that he would offer to run up the hills to Eric. But instead, he shook his head!

Finally Boyd was able to get through to him. Eric, with his legs almost failing him, had somehow ended up at the Inobong Sub-Station some miles away. Liaw drove his car there to fetch him and brought him back to Kibambangan again where he parked his car.

It was also around then that Helen, Judy and Teo decided that they have had enough trauma for now, and opted not to do another trip to Terian the next day. Maybe they have become mentally unhinged because of the experience. They said they would rather go to Bukit Padang the next day. Come to think of it now, I'm not sure if they meant Taman Tun Fuad Stephens in Bukit Padang; or was it the Mental Hospital in Bukit Padang for treatment.

When we left Kibambangan, the Part 3 of the training scheduled for the following day was doubtful. Everyone was tired. But all I could think of was to go home to a hot shower and a big meal. I wondered what the next day would bring us...

The Typhoon Returns...

2011-08-24T12:55:00.002+08:00

It's been about one-and-a-half years since the last time Typhoon Diana struck, and wrecked havoc in Kota Kinabalu with its mighty force. The turbulance went on for a few months, and by the time the typhoon subsided, we sort of went through a period of healing while picking up the pieces.

As a matter of routine, Mom would come to visit us every couple of years in between her holidays to Reno or Vegas to visit her friends—the one-arm bandits. But last year she had a bit of rough times when her doctors found a tumour the size of a tennis ball in her uterus. We dreaded for the worst, but a surgery to remove the tumour was successful far beyond expectation.

So at about 11am this Sunday, the typhoon will be arriving in Kota Kinabalu again. According to the programme, Taman Sinar Bukit will be the first stopover—probably for a week or two, before my other siblings take over the task of containing the typhoon in their respective homes.

So I suppose this Saturday will be a spring cleaning day for me. I'm not sure if I still have time to order a red carpet for the grand welcome. Maybe I will have to hire a part-time maid for a day to clean the entire house spotless.

Meanwhile, Flora will also be coming together with her 2 kids and maid from Brunei on the first day of Hari Raya. So I will be having quite a number of guests this coming holidays. However, Mia and I will be away for 2 days of jungle trekking at the end of this month, so JJ might want to stay at home with popo Diana, wathcing cartoon the whole day. Or maybe if she wants to see more cartoon, she can see real life ones at my in-laws.

For the first time ever in so many decades, mom will be celebrating her birthday with all of us A to F on the 1st of September. All these years we were unable to assemble all my siblings. But this time, Audrey, Bridget, myself, Dennis, Evelyn and Flora will all be there. Her pewter is all nicely wrapped up; the durian cake (I don't suppose they have that in Vancouver); as well as the food catering have been arranged by my sisters.

I foresee lots of tears of joy this September; so there will be more reports to come later...

Unprepared For Pre-paid Phone Service

2011-08-22T12:31:00.003+08:00

Shortly after I moved back from Brunei to KK about 9 years ago, I bought one of the most primitive Nokia mobile phones and subscribed to phone services from MAXIS. Later on, I took up a "family plan", i.e. I took up the main phone line, and Mia as the supplementary line. Over the years, I've changed my mobile phones several times. However, I wish to say that I'm not one of those creatures who have the habit of changing phones solely for the sake of changing phones, or "keeping up with technology". In most cases, I changed my phones because they had reached their lifespan.

I see people changing their mobile phones almost annually; or in some cases, even twice a year. And these people would actually spend an entire month's salary—and ever more than that—for newer phones!

Mia had been using her Nokia for at least 4 years now, and had recently been liable to sudden shutdown for no apparent reason. Messages would disappear; and some important data went missing. In fact, it was obvious that it was probably time to consider buying a new phone. But since procrastination is a universal disease, she never actually made the effort to go mobile phone shopping—she merely grumbled to me every time her phone started acting up.

I think God must have been observing her patiently and sympathetically from heaven over the last couple of months. But in the end He ran out of patience and finally acted on it.

As part of our training for the 100km trail race this coming November, we've been trekking the Kibambangan jungle. Both Mia and I bought specially-designed trekking backpacks. But she saw to it that hers had many more compartments. In fact, she's proud of all those little compartments. She is very proud of having all her little stuff nicely separated into their respective compartments in her bag, you see. But I'm not impressed, because she almost always finds herself unable to locate her stuff when she needs them, quite often ending up having to ransack the entire bag to look for a single item. Some people!

At this point, you may be thinking what has all this got to do with the title of this post. Please hang on, I'm getting there sooner or later!

The last time we went up the hills in Kibambangan, Mia brought her forsaken bag again. But on our way back, it started to pour. No problem—she was prepared with a special plastic cover to protect her backpack from the rain. Again, she was very proud of her preparation. Only that when we reached home that night, she realised that she kept her mobile phone in one of those many compartments which were not protected from the rain. Needless to say, her phone was soaking wet and it was already dead by then. I, of course, laughed my heads off, until I remembered that I have been the one who bought all her phones all these years. After I became sober from my uncontrollable laughters, it dawned upon me that Mia would have to buy a new phone.

Enter the iPhone 4...

I've been meaning to switch from MAXIS to Digi for a while now. But again, procrastination is a universal disease, you see. And again, I suppose God thought he would help push us a bit to decide sooner. So since it's time for Mia to buy a new phone, I thought I might as well take the opportunity to finally make that transfer to Digi.

A visit to Digi revealed that it wasn't as simple as I thought. While it's possible to retain our original phone numbers with MAXIS, we had to convert to the pre-paid plan in Digi first. After that, we can then convert again to the postpaid plan.

They have numerous "special packages" in Digi, some of which come with the phone sets. Now my Nokia N97 is still usable, except for some keys which are no longer functioning. But since it's a touchscreen type, I could still use it. But I reckoned that I might as well grab the chance to change my phone too. Besides, I was pleasantly surprised that Mia decided to pay for her own phone! [God, I don't know how you did it, but thanks for the help!]

I must admit that I have a kind of phobia of using these so-called "smart phones", because I feel that I'm not so smart to use them! Moreover, since day one of my mobile phone history, I've never ever used a pre-paid service. I know so many people who are using the pre-paid service, but I've never actually investigated what's the difference with the postpaid system.

Actually, both systems are the same, except that in the case of the pre-paid service, as the name suggests, users would have to pay first before using the service. This is done by buying phone credits by means of what's called "reload coupons". While this may sound like a simple and straightforward procedure to most people, it sent chills down my spine. But, well, it's now or never!

So a few days ago was the last of our phone signal from MAXIS, and it was time to activate the pre-paid service from Digi. Of all the time for this to happen, it had to be in a restaurant while we were having dinner. Mia, who's probably 10 times worse than me when it comes to this sort of thing, passed her phone to me to help her activate her pre-paid line. Earlier on, we had already bought the reload coupons. Looking at the instructions on the reload coupon, I was quite relieved to note a very easy step-by-step procedure. First, one has to key in "*123*", followed by the 16-digit number on the card, and close with "#" before hitting the call button.

That looked simple enough, but after I followed the instruction with the 16-digit number, it was rejected! I tried again a second time. Then a third time. Then fourth...

The minutes passed. In the end, I decided that the simpler method was just to ask one of the waitresses. She merely walked over to my table and demonstrated to me how to execute the activation procedure. First, type the "*123*" (uhuh, that's what I did). Then type in the 16-digit number hidden under the portion of the coupon which I had to scratch, NOT the 16-digit number under the barcode; followed by the "#" key and the call button. And then, almost magically, voila!... the phone suddenly came alive!

I thought the waitress must have rushed to the toilet to laugh her heads off.

I think Digi should produce another type of reload coupon meant for dummies—one which actually tells the user to scratch that portion on the lower right hand corner to get the 16-digit number.

Well, Mia has since had her iPhone 4 and been spending like 23 hours per day playing with it. I think this morning she's trying to find out how to connect to the internet. I think by the time my Galaxy S2 arrives, I'm gonna spend something like a few days just to learn how to make a call.

Keeping my fingers crossed...

Theories, Experiments & Conclusions

2011-08-17T21:40:00.002+08:00

Have you ever noticed what sports magazines—generally speaking—have in common? Well, they almost always come up with new research and experiments leading to new conclusions that would absolutely demolish earlier claims by experts of the old school. Y'know, things like drinking 8 glasses of water per day used to be good for you, but that is no longer true today based on new evidence; that when running marathons, "drinking to thirst" is better than "drinking ahead of thirst"; that when weight training, doing 3 sets of 10 reps each is no longer considered the best thing to do for best results.

I think there is a kind of expectation from the audience to see something new in sports magazines. Otherwise, there is no point to keep buying the monthly issues—simply buy a few months', and then those could be recycled over and over again, forever! Therefore, for the magazines to keep selling, there must be something new in them in each issue!

That's just one part of the story. The other part of the story is that I suspect the people who conduct those experiments have more or less made up their mind as to the conclusions that they can—and should—draw from their experiments. I'm convinced that even scientists of the best breed can sometimes fall victims to their own theories. That is human nature, you see.

Take the porn star as an example. I think even before she so much as lifted a scalpel or forceps when conducting the autopsy on Teoh Beng Hock, she had already had the theory of murder in her mind; and the autopsy was just a means to find the evidence to prove her theory. And if there is any hint in the slightest degree that can lean towards murder, then that will immediately leap to her eye; whereas the other facts that would rule out murder would be in danger of not even getting noticed.

If, for example, I have a theory that beer contains a very small amount of women's hormones, how should I conduct an experiment to prove my theory? Well, maybe I would find a couple of healthy men and separate them into 2 groups. I would let the first group drink a glass of plain water per 10 minutes each and make an observation of any effect on them. Then I would let the other group of men drink a glass of beer per 10 minutes each and also observe if there is any effect at all. At the end of that experiment, my report might look something like this:

"1) Those who consumed plain water were observed to remain normal in terms of behavior, except that the frequency of visits to the toilet is seen to have increased.

2) Those who consumed beer were observed to gradually talk a lot of nonsense and gradually lose their ability to drive.

3) The conclusion is that beer contains a very small amount of women's hormones, of which when sufficient amount is present in the body, the feminine characteristics will become apparent."

A couple of weeks ago, I attended a talk presented by a sports scientist from Singapore. Although he was not a doctor, he had been conducting research and experiments for some years related to sports in general, but perhaps more for running sports. In fact, he was also an avid runner himself.

It was an interesting talk to say the least, but as in the case of many sports magazines, I couldn't help but notice that quite a major part of what's discussed was to break a lot of myths about running sports.

According to him, in one of those experiments conducted, it was shown that when running marathons it is better to "drink to thirst", and not "drink ahead of thirst." He went on to explain that the recommendation to "drink ahead of thirst" had its origin in sports drink producers in the States, trying to boost up consumption of their products. So experiments were conducted in such a way to somehow arrive at the conclusion of "drink more of our products", though not in so many words.

Well, I am not a sports scientist, and I don't claim to know more than the speaker. But to me, drinking a more or less fixed amount of liquid—especially sports drinks—in a given workout time, even ahead of thirst, had always worked well for me. There were times in the past when I experimented with "drinking to thirst", and I got caught with severe cramps. And of course the terrible thing about cramps is that once you get them, the race is practically over!

So I must admit that I have doubts about the experiment conducted to conclude that "drinking to thirst" is superior to "drinking ahead of thirst". After all, each individual may be different physiologically, and may react differently to the timing of hydration. I'm not suggesting that all sports scientists are like the "porn star", but I would suggest that runners do what works best for them, even if what they're doing may not accord well with the findings of new "research and experiments."

Jungle TrekkingTraining Continues...

2011-08-15T20:29:00.028+08:00

At about 7:10am yesterday morning, a group of 23 people assembled at the Kibambangan Resort, about 10 minutes' drive from Donggongon town. They consisted of doctors, triathletes, marathoners, RPM instructor, and other sports enthusiasts. They had one thing in common—they were all nutcases who would sacrifice their Sunday to torture themselves by walking miles and miles into the hilly jungle.

We were supposed to start trekking no later than 7:15am, but because we are true Malaysians, it was 7:45am when we finally embarked on the journey. Before we started, however, Dr Helen declared that "this is my backyard", and took it upon herself to conduct a briefing.

We turned attentive faces to her, while making last checks on our backpacks.

In the crowd were the newly inducted Port Dickson Triathlete, Teo Chen Lung and his friend Alex Tay. By the way, Teo was the most hi-tech trekker in the group. He had on him a state-of-the-art mobile phone, Solomon shoes, cap and hydration belt, heart rate monitor, knee guard, Compression calf tights, a Camel Bak pack with a 2-litre capacity bladder, and an Oakley Jawbourne shade worth RM1,200. Before starting on the journey though, he took the time to distribute the hardcopy registration form for the Miri Triathlon. I will discuss with Helen later if we should charge him some sort of royalty for promoting the Miri Triathlon during this training session.

Anyway, I was lucky to have had a short conversation with the Chok sisters, though actually that conversation was merely because they wanted me to take a photo of them together. Anyway, as you can see, tights don't look so good on men, if you know what I mean.

Interestingly, Cherylanne, the girl holding the camera loved her Solomon trail running shoes so much that she decided to leave them at home. Instead, she wore ordinary running shoes for the occasion.

A quick group photo before the nightmare began. I reminded everyone to smile as that could be the last time they'd smile for the whole morning.

The group photo done with, we made a slow procession across a hanging bridge, and then up a fairly steep climb for a good 20 minutes or so. It was around then that Boyd, Stephenie and John started running up the slope like mountain goats, while the rest of us could only watch enviously.

It was also about then that Teo announced that his heart rate had risen to 134, which was somewhat surprising, since it was observed to be at only 34 when he was having his fried noodle during breakfast.

Dr Felice, who was joining us for the first time had quite a good warm-up during that first few minutes and took a short break to pose for a photo. Felice has been an extraordinary specimen in that she has always demonstrated that her unorthodox training method can work equally well. She likes to do things her own way...

After a few minutes on the trail, the crowd began to spread further and further apart into smaller groups. Teo and Alex decided to stick together. After all, Teo's motto has always been "Slow & Easy"; though according to him for this particular outing, it was more like "Slow & Not Easy".

However, he did pick up a bit of speed later on when he reached the dirt road. And as you can see Claire was quite determined to catch up with him.

Further ahead, Teo was still going strong. Well, OK, at least he appeared to be strong still. Claire was still chasing after him.

Some parts of the road were shaded by the trees. But still lots of climbing.

Having suffered a severe cramp 2 weeks ago, Mia decided to play safe this time by going slow but consistent pace—a strategy that paid off handsomely.

I failed to reach Terian during the last two attempts, so I was quite determined to make it this time. I went a little faster this time and found myself in the leading pack with Dr Liaw. But later on, Boyd, Stephenie and John came from behind. Apparently, they had gone the wrong way for a bit before realising it, and then only now caught up with us. In a jiffy they overtook me and I had to walk in solitude for a bit until Dr Joseph came along. We walked for some minutes before finally arriving at this small shed where we met the leading pack again behaving as if they were waiting for a bus.

Beyond that shed, it was more or less gently undulating for some minutes before going downhill approaching Terian. I continued walking with Dr Joseph. Along the way, I could hear plenty of chattering sounds from the trees. But those were not the Predators of the movies. We also did not come into contact with any 10-foot-tall blue creatures with USB port at the tip of their ponytail hair.

All the way into Terian, I was conscious of the downhill path. I knew that we would have to pass this way on the return leg. The minutes passed and before we knew it, we could hear the sound of running water. It was a river, and I knew that we were already close to Terian. As we crossed a shallow river by jumping on boulders, we came up on the other side, and after a short climb, Dr Joseph suddenly threw up his hands to the heavens and exclaimed "At last!". And I could almost smell lunch!

We came to a hanging bridge which was desperately in need of refurbishment. As we crossed the bridge in the best of Indianna Jones fashion, we were pleasantly surprised by sounds of applause from below. Boyd, Stephenie, John and Dr Liaw were having a dip in the river below. My excitement mounted.

I was about to join them at the river when I suddenly realised that a leech was happily feasting on my left foot.

And if you're having trouble spotting it, here's another shot without my shoe. Can you see it now?

For the benefit of those who're not familiar with this parasite, let me tell you that it is no thicker than a matchstick. An amazing creature which is very primitive—it has no eyes, yet it can sense blood from several metres away! It somehow found its way onto my leg, moved all the way down, and from the surface of a thick sock, was able to sense blood flowing in my veins. It's such an efficient blood sucker. And it's also a damn greedy little bugger too. Although it had extracted blood as much as 10 times the volume of its body, it still won't stop; it kept sucking. In fact, it's almost as greedy, and as scary, as our politicians, if you know what I mean!

Well, after I dealt with the little leech, I went down to the river to join the rest. Oh! the river felt so nice.

One by one the rest in the group arrived across the hanging bridge above. I was quite surprised to see Claire, followed by the other girls (Teo, you should really come back for a rematch with Claire). Not far behind, Teo was happily approaching Terian. See for yourself!

I was still at the river when Judy arrived and took this shot from the hanging bridge. I still think men don't look very good in tights.

Later on, Jiki arrived and found that she, too, donated some blood to the little creatures. In fact, most of us did!

After the relaxing dip in the river, we made our way up the hill to where Helen had arranged for lunch.

Happy faces having hot drinks after the long journey from Kibambangan.

Dr Liaw decided to tease the women in the group with his sexy white legs, whereas I went topless. I'm thinking maybe I should consider wearing a sports bra next time? We opted not to do the pole dancing though, because we had to conserve some energy for the return journey.

It wasn't some half an hour later when Mia finally arrived for lunch. We were counting heads and wondering where's Felice when she made her big entrance. Instead of crossing the river on the hanging bridge, she just had to be different—she approached Terian from who-knows-where, crossed the river wading thigh-deep water and lived to tell the tale! (Did I say she likes to do things her own way?)

After lunch, we had to quickly prepare for the return trip. It was by then that we realised that Dr Soma had already given up and turned back to Kibambangan. So did Tan and her husband, Alex. Janet got the cramp and had to turn back with Elisia. Cherylanne's shoes got torn and had to turn back about 10 minutes from Terian. The moral of the story is to use the Solomon shoes for what they're designed to do; not leave them at home.

On the way back, it started to pour, resulting in very slippery paths. The descent was especially tricky and I slipped a few times. Later on I overtook some of them who started earlier, and finally caught up with Cherylanne who had by then abandoned her shoes in the jungle (I wonder if the Penampang District Council would fine her for littering in the jungle) and had a pair of oversized flipflop instead, courtesy of the kind Terian folks. It was kinda fun watching the sisters bickering at each other like the sound of jentik-jentik nyamuk aedes.

Well, I reached Kibambangan again at about 4:13pm and had to wait a little over an hour before Mia arrived with Dr Felice. And shortly after we left Kibambangan, it began to rain lions and wolves.

Later in the evening, I was still admiring the skill of the leech in locating the veins in my foot with amazing precision.

Well, I wonder if it will be a little easier the next time we go to Terian, but I doubt it. I dread to think of going even further to Buayan. But we'll see what happens next..

God, Proselytisation & One-Way Street

2011-08-05T20:55:00.006+08:00

Some years ago, I was working in Brunei when one day a Muslim client in a jubah came to the office to collect an urgent report in connection with his loan application at a local bank. Unfortunately, although the report has been completed, we required a few more minutes to do the binding. He was sitting across my desk, and I thought I'd create small talks with him.

I can't remember how the conversation started, but he was telling me about his plan to perform the haj later that year. And I sort of asked a passing question—not that I was really interested to conduct a research on performing the haj—whether it's really compulsory for all Muslims to perform the haj. Little did I know that that innocent question triggered what ended up to be over an hour's worth of lecture on Islam and why it is the best religion. Suddenly he forgot all about the urgency of his report and his appointment with the banker, but maybe that was time well-spent on his part.

Years earlier, when I was much younger, I was staying in Kampung Koidupan in Penampang. Our house was built on a native reserve on a hill. One bright sunny day, a woman came to the house holding an umbrella in one hand, and the Bible in the other. In spite of my telling her that I was not interested to know, she went on and on about her religion. The Jehovah's Witnesses are very, very persistent people, you know.

The thing about religions in general is that there is that curious tendency for the followers to try to influence others to convert to their respective religions. The attempt to proselytise may be very direct, or it can be subtle, but make no mistake, there is always that tendency!

I read with interest the recent news of how the Selangor State Religious Department (JAIS) raided a thanksgiving dinner held in the Damansara Utama Methodist Centre (DUMC). [The Star] And the raid was later defended by Datuk Dr Hasan, claiming that there was evidence of proselytisation towards Muslims. [The Star]

The question is whether proselytisation is a right only available to one religion and not the others—a "one-way-street"? That only the Muslims can proselytise and not the Christians or Sikhs?

It is no secret that I don't believe in any religion. And I'm seeing how Christianity is forced down the throat of my 9-year-old daughter. If I had it my way, I would prefer her to reach adulthood first before she is given the freedom to choose her religion, if she wants to. I'm not in favour of the brainwashing approach. I want her to have the freedom of choice.

I should add, however, that I will try to brainwash my daughter in my own way to look at religions critically. So, for example, maybe Mary wasn't a virgin when she had Jesus?

But the one thing that I shall not do is to deny her of the freedom of knowledge and information. She can attend lectures on Christianity or Islam or Buddhism for all I care. For I believe that only in that way can she then arrive at a quality decision, if she were to make one.

If my daughter is destined to choose Islam, then that is her choice. Whether or not I agree with that decision, that is not important. If she is happy with that decision, then she will have my blessings. I don't think that I'm going to prevent her from touching the Malay-language Bible because I'm afraid that she will be confused that the "Allah" in the Bible is the same with the "Allah" found in the Quran. I don't think that I'm going to prevent her from setting foot in a church or temple for fear of her converting to another religion. Relationship between an individual and God is a unique one—that is the kind of love, respect and admiration that cannot, and should not, be dictated by others. I shall not give reign to the temptation to deny my daughter the freedom of choosing her own faith.

Work, Love & Sacrifice

2011-07-29T12:49:00.004+08:00

Over the years I have had several Indonesian maids working for me in my home. I think there was once a spell of about 9 months that we survived without a maid. It's possible to cope if it's absolutely necessary, though it would be very, very stressful because both Mia and I have fulltime jobs. When we are not working, I spend a lot of time on sports, e.g. running, cycling and swimming. Mia is into running too, but she's also very much into guiding Jamie in her studies.

Anyway, as I was saying, we have had several maids. Generally speaking, if I had it my way, I would like my maid to work for at least 3 years, assuming of course that there is no problem like stealing habit etc. But unfortunately the reality is that they very rarely can last that long. I see these people for the most part trapped in their way of life. I don't quite know how to explain it, really, but there is this kind of mentality that makes their destiny sealed forever. It's almost like when you see one of them, you see all of them already! I know it sounds almost cruel to generalise people like that, but I don't mean it that way, honest! I'm sure if I looked hard enough, I'm bound to come across, say, one in a hundred of them who are very good in what they do. Just that I haven't been lucky enough to find one—so far. I have had a bit of experience, for example, with anger management. I've had some compulsive lairs and plain lazy bums. Not to mention those who apparently ate more than they worked.

That's why when a new maid arrived at our doorstep in February this year, I knew that she probably won't last very long too. However, y'know, when you don't have many choices, you simply accept something and then hope for the best to happen. Even if they are 99% the people I have dealt with in the past, there is always that 1%, you see.

I need not go into the details of her daily routine. Of course there will be the laundry to deal with; the cooking and washing; and generally keeping the house tidy. She had her 2-hour beauty sleep every afternoon without fail, of course; plus every weekend off day. Needless to say, there were several occasions when she failed to return from her weekend rest days. I threatened to cut her salary when she failed to return to work, but never actually did it. Not that the threat had any impact on her anyway—she was still unable to return home occasionally. I always paid her salary on time each month.

I'm not very fussy as an employer, and I'm not in the habit of looking over her shoulders all the time to check what she's doing; I'm not sure if I have had even 10 sentences on average exchanged between us per day.

There was no restriction on what she could eat or drink in my house. I have heard of some people who would restrict food consumption; and they would even beat their maids. It never failed to amaze me that there are such employers around, but, y'know, it takes all sorts to make the world!

Anyway, she ate whatever we ate. She enjoyed watching TV; and she spent on average about an hour chatting on the phone every morning at about 10am-11am. I've never bothered to find out who's that guy she's been talking to. I only got the hear his voice for a little while when I was on leave one day and the call came in. As my phone bills would show, she would also call that friend on a daily basis. I don't know what was the important discussion all about, but it is amazing how some people can talk for hours per session, really!

She wasn't the only one with the weakness on the phone. I suppose love is like that, you just can never run out of things to say to each other. In fact, I guess even if you talked about a load of rubbish, it is still OK, as long as you can hear the voice of that loved one.

It was around noon last Monday when I received a text message from her. She said that her sister-in-law had passed away in her village in Indonesia. So she had no choice but to make arrangements to try to go back to her village to attend the funeral. The news caught me unprepared. I had asked my previous maids before about the amount of time for them to travel back to their village from KK. Basically, it would take a day to travel from KK to Tawau. From Tawau, they would have to catch a ferry to Nunukan. In Nunukan, depending on availability of seats, they would have to catch another ferry to travel further south. All in all, if there is no delay, the journey would take about a week. But when they arrive in Indonesia, they would have to travel even further inland, sometimes by bus, sometimes by other means of transport. And that can take a few more days.

As you can probably guess, I must seriously doubt that she would be able to make it for the funeral. But it didn't really matter. For one thing, it's none of my business whether or not she's able to make it in time for the funeral. For another thing, of course the whole death thing was just a bunch of craps.

I arrived home at around 6pm that evening, immediately sat down at the dining table and told her that I'm cancelling her workpass. A few hours earlier I contacted the agent who helped to get the paperwork done. Then I paid her salary. She had by then packed her belongings in a tiny bag. I thanked her for her services and wished her all the best, and then she was off, and that's the last I saw of her.

That night I was thinking what did I do wrong. Have I raised my voice or have I offended her in some way without realising it. Or perhaps my wife scolded her? I could think of no such incidence. But then again, maybe I just did not realise it. I'm after all just human and not immune from making mistakes?

The next day, I started making phone calls. And then finally I found the actual reason why she quit. Never mind how I found out, I just did. Now I invite my readers to guess what's the reason of the resignation. Some of those people I have already spoken to about this—you know who you are—are disqualified automatically. Let's hear it from the rest of my readers.

Jungle Trekking

2011-07-24T19:43:00.011+08:00

Last April, some of my friends completed over 60km's worth of ultra trail race in Tambunan over a 2-day event. For a while before that I was contemplating joining that race, but eventually decided against it, because it was just too close to the Borneo International Marathon, of which I was to run a 42km race.

Then recently I found out that there will be another Sabah Adventure Challenge (SAC) in November this year. There will be 3 categories—100km (to be completed within a total of 36 hours, including sleep, meals and toilet breaks), 50km (24 hours) and 25km (14 hours). The organiser named the event Ultra Trail Marathon: The Most Beautiful Thing (TMBT).

I don't know why I did it, really, but after thinking for a week or two, I finally signed up for the 100km event. Mia signed up for the same event too. In hindsight, perhaps it would have made more sense to try the 60km ultra in Tambunan first before attempting TMBT. After all, I've never done anything like this before!

Soon after the registration for TMBT, it began to dawn on me that trail running is almost nothing at all like the several 42km marathons that I've completed. Participants will be running through the Crocker Range, through jungles and thick undergrowth; possibly wade through streams and rivers. And of course my biggest phobia of all—leeches (why did God create such a creature anyway?) and the many, many hills and mountain ranges throughout.

Doctors Helen and Liaw were there in Tambunan in April. So a bunch of us decided to ask them to organise a training programme for us newbies. Helen was kind enough to draw up a schedule over several weekends up to November, the first of which was this morning starting from Kibambangan in Penampang.

As usually is the case, many people said that they would come along, but eventually only 6 of us arrived at the Penampang public library, the meeting point for the trip—Tan Yoke Lee, Jonas, Jack and Judy, Helen and I. We then drove to Kibambangan which was about 9km away. As we were about to start, Liaw arrived in his truck. He was supposed to be in a plane heading for Indonesia, but somehow decided to join us instead.

We started by crossing the river on a hanging bridge, and then immediately after that was a steep climb up to seemingly nowhere into the jungle. And immediately it was obvious that it's gonna be a very punishing morning. We spent perhaps 15 mins or so before reaching the top of that first ascent. And although that was already harsh enough for my thighs, according to Liaw, that was just the warm up. In my mind, I was like, "That ridiculous climb was just a warm-freaking-up?"

Jonas and Liaw then left us behind and started running into the jungle upfront like wild gazelles. The rest of us remained with Helen. It wasn't really trail running; more like a brisk walk, but it felt every bit like the later stages of running marathons anyway.

After what seemed like eternity—although actually it was merely a few minutes later—we came to a clearing, and we were pleasantly surprised to arrive at a dirt road. I was quite happy to be out of the jungle where it was very hard to walk through uneven surfaces with so many tree roots and undergrowth. But my happiness was short-lived as the searing morning sun made me wish to be back into the shades again.

We walked on that road for perhaps half an hour or so before coming to a small hut which I thought had no reason for its existence. There, Liaw and Jonas greeted us with wide smiles. Liaw said that they had been there for 20 minutes, waiting for us, and I suddenly felt my heart fell to my stomach!

By then I was fully soaked in my sweat. The heat and humidity were just terrible. I was still trying to catch my breath and enjoying the view when Helen suddenly announced that we would shortly proceed uphill into the thicker jungle ahead for about an hour before turning back. The mere thought of more hills to come made my knees grow weak, but the pride in me fought on! She told Liaw and Jonas to go ahead as far as they could, and to turn back after an hour. We would also take the same route, but of course slower than those two animals. We would all come back together when we meet them on their way back.

As we walked into the jungle, we got to a path of perhaps a few hundred metres long with very thick undergrowth. And I was thinking of scorpions, insects and even snakes that might be lurking on the ground. In fact, we did see a lonely scorpion earlier.

More unending hills ahead. I thought Tan Yoke Lee was doing great, although I was wondering how she managed to climb those hills without any muscles in her body? (Tan, I think if you gained 20lbs, no one would realise the difference) We went further and further into the jungle. Helen brought us into a wrong path and we had to turn back, but actually we eventually ended up in the same path again. We soon became used to Helen's favourite tagline, i.e. "This is all a part of the training."

About an hour later, Helen turned to us and said—as if talking to herself, almost—"Shall we just stop here and wait for Liaw and Jonas on their way back?".

I could see a sigh of relief on Jack's face. In fact, I thought I saw a smile. But then before any of us could answer that sentence, which sounded so much like a question, Helen answered herself impressively, "I think we should just continue for a few more minutes lah..."

And Jack, who's been mostly quiet throughout, suddenly went "Continue ah?"

Well, we continued further up that ridiculous hill. But after a few minutes Jack decided to stop. The rest of us braved on. We finally met Liaw and Jonas, and all of us made our way back together. But after a short while, those two were nowhere to be seen again.

The return leg was also exhausting. Even downhill going was tough on the knees and quads. We made several short stops in between. Jack achieved the record of falling down 10 times. It was quite a relief when we finally reached our cars after about 4.5 hours.

Later on, Helen looked at her GPS and told us that we covered about 14km today. Hmmm... so 14km in 4.5 hours, huh? These days, I can run 14km at the park in under 90 mins fairly easily. Doesn't seem to me like the 100km in November through the jungles and hills will be a piece of cake, that's for sure. In fact, I'm not even sure that it will be "the most beautiful thing". But I will take the organiser's words for it. I'm beginning to think this whole thing is a very big mistake now. But let's see what happens as we progress further in our training programme.

We changed into our clean clothing. But I realised that I had forgotten to bring a clean underwear. It was kinda weird putting on my shorts without underwear. The thing dangling freely and all, if you know what I mean?

We then found our way to a vegetarian restaurant where I spent most of the time eating crossed legged. Let me tell you that it's not such a good idea for men to wear shorts without underwear!

Jonas is now all excited to go back to Kibambangan again, and eagerly wanting to try to go further into the jungle. The rest of us mortals will have to recover from sore legs first. My right knee is also acting up now. So we'll see what happens next Sunday. One thing is for sure—there is just no way we can complete the 100km in 36 hours with our pace today. Come November, I have the feeling that many people will regret that they signed up for the 100km race!

Paranoid Labelling

2011-07-18T21:20:00.010+08:00

Some people have a curious obsession of wanting to label everything in sight. If there is a single item lying around the house without a label on it, it would be a torment to them.

Such is the paranoid obsession of JJ's grandpa. He has been a retired civil servant for some years now. I have a shrewd suspicion that he starts his days scanning around the house in search of what items still unlabelled. And of course it would be very difficult to find one, because he has been keeping himself occupied by labelling household items on a daily basis for years now. But if he sees an unlabelled item at all, I suspect that would make his day—at least he has a project for the day!

Whenever I buy anything at all for JJ, I'm always prepared for at least a bit of disappointment, because I know it's just a matter of time before grandpa would vandalise it. Take this beautiful bag, for example, which I bought for JJ. Don't you agree that it's a nice bag?

Well, as expected, in no time, grandpa vandalised it with these words on the top portion of the bag so that the whole world can see who it belongs to.

Of course JJ's clear folder needs to be labelled too. Who knows if someone else may mistakenly take it for his or her own.

Pencil and crayon cases will also need to be labelled. How else would everyone else know who it belongs to?

But just in case they missed that label on the cover of the case, then they are bound to see another label on the inside of it. Brilliant, isn't it?

And don't forget, even pens and pencils should be labelled too!

Just in case you're wondering—no, I don't have high blood pressure. All the running, cycling and swimming have helped to bring down my blood pressure to 110/80. I'm not sure how long that will last though.

Stress Test, Wedding & Offertory

2011-07-18T17:45:00.004+08:00

A few years ago, I decided to start the routine of doing a stress test on an annual basis. Most people would not even think of doing the stress test until after the age of 50. In fact some people would not do it at all until the doctor tells them to.

From a young age, I have always been active in sports. If it's just a matter of jogging 2km to 3km, 3 times a week, maybe I would not bother with the stress test. But since I'm running several marathons in a year, I reckoned that it's a good idea to ensure that my heart is up to the workload. At the very least, I thought I would have the peace of mind. Doing the stress test is no guarantee, of course, since I might still have some sort of heart problems which the machine can't detect. But at least I've done my part.

So last Saturday it was time again for another stress test at Dr Raj's clinic. But first thing Saturday morning, I went cycling with some friends. So by the time that I reached the clinic, my heart rate was abnormally high at 75-80. My normal resting pulse these days is around 50. There was a long queue at the clinic, so much so that by the time I was done with the test, I had missed my swimming lesson. The test itself wasn't very long—I spent only about 15 minutes on the treadmill, and completed level 5 of the test. Dr Raj gave me a clean bill of health.

At the office this afternoon, Harry made a shocking request. He said during his wedding next month, would Mia and I do the honour of doing the offertory. Although I did not check my pulse then, it must have been in the high 90s upon hearing that word "offertory" alone. I was, like, "Offer—what?"

Of course it is no secret that I'm not a practising Catholic. It's been so long ago since the last time I went to church to pray. I can still remember confessing to the priest how I threw away that awful pancake grandma made for me on my way to school. And I just refused to believe that all I had to do was to go back to my seat and say 30 Hail Marys, and God would forgive me.

Although I attended a funeral in an Anglican church recently, I am for the most part, quite lost when it comes to church matters. That is also why that word offertory is a foreign-sounding word to me.

Now I'm sure you've experienced the time when you found yourselves in a seminar, and the speaker was saying something which sounded profound which was, unfortunately, completely incomprehensible. Yet you did not raise any question, because all the rest in the audience appeared to know perfectly well what he's talking about? So you struggle in your misery to pretend that you understood too!

I dread the thought of doing the offertory thing—whatever that is—and then the priest would open his arms, raising them to the heavens, and then say something like, "Let us pray..."

No amount of stress test at Dr Raj can help, and I can see myself collapsing there and then because of a heart attack. I have long forgotten my Hail Mary and Our Father in Heaven, you see. I suppose I can mumble something like what Mr Bean did in church, but I can't count on the priest not paying full attention on me!

No—I think I will pass on the offertory ritual. But I'm so happy that Harry and Buddy will be married very soon.

ISM Hunt 2011

2011-07-14T20:49:00.007+08:00

The ISM Hunt 2011 was organised last Sunday, 10th July, in conjunction with the 50th anniversary of The Institution of Surveyors Malaysia. The Clerk-of-Course (CoC) was Kena Tembak aka Main Tembak.

The format of the hunt was like this:

45 route questions (2 points each) separated into 2 legs of 25 questions and 20 questions respectively. Challenges comprising trivia questions (10 points) and finding one's way to the Old Post Office Building (5 points) to collect the questions and tulips for Leg 1 (Part A). Time control was 6 hours plus 30 minutes penalty time (2 points deducted per 5 minutes' block). 4 treasure questions (5 points each).

Compared to the questions set in the Palliative Care Association Treasure Hunt 2009, Team Kena Tembak did extremely well in this hunt. I think they have come a long way in balancing the varying difficulty levels in the questions for this hunt. And the tougher ones were also well spread. I would prefer at least one of the four treasures to be cryptic. But we were unlucky anyway because even though we stopped by several places, we failed to find the required items, thus losing 10 points just like that! I have had a long history of losing points for solved treasures, I don't know why!

Perhaps a bit of complaint in the tulips which I thought was somewhat confusing, although once you get the hang of it, it should be smooth-going. My brother, Dennis, took the role of driver and navigator, and he went the wrong way a few times, thus losing some precious minutes.

A few weeks before this hunt, I was at risk of not joining it since my team members were unable to hunt. Edward had something on that day, so he opted out. He has been the driver for a while now. He doesn't really contribute much as far as solving clues. Dennis is also very weak in cryptic clueing, and he doesn't seem to have much more scope of improving. Vivian decided to join her colleagues in her original team. So for a while I was contemplating not joining, until I found out that Claire and Christy could come onboard. We rarely have hunts here in KK, so if I can join, I would certainly do so, even if I don't have my own team! I renamed my team Megapawns Reboot.

I don't have much to comment on the questions—I think I can safely say that about half of them were very straightforward ones, with almost no cryptic element in them. For example, a picture of Michelle Obama led to the answer: First Lady (Men's) Hairdressing Centre; "LEMBU-LEMBU SIBUK DI SINI" required "Cow Cow Busy" as the answer.

A bit of defects in grammar, but no major impact on the solution:

Q6) REFERRED [TO] AS THE ONE OF WHO WE ARE TODAY

A6) ORION

I suppose I can live with the missing "TO" after the word "REFERRED", but I'd like to do things exactly right if I can help it.

In terms of style, I'm OK with the clues, but I prefer the surface reading to be slightly more elegant in that the storyline should be meaningful or even amusing.

Q42) KUASA TIGA MAMALIA

A42) CUBE MAN

It's hard to imagine what's the "story" behind the clue, but I guess it fits the answer very well. However, I'm glad to note that almost all of the questions were sound. The only one question that I feel worth discussing:

Q18) ANSWER IS UNIT

A18) U-TICK ADVERTISING

Elsewhere I have commented against the violation of basic cryptic clueing rules. For the benefit of the new hunters, there are two basic rules in cryptic clueing:

1) The setter may not mean what he says;

2) But he must say what he means

The first rule is quite straightforward—it means exactly that. He fashions out the clue in such a way so that the surface reading appears to mean something other than his true intention. By means of wordplay he tries to deceive the solver by bringing him as far away as possible from the scent of the solution!

The second rule is a bit more complicated. No matter how the setter twists the sentences, he must say what he means. There are exceptions, of course, such as "built-in" indicators. For example "EARTHQUAKE" may yield HEART, because that word "QUAKE" is an anagram indicator, thus resulting in the rearrangement of the letters in EARTH to form HEART. If the setter says "LIGHT" in his clue, he may mean it as a noun (something produced by an electric bulb); or he may mean it as an adjective (not heavy). Or perhaps some other synonyms. But he is bound by what he says!

When the setter says THERAPIST, he cannot then claim that he means that as two separate words, i.e. THE and RAPIST. To do so will violate the second rule above!

However, I must hasten to say that in KL apparently it has become fashionable for CoCs to use words which they don't mean such as in this example. So I guess it is all a matter of taste and style, but not adhering to cryptic clueing rule.

In one of my own hunts, I set the following question:

Q1) This business runs a partial translation?

A1) LARIS TAILOR

Notice that I used the word "RUNS" in the question, but I meant it as two separate elements, i.e. "RUN" and "S". Only the "RUN" portion is required to be translated into Malay, whereas the "S" remains undisturbed. Have I violated my own policy? My defence is that I did say what I meant, because I supported the "RUNS" by saying the clue involved a "partial translation" only.

My contention is that if the setter says the answer is UNIT, then he is bound by that word and its synonyms, and only within those parameters. I disagree that he is then allowed to claim that he meant UNIT as two separate elements, i.e. "U" and "NIT", so that the "NIT" can be equated to "TICK" to derive the answer. At the very least, my view is that the setter should have included a "?" at the end of the clue to signal some sort of indirect use of the word UNIT.

I think Claire and Christy have the capacity to go a long way in treasure hunting, and if opportunity arises again in the future, I would not hesitate to welcome them back into my team.

When we failed to find 2 treasures, I knew that we were in big trouble. Many of the weaker teams found at least 3 treasures. So even before the results were announced, I told my team mates that we would be out of the top 5! And true enough, we ended up 7th! It was a good hunt nonetheless, and I would congratulate the CoC for a job well done!

Results of the hunt (full score 125):

1) 110pt—Richard Tsen, Jeffrey Fong, Liaw Lam Thye, Florence Lajangang

2) 109pt—Teo Chen Lung, Leslie Yew, Tan Cher Kian, Frederick Samson

3) 109pt—Ernie Jason Ripin, Roland Ripin, Jude Ripin

4) 107pt—Insan Muslimin, Felix Joikon, Stella Moluntang, Daisy Mak

5) 104pt—Malcolm Abidin, Talissa Kiandee, Andrea Abidin, Callum Abidin

6) 104pt—Harry Koh, Buddy Jiliun, Sophia Lai, Raymond Woo

7) 98pt—Cornelius Koh, Dennis Koh, Claire Andrew, Christy Kong

8) 97pt—Ellen Yee, Mary Lokupi, Shirley Lim, Tsen Mei Fong

9) 92pt—Edwin Sabinus, Denny Lajitan, Mervyn Tham, Jeffrey Ismail

10) 90.5pt—Grace Chong, Vivian Cham, Joanna Stidi, Chan Mon Hueg

11) 90pt—Eileen Yeoh, Lee Tse Jim, Serene Liew, Moina Liew

12) 89pt—Gregory George, Dominic George, Clare Fabian, Dinah Mojiloh

13) 85.5pt—Ag Sarpudin, Zurinah, Jaffry, Agku Abd Rahim

14) 83pt—Victoria Jingulam, Irene Lee, Jennifer Julius

15) 80.5pt—Thomas Wong, Millie Teng, Terence Wong, Melvin Wong

Prevention vs Cure

2011-07-05T21:55:00.002+08:00

Almost 4 years ago, in November 2007, I posted an article entitled "Animals in us", which attracted some comments from the readers of this blog. I expressed my disagreement with the so-called "peaceful" BERSIH demonstration. It takes just one idiot to make trouble, and then all hell breaks lose. I tried to justify my belief in that article, but it wasn't easy to convince frustrated or angry people.

Then about two weeks later there was another "peaceful" demonstration. And I wrote another article entitled "Animals unleashed". Yes, people are like that—they tend to copy each other, you see. Once a group of people starts the street demonstration, there will be bound to be some other groups which will follow suit with their own demonstrations; once a group of people starts burning churches, there will be bound to be others who will also do the same thing, even if they don't really know why, or perhaps they'd do it just for fun. Before long, these street demonstrations will very quickly become the norm.

Over the past few weeks, the media has been occupied by the BERSIH 2 issue. Apparently, these people are demanding transparency in the election process. The plan is to hold another "peaceful" demonstration in the hope that the Election Commissions would yield to their demands.

My view about these so-called "peaceful" demonstrations had not changed since my November 2007 article. It is very easy for people to decide with their hearts, but not with their minds. It is very easy to say we must sacrifice to achieve what we want. It is very easy to say that we're willing to face the music if the demonstration turned violent. But when indeed the demonstration turns violent, when properties are destroyed, when people are injured and lives are lost, I really hope that it's worth it. We always think that we can't make an omelette without breaking an egg, and of course that is quite true. But wait till you experience losing the lives of your loved ones through such street demonstrations, maybe you will have a different opinion. Is it really worth it?

I feel strongly against the planned demonstration even if I support their demands. So yes, they march through the streets and get to deliver the mighty memorandum to the King. Then what? What is the difference when compared to, say, collecting signatures and then only a few representatives deliver the memorandum to the King. Would that have been any different? To be honest, I don't think so—both approaches would end up with the document finding its way into a file and then buried somewhere in a fancy rosewood cabinet. But the demonstration approach has the risk of turning violent. As I said, it takes just one idiot, and the rest will follow.

It is also very easy to shift the blame to the authority—we are peaceful, but you provoke us to become violent people!

In the Malay language, there is an interesting saying: Kalau tiada angin, takkan pokok boleh bergoyang. It means that when there is no action, how can there be a reaction?

And this reminds me of the time when my brother, Dennis, just passed his driving test many years ago. He was driving a brandnew tour bus along the Tamparuli stretch of Jalan Tuaran when he saw from afar a huge truck emerging from a junction. It was clearly his right of way, so he did not even slow down. As fate would have it, the truck did not stop too. So Dennis came home that day grumbling about his bad luck. I'm not too sure how it was calculated, but he had his salary deducted every month for a good half a year to pay for the damages to the tour bus. He blamed the truck driver.

I told Dennis, there is no point to blame the truck driver. Sometimes life is like that, we have to anticipate what's coming; sometimes it's not really about who's right or wrong. For when the accident happens, both will get into trouble. In this case, he should count his blessings because he did not lose his life in the accident.

I'm sure the vast majority of these people wanting so much to do the BERSIH thing are peaceful folks. But I'm convinced that there are a couple of them who have bad intentions. At any rate, I see the demonstration something akin to a time bomb, and I'm sure even the organiser of BERSIH knows that too. I shall have no part of it.

Times have changed. We now have the powerful internet. People have used chain mails, blogs, Facebook, Twitter etc. I see those as more powerful than street demonstrations. Besides, I'm also having trouble believing that some of these people supposedly fighting for transparent elections are themselves transparent and fair in their own election process.

If it were me, we should try very, very hard to protect peace in this country.

Jangan turutkan hati, nanti mati!

Jangan turutkan rasa, nanti binasa!

A Young Woman & Nipple Sizes

2011-07-03T18:19:00.007+08:00

After a two-week break from cycling, I was back on the saddle again yesterday morning with the usual group. For the first time ever, I started out from my Sinar Bukit house (I moved from Iramanis 3 weeks ago). So yesterday was a kind of a new beginning. But then again, as a whole, I haven't had too much experience on my road bike. I haven't even been out 10 times yet, so there is obviously a lot more to learn still.

Yesterday was also a special outing in that Claire—she had recently relocated back from Singapore to KK—was finally able to join us for the very first time, after several weeks of email exchanges on the subject. But because she had just arrived in KK about a week ago, I suppose she must have been busy running errands to get herself settled down. So she was not in time to buy her bike accessories for yesterday's outing. And because her bike has been idle for a good 6 months or so, both her tires were flat. So she had to come round to my Sinar Bukit house at around 5:30am yesterday morning to use my floor pump to inflate her tires. To those who're not familiar with road bikes, you might want to know that the pumps at the petrol stations are not good enough for road bikes. It's because you will need up to 110psi-120psi for the bikes, whereas for an average sedan car, you'd need something like 30psi only, give and take.

Well, both her tires were still OK and we successfully pumped them to the correct pressure. She then drove to the Sabah Trade Centre (STC) where she would park her car and then start from there. I on the other hand started from my home, but it was just a 5-minute ride to the STC.

Claire and I were the last in the group, and by the time we reached the Indah Permai traffic lights, the rest were nowhere to be seen. I was aware, however, that they're heading to the Mengkabong roundabout.

I was perhaps half a kilometre ahead of Claire, but when I was approaching KKIP, my phone rang. I was not in time to answer it, but shortly after that I received a text message. Checking out the calls, I realised that it was from Claire. She said that she had a puncture in her front wheel and told me to go ahead. I didn't think it's such a good idea to leave a young woman alone along that road, so I turned back to see what I could do.

I happened to have a spare tube and a hand pump with me. But actually, I've never ever changed a tube in my entire life before! I tried pumping the tire for a while, but it didn't take very long for us to realise that we had to change the tube. So there we were between Claire and I, we detached the front wheel and the blind started leading the blind.

First, I took out the existing tube, which was in itself quite a feat. Then I struggled for something like 15 minutes or so to try to insert my spare tube into the tire, but it just seemed impossible! I'm not sure how long I spent struggling with the wheel before it dawned on me that I needed to get half of the tire out of the rim in order to get the tube into it. Claire was mainly watching me in action, throwing in a bit of ideas every now and then.

Well, finally I was able to get the tube into the tire, after which I put the entire tire back onto the rim. But then that small protruding part which stuck out from inside the rim; y'know, that part where you attach to the pump, was too short. I wasn't sure what that thing was called, and for the life of me, I just couldn't find the correct term. I thought of "nozzle", but that word didn't seem right somehow. In the end, of all the words that came to me, I finally decided on the word "nipple".

OK, "nipple" it is then—fine, we progress!

Well, anyway, the nipple of the spare tube was comparatively shorter than the original one on Claire's wheel. Obviously, I bought a wrong type for my spare. So even if I could figure out how to change the tube, it was still the wrong type. Explaining to Claire the problem with the nipple, I tried to pull it through that tiny hole anyway until I realised that it got stuck. I then tried to dislodge it but failed. I think it was probably more than half an hour later when I finally gave up on the task.

Just as I was contemplating what else to do, I saw Teo, Amelia and Paul riding back from the other side of the road in true triathlete fashion. I took my bike and rush to the other side of the road, and then did the Lance Armstrong thing to catch up with them. Luckily there had to stop at the red light. We turned back together and found Robert and the rest helping Claire to fix her tube. It took them probably only 5 minutes to get it done!

Later that morning, Claire visited the bicycle shop to buy her bike accessories. And of course she bought a spare tube too. Then suddenly I thought it might be a good idea to remind her about the short and long nipples. So I texted her:

"... 4got 2 tel u dat my useless tube i bought fr spring. They sold me wrong type. Nipple too short! 4got 2 tel u 2 make sure nipple long like yours"

After sending the text message, I somehow read it once again and was horrified by what I said! So I sent Claire another text message:

"Hahaha! Salah bah! I meant nipple like d one in your back tire! Not on your chest! Hahaha! D ones on d chest better keep em short!"

Oh what an adventure. I learned so much in a single morning. And by the way, I have since searched the net and now know the nipple is actually simply known as the valve!

The Milestone

2011-06-28T18:50:00.010+08:00

What would you do if some students find it difficult to cope with the learning of math and science in English?

What would you do if some students are unable to compete against their peers?

What would you do if too few students can pass university exams?

Those are important questions the leaders of this country have to deal with quite frequently. The solutions are quite straightforward. For the first question, the answer is to change the medium of instruction to Malay. As for the second and third questions, those are straightforward too—simply bring down the grading system so that more students can pass the exams.

I don't know what is it like in the government offices, but I know a bit about the situation in many private companies, especially the big ones—there are quite often too many bosses but very few leaders. Many of those who occupy the important positions are there either because of the number of years they've been working in that company, or because they're very good in being yes-men, or because of their racial background and who they're related to.

A very common scene in a big private company is that when something goes right, everybody would be fighting to claim credit for it; but when something goes wrong, everybody starts pointing fingers at each other. That is survival in the corporate world, I guess.

Now I happen to know that some women are very, very clever and creative. In fact, I dare say they are brilliant. But I say some—not many. For those few who are really good in their jobs, it makes a lot of sense to let them hold important positions; in fact decision-making positions. If they're really good in what they do, even better than men, I see no reason why they shouldn't be allowed to make use of their knowledge and skills. After all, that can only be good for the company.

But what if they can't perform as good as the men? What is the logical thing to do? Well, I don't know about other companies, but I would choose those who I think can perform the best for the company. If it happens that women can perform the best, then of course they will get the job. If not, then I'm afraid the men will get it. This is purely looking at things from the company's point of view—it has nothing to do with the genders, really. If only 5% or 10% of the women in the company can outperform the men, then those 5% and 10% shall get the job(s), and the rest shall go to the men, and vice versa.

That's why I think the recent announcement by the government of the policy to get women to hold 30% of decision-making posts in the private sector is an ill-perceived idea. I know that announcement had probably a lot to do with the impending general elections in Malaysia. So I can understand the need to lure the women voters. But still, I say it's an ill-perceived idea!

There is just no free ride in business. You either perform to get the job; or if you can't perform, then you won't get the job. Otherwise, we're gonna have too many excess baggage which becomes a burden; people who become liabilities rather than assets to the company.

If I were the policy-maker in the government, I wouldn't formulate a "30% women in decision-making posts". Instead, I would put more emphasis on the survival of the fittest. Which means if 90% of the women can outperform the men, then they should rightfully occupy the important positions. But if the opposite is the case, then 90% of the important positions should be occupied by the men.

I think the kind of "milestone" that Datuk Seri Shahrizat Abdul Jalil is so proud of is nothing to shout about, really. The idea is always to work hard to achieve the 30% if it means that much to you; not have that 30% thrown onto your lap because of some sort of ill-perceived policy by a government bent on winning the general elections.

Standard Chartered KL International Marathon 2011

2011-06-27T22:13:00.007+08:00

After foregoing the KL Marathon a few times, I finally did it yesterday morning (26 June). But instead of running the 42km, I only ran the half marathon, i.e. 21km. Weeks before the race, I was a bit worried about the slopes. And the elevation chart found in the official website did not help at all—it appeared like there was a killer uphill slope at about 2/3 of the route. And I haven't been any good at slopes.

Going into this race, my previous best time for the half marathon was 1:58:22 in the Bareno Run, set in March this year. However, after the Bareno Run, I was given to understand that the distance was a bit short, perhaps by a few hundred metres! The Bareno was a tough hilly race; so I had a feeling that if the full distance of 21.1km was run, I might have taken around 2hrs or even slightly over.

My target in the KL Marathon was to improve slightly by at least a minute. A few weeks leading to the race, I've been working on my speed during midweek training, so I was quite confident of achieving my target, while at the same time a bit worried about the slopes.

But in the end, the thing that was to prevent me from achieving my target was the overwhelming crowd at the flag off. Although the race venue was just about 5 minutes from the Frenz Hotel, I found myself way at the back of the crowd at the starting line. I only crossed the starting line about 2 minutes after the start horn.

The first 3km of the race was quite frustrating for me as I had to run so slow—almost painfully so! It was so hard to break my way through the crowd. Over the several weeks of training, I've built up my pace to about 5mins:15secs per km average. I had planned to run the first km at 5mins:30secs before cruising into the 5mins:15secs pace. But instead I started at around 6mins:30secs for a good 3km. Upon reaching the highway, I was finally able to break free and surge ahead. But it was so hard to regain back lost time.

I had also come up with the strategy of consuming packs 2 energy gels (I usually consume only 1 pack for a half marathon) in anticipation of the slopes. I took the first pack at about Km8, which was about 46 minutes into the race; and the second pack at Km17.5, just shortly after a long but gradual ascent.

Some parts of the route merged with that of the full marathon. But beyond the 3km point, the run was mainly smooth going. This race was a major breakthrough for me as I ran throughout the race without walking except for the very short stops at several drink stations. However, as I was approaching the 19km point, it became clear to me that my hope of achieving a personal best (PB) wasn't gonna happen.

As I turned the long stretch of Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman, we suddenly merged with the 10km and full marathon runners; and it suddenly became very critical to sneak through the crowd for the final dash to the finish line. By then I was no longer paying much attention to my stopwatch, but I'm convinced that I was doing a 5-minute km. Passing Sogo, then Frenz Hotel, and making a slight turn, I could see the finish line ahead at Padang Merdeka. Although it was an impressive sprint, I saw a 1:58 plus on my stopwatch when I crossed the finish line. I was hoping to at least achieve a 1:57 plus, but it was not meant to be. Then I had hoped perhaps to still achieve a PB by only a few seconds, but that too seemed too far-fetched.

A classic case of so-far-and-so-close. Crestfallen, I proceeded to collect my finisher medal. And emerging on the other side, I saw Jonas who had finished his half marathon almost 20 minutes earlier than I did. Ivy was also there, and was kind enough to take this shot (thanks Ivy).

I waited a good 20 minutes or so before my brother, Harry, finished his half marathon, followed by Mia about 15 minutes later than him. It was a fine morning; it wasn't hot during the race, although it was still humid as usual. We were on our way back to the hotel when I bumped into my friend, CP Tan, who took this photo of the three of us (thanks CP).

The whole day, today, I've been trying to check the official results from the organiser's website, but it was jammed up so bad it's hardly possible to even get to the main page. But shortly ago, I finally managed to access the website and happy to find that I've achieved a PB after all, although by a mere 5 seconds over the Bareno's!

Official Results:

Cornelius Koh: 1 hour 58 mins 17 secs (PB)

Euphemia Thien: 2 hours 35 mins 11 secs

Harry Koh: 2 hours 19 mins 26 secs (PB)

Standard Chartered KL International MarathonFinal Countdown

2011-06-25T20:56:00.005+08:00

Well, this is it, tomorrow will be the Standard Chartered KL International Marathon starting and finishing at Padang Merdeka. However, because of a bit of lingering injury on my left foot, I'm only running the half marathon (21km). Actually, I did not plan to do the KL Marathon this year to allow my foot to heal. But then I realised that a fair number of my friends are running. So in the end I decided to compromise by running the half marathon.

My best official time for a half marathon so far is a little over 1:58 in the Bareno Run in March. So tomorrow I'm trying to achieve a 1:57 for a personal best (PB). Since it's just a half marathon, I'm running in my adizero Boston, thus risking aggravating my foot injury.

Well, butterflies in the stomach; thinking of all the things that can go wrong. More report after the race tomorrow. Keeping my fingers crossed...

Wake-up Call

2011-06-22T21:30:00.002+08:00

I knew that the late Andrew Voon had many, many friends. Yet I was fairly surprised to see the size of the crowd at his funeral this morning at the All Saints Cathedral, Karamunsing. A fair number of his friends were from faraway places; they came all the way to pay their last respect to this great man.

It's been ages ago since the last time I set foot in a Catholic church, let alone an Anglican church. But the ambience of a church—the huge cross on the altar, the sound of the organ, the rows upon rows of pews—they are generally all the same. I also noticed some modern improvements in terms of air-conditioning and projectors used to project biblical verses or prayers on the wall.

Teo, Jack and Diong amongst others helped to push the casket through the aisle leading to the altar. Jeffrey, Andrew's only son, read a passage from the Bible, followed by the delivery of the eulogy by Andrew's sister. I thought that was well-organised—until the time when the minister started his sermon. After reading a few verses from the Bible, he noted that Andrew died so suddenly and then wondered what would he have said if he could speak.

Addressing the audience, he asked, "What if the dead could speak; what would he say?"

And while everyone in the audience was still recovering from the suddenness of his question, the minister answered himself impressively.

"If Andrew could speak now," he said, "there would be 3 things he would say..."

And then he went on to speculate how Andrew would tell his friends and loved ones about looking after their health; but ultimately to believe in God and Jesus so that their souls would "live forever".

I kinda stirred a bit in my seat when the minister started talking about soul. After all, I don't believe in any religion. Then I thought of Andrew and what I know about his character. Although I'm also speculating, I did not agree with the minister at all.

As a matter of fact, I, too, was thinking about the suddenness of Andrew's death. All of us have the tendency to take things for granted. We may forget or neglect certain things in life until it's too late.

Then it occurred to me that although I couldn't remember the exact day, it must have been almost 3 weeks ago since the last time I reminded Mia that I love her. Andrew's death, though a big blow to all of us, is a wake-up call to me. Sometimes we tend to lose track of time and then forget to say or do the important things in life.

At the first opportunity I had on Sunday morning, I reminded Mia that I love her still; and I'm so glad that she said "yes" to me 19 years ago.

If Andrew had only 3 things he could say, I'm sure one of them would be to tell his wife and children how much he loves them.

But I admit that I'm also speculating, just like the minister.

Fashionable Sport

2011-06-21T19:41:00.005+08:00

My daughter, JJ, will be 9 years old in a couple of weeks' time. At this stage, it's hard to tell if she will be active in sports when she grows up. If I had it my way, I'd love to see her to be good in some sports, even if she doesn't end up representing her school or country.

I'm probably being too ambitious here—and I seriously doubt that I can stop her if she chose to—but I will try my best to discourage her from playing tennis. No, really, I mean it; this is a matter of life and death. If ever she learns to play the game, there is that risk of her putting on what appears like pyjamas; and I would surely die of a heart attack seeing her in that outfit.

Four Marathons & A Funeral

2011-06-18T21:21:00.009+08:00

It must have been around mid-2008 when I was lucky enough to have decided to register for the Borneo International Marathon (BIM), the first of such event to be organised in Sabah in over 20 years. That was also the first ever race I've joined.

I was unsure of my level of fitness, so I ran only the half marathon that year. That was a significant turning point in my life, not only because of the discovery of a new passion in running, but also because I found a new friend, Andrew Voon; he was the Race Director of the Borneo International Marathon.

Andrew had been running for a while prior to 2008. And because of his passion for running, he organised the BIM, against all odds, together with some of his running buddies. That the BIM is a success is a fact no one could deny as evidenced by the gradual increase in the size of participation as well as the size of funds raised for charity.

Well, it's been four marathons organised by Andrew, and I still can't imagine how he pulled them off, considering that he had to juggle between running his own business which required frequent overseas trips, and his passion in running, biking and fellowship with his friends. But like a magician, he conjured up tricks upon tricks to bring the success story of the BIM to new heights without fail.

Among our circle of friends, Andrew played the role of the organiser all too well. He'd be the one who'd organise gatherings. Pre-marathon dinner, post-marathon BBQ, post-training drinking sessions, Christmas Potluck party—you name it, he never ran out of ideas to keep us all on our toes!

It was in Hong Kong earlier this year, when we were there to run the Hong Kong Marathon, that I shared a room with him. We had lots of time to chit-chat, and I actually found myself thinking that I was so lucky to have found such a good friend in Andrew.

We're approaching the end of June, but Andrew had already lined up so many more events for the rest of this year. Apart from running the KL Marathon next Sunday, he had also registered for the Sydney Marathon in September. He's also planning to join the Mount Kinabalu Climbathon, the Miri Triathlon, the Sabah Adventure Challenge in November. He's just so full of life...

That's why I was shocked beyond words to have received the news of his passing this morning. He went to the Likas jogging track and was into the first few laps of the intended 18km run, when he suddenly collapsed onto the track and never regained consciousness again. He is survived by wife, Carol, and 4 kids.

The man who brought us all the Borneo International Marathon had enriched many lives with the passion of running, promoted Sabah as a marathon destination, while at the same time raised funds for charity. I was there at the funeral parlour this evening to pay my last respect to a great man, a dear friend; without any doubt a very big loss to the community.

Thank you, Andrew Voon; rest in peace my friend; your passion lives on in the rest of us. You will be missed.

Balls & Bicycles

2011-06-10T21:41:00.003+08:00

First thing tomorrow morning, I'm going on an overnight deep sea fishing trip with my brothers, Dennis and Harry. We will only be back on Sunday evening. So I had no choice but to squeeze in my 16km run this morning instead of Sunday. However, I will have to give cycling and swimming a miss for this week.

According to Teo, they're going for a 40km time trial cycling tomorrow morning between the Sabah Trade Centre and Sepangar Navy Base and back; they're trying to achieve an average speed of 35km per hour. I think even if I could join them, I doubt that I can achieve a 35km per hour average. I'm just not up to that level yet. Maybe if I trained hard enough for a couple of months, I may have a shot at it.

A couple of weeks ago, Teo had planned to try his luck at the Kokol hills in Menggatal. It's been some years since the last time I went to Kokol. In fact, I didn't even know that the road is sealed now. According to Teo, he had been planning to do Kokol since January as a preparation for the PD Triathlon, but he said he had no balls to actually carry out his plan. But now that the PD Triathlon is near, he wanted to just go ahead with his plan.

It happened that Amelia and her husband were also keen to try out Kokol. I did not know what to expect, but decided that the worst that could happen was to surrender and turn back halfway up the hills.

Through a series of SMS exchanges with Dr Peter, I told him what Teo told me. I said I did not know much about Kokol, but I could only guess that Amelia's gonna suffer up there, since she for certain did not have balls? Dr Peter replied thoughtfully, asking me how could I be so sure that Amelia hadn't any balls and Teo had?

I guess he had a point there. I had to reluctantly admit that I could only deduce that Teo had grown a set of balls between January and now, but there was no way to be sure. It's unclear where's the connection between balls and bicycles, but I did say to Peter that ball bearings can reduce frictions?

Anyway, it just so happened that on the day we were supposed to go to Kokol, most of Teo's friends did not turn up at Sabah Trade Centre. So Teo decided at the last minute to ride all the way to Salut, passing the huge bridge and Rasa Ria Resort to that small roundabout near Tuaran; and then all the way back to Likas. That was a total of over 70km, so it was quite a good workout on a harvest festival holiday.

I found out recently that Kokol is a 16km uphill climb. I think Kokol can be a very challenging workout. I'd imagine even a 1km uphill ride would be very punishing for the thighs, so 16km uphill would be something to think twice about. No wonder Teo was talking about balls—although I still can't see the connection.

I think I will ride Sepangar at least a few more weeks before attempting Kokol. I have the feeling that Teo won't be able to make Kokol before PD Triathlon anyway. So that gives some of us new cyclists a bit of breathing space to train first.

But for now, let's see if I could come home with lots of fish on Sunday!

Obedient Wives

2011-06-05T17:26:00.003+08:00

"A husband who was kept happy in the bedroom would have no reason to stray or seek out prostitutes or indulge in other social vices"

—Vice President of Obedient Wives Club, Dr Rohaya Mohamad [The Star]

That looks like a logical hypothesis by the good doctor. In a perfect world, I would even say that's a sound statement. But unfortunately, this is not a perfect world. I think Dr Rohaya is up for a big surprise.

Many years ago, I used to know a man, J, who was married with two kids. His wife and kids adored him very much. He wasn't a wealthy man—far from it—his wife had to work to help support the family. From what I could see on the surface, it was such a happy family.

However, I failed to understand why J would frequently cheat on his wife. He would go to the extent of having sex with a parking attendant at the back seat of his car. Being the curious creature that I was (I still am), I actually had a serious talk with J in a coffee shop one day. I was basically trying to understand why he was seeking sex outside; was he not happy with his wife?

He said he loved his wife still, and happy with their sex life. But—and this is the interesting part—there's a kind thrill in cheating on his wife and able to get away with it! He said sex, when forbidden, had some sort of magical excitement in it. It had nothing to do with whether he was happy with his sex life with his wife; nothing to do with his love for his wife!

Men seek sex outside of their bedrooms for numerous reasons which have nothing to do with whether or not they are "happy in the bedroom". The onus of a successful marriage lies not only on the wives, but equally on the husbands. And for as long as Dr Rohaya fails to account for that factor in her hypothesis, her formula for a "harmonious marriage" is bound to be in vain.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a married man myself, and I would be the last person to complain if my wife could serve me "better than a first-class prostitute", whatever that means. Maybe it's just my nature, but I'm not a believer of getting anything for free. If I want my wife to respect and obey me, then I must earn that respect and obedience. And it is there that the emphasis must be made, instead of trying to teach the wives to obey and serve their husbands as a duty; or as a condition to secure a place in heaven, the holy book regardless.

I'm convinced that if a husband is loyal to his wife and carries out his duties as the head of the family, his wife would willingly serve and obey him without even realising it! There is then no need to teach the wife to be an obedient servant to the husband.

But talk about creativity—Obedient Wives Club. Bah!

Puppy Love

2011-06-03T18:32:00.002+08:00

I know this is not easy to believe, but I honestly don't spend like 23 hours a day on Facebook. Between work, running, cycling, swimming, blogging and reading, you can imagine how little time I have left for Facebooking. But sometimes, I allow myself a bit of time checking out what's happening on Facebook.

More than 25 years ago, I had a crush on a pretty girl—I don't know if that's what people would describe as "puppy love". I can still remember how I just wished that I had her as my girlfriend. But I had no guts to tell her how I felt. Maybe I was afraid that I'd be rejected; that would surely have been painful to accept!

I'm a bit ashamed to admit that most women would find me too boring—I have no style; I don't even smoke and drink; and I don't go to the disco where the sound is as loud as the engine room in a power plant.

Many years have since elapsed since the last time I saw her, and I have almost forgotten all about her. Then as fate would have it, while checking out the Facebook search engine, I stumbled upon the name which I haven't heard of or seen for such a long time. I clicked on the profile photo, and true enough, it was the same girl from over 25 years ago!

I was like, "Whoa! What the hell happened to that slender sexy body? Where did that extra 100 pounds of fats come from?"

But actually, I think it would have been different if I had been brave enough to approach her, and we became a couple all those years ago. Love is like that—if it works, you just fall increasingly deeper in love over the years to the extent that the physical changes would become almost unnoticeable!

But still, what the hell happened?...

The Art of War

2011-06-02T19:10:00.004+08:00

A coffee shop talk with a friend recently gave rise to the topic of a hypothetical war in Malaysia. Malaysia is of course a peaceful country, and it is hard to imagine that war would ever break out in this peace-loving nation.

Nevertheless, that doesn't mean that we shouldn't be prepared for the worst. And so, the Malaysian Government had invested a lot of resources to put young men in what appear like army uniforms, and equipped them with what look like firearms. Altogether, I dare say it is almost easy to mistake them for real soldiers!

If ever Malaysia is attacked by foreign forces, I'd imagine the attack would start from the sea. After all, a major portion of Malaysia consists of shorelines. Not that we have much to worry, of course—Malaysia has a strong fleet of state-of-the-art navy ships, all equipped with high-tech weaponry. In fact, we now have our very own submarine at the cost of a few billion Ringgit a piece. Only problem is that it is entirely possible that the submarine is unable to dive when it needs to.

Even if the Malaysian navy is unable to defend our waters, by the time the enemy forces arrive at our shores, we still have our ground troops, all of whom are ready to defend the country, provided that their weapons haven't been stolen when they need them. They will fight hard, especially with the support of their beloved leader from about 500km away from the war zone.

But don't be over-confident—it is possible that the attack would come from the air too. Then again, Malaysia has its admirable air force, and we have quite a number of ace combat pilots. That is if the airplanes have not lost their engines to start with.

In the end, if all else fails and the situation looks grim; the nation is at the brink of defeat...

And then a hero comes along (or rather a heroine comes along)

With the voice to carry on

And you cast your fears aside

And you know you can survive...

Datuk Siti Nurhaliza would come to the rescue, singing patriotic songs to lift the spirit of our forces. Fight on! Don't give up!...

Malaysia Boleh!...

Yesterday Once More

2011-05-30T14:38:00.006+08:00

I had an interesting conversation with a friend some years ago. We were reminiscing about our school days; the mistakes we had done, and how differently we would have done some things had we been able to turn back the clock. And then something he said struck me as quite profound—"The best way to learn in life is by making mistakes."

Let me explain that sentence.

All of us make mistakes in life, of course. And most of us learn from those mistakes. When we encounter the same situations again, we are better able to make the correct choice(s) in the hope of getting a better outcome(s).

Nevertheless, some people have the habit of repeating their mistakes over and over again. What's more, after failing a few times, they still don't know what's hitting them! Such was my friend's case. He had to get married because he accidentally made a girl pregnant. He said it was never really about love. It was a rocky start from the beginning. He reckoned that he'd make the best of it and hoped that he'd fall in love with the girl after a while. I know all of this sounds like something from the movies, but believe it or not, it happens in real life too! Unfortunately, he failed to fall in love with his wife. But instead of ending the misery for both parties, they had another child—also accidentally...

Many of us will not learn from our first mistake, but thankfully, we will learn after repeating them a few times.

My daughter, JJ, repeated her mistake in her recent English exam. A few months ago, I posted an article about an English exam, of which she made wrong past-tense sentences without including the word "yesterday".

In her recent English exam, a similar situation arose. The instruction in the paper was for the pupil to "use all the words below to make one correct sentence." And the given words were "walked" and "school".

So JJ wrote:

He walked to school.

That sentence, to me, albeit very simple, is correct. After all, JJ did use both the given words in one sentence, as per the instruction. But actually, it was marked as wrong because, of course, there was no "yesterday" at the end of the sentence. I'm guessing that the "yesterday", which was supposed to have been included in the sentence, was meant to "prove" that the pupil understood the significance of the tenses, i.e. the "ed" in "walked".

As you can see, there is here a pattern in the teaching of English in school. JJ got it wrong in the last exam because of that forsaken "yesterday". And now she is again wrong because of that "yesterday"; or rather because of its omission. It makes me wonder what would have happened if she wrote "today" instead of "yesterday". I won't be surprised if "today" would have been rejected too! And if indeed rejected, it would be solely because that answer does not conform to the taught-and-supposedly-memorised "yesterday".

What I see in the education system these days is mechanical thinking—solutions to problems are restricted to only some acceptable ones which are the norm. Anything other than those are discouraged. Original ideas or creative thinking will soon become rare phenomena.

In time to come, we will see many of these kids entering the job market, full of knowledge which they had memorised from school. They will be equipped with "mechanical brains". We will not have many inventors, if any at all.

When in due course some of them end up becoming English teachers, they, too, will insist that past tense sentences must end with—and only with—the word "yesterday".

Condom Fight

2011-05-23T21:15:00.005+08:00

Benigno Aquino III, the President of The Philippines, is a brave man for advocating free access to condoms for the people of his country. He is under severe criticism of the Catholic church and a boxing champ. But he is going ahead with his plan to provide information on family planning methods, make contraceptives available free of charge, and introduce reproductive health and sexuality classes in schools.

Interestingly, Manny Pacquiao, a very successful Filipino world boxing champ, is against the President's plan. He argues that if his parents had practised birth control, he would never have been born. I think that's a very good argument, although regretfully, missing the point by at least a few thousand miles. He had forgotten that the President has to shoulder the responsibility of doing what's best for the nation as a whole.

I think if Pacquiao can guarantee the majority of Filipino births can give rise to millionaire world champs like himself, I'm sure the President would encourage his people to reproduce to create more wealth. But unfortunately, the reality is that there is only one world champion Pacquiao amongst 94 million people—about a third of whom live on $1 a day.

Pacquiao had forgotten that more than half a million women are seeking abortions at back-alley clinics because of unwanted pregnancies annually (abortion is illegal in The Philippines); and some 90,000 suffer from abortion complications, and an estimated 1,000 die each year.

Manila Archbishop Rosales is calling for abstinence [from sex] to solve the problem. That is almost a comical solution to me. Even Britney Spears used to pledge to abstain from sex, yet we all know that the mind is strong, but the flesh is weak, don't we?

I think President Aquino is doing the right thing in providing his people with the knowledge of family planning. The decision of whether to have protected sex or not is for his people to make. In fact, I think he owes it to his people to at least educate them on the subject. Whether or not the use of condoms and other contraceptives is a sin, that is their choice to make—not the President's, not the boxing champ's, and not the Church's.

Judgement Day

2011-05-21T10:31:00.002+08:00

No—this is not the Judgement Day of the Terminator movies. This is the Judgement Day as interpreted from the Bible through a complex series of calculations by one Harold Camping. But that is not the most amazing thing, really, as we all know that there are many, many nutcases in this world. The most amazing thing is that there are people who actually believe him!

Interestingly, Camping made a wrong calculation way back in 1994, when the Judgement Day did not happen. Presumably, he has corrected his mathematical formula—whatever it is—and arrived at a new conclusion; that Judgement Day is today!

Well, we're fast approaching noon here in KK, Malaysia, but I suppose it's still night time in America. It's not clear which time zone Camping is referring to, not that a few hours can make much difference anyway if the world is really coming to an end!

The thing about religious people is that it always boils down to one central issue—repent to secure a place in heaven; otherwise you will go to hell. No matter what religion, the message is always the same, that is to worship the "true" god to secure a place in heaven. Sometimes, there is an added element of time too, as in the case of Camping. Not only must you repent, but you must do it now!

If god is really such a cruel creature, who enjoys inflicting pains on his subjects, just because he has the power to do it, then I wouldn't want to be anywhere near him. I'd rather be thrown into hell. Love and respect can't be forced; they must be earned—even for god.

And so, as the hours and minutes wear away, to the dying moments of the world, I'm waiting for the punishment for the biggest sin that I have committed in my life—the mortal sin of not believing in the "true" god. In a few hours' time, when and if I appear before that conceited being up there in heaven to answer for my sin of unbelieving, I hope the punishment will be swift.

But on the other hand, if I live to see another sunrise tomorrow morning, I suppose Camping would be going back to the drawing board to recalculate the next date for the Judgement Day. I'll take my chances... keeping my fingers crossed...

1Malaysia—A Dream Within A Dream

2011-05-20T18:17:00.006+08:00

SHORTLY after becoming the Prime Minister of Malaysia, Dato' Sri Najib Tun Razak propounded the concept of 1Malaysia—an ambitious dream of equal treatment to all Malaysians irrespective of racial background.

It's hard to say if the 1Malaysia notion is merely a political ploy to win back the confidence of voters who voted for the opposition in the last general elections; or whether the Prime Minister truly means to give equal treatment to all Malaysians, but I would say it's probably a bit of both. If indeed the Prime Minister means what he says, then I'd say he's dreaming the impossible dream. For I can't see Malaysia transforming into the so-called 1Malaysia—at least not anytime soon.

In many ways, the non-bumiputeras of Malaysia have always been the less-privileged citizens. In terms of government projects, it is always the bumiputeras who will secure them. And in many cases bumiputeras are partners in major companies strictly because they can secure government contracts. In terms of important posts in government establishments, e.g. the police force, banking industry, universities, administrative bodies, these are overwhelmingly given to the bumiputeras.

No wonder when the Prime Minister first announced the 1Malaysia idea to the nation, many non-bumis were somewhat skeptical. But after a while some were convinced of the idea, and allowed themselves to indulge in dreaming the impossible dream too; hence a dream within a dream.

A year or two had since elapsed since the first time I heard of the 1Malaysia announcement, but I still see it, for the most part, as an ambitious—if not impossible—dream. Many, many government policies do not accord well with the 1Malaysia concept; and I don't foresee them to change—ever.

In the housing industry, for example, 30% of new houses are still reserved for the bumiputeras at discounted prices. If the policy is a matter of helping poor bumiputeras to own houses, I can accept it. In fact, I would welcome that policy. But it would be more reflective of the 1Malaysia concept if the 30% discounted prices are given to poor people from all races, as opposed to only the bumiputeras. Even more baffling is that the 30%-for-bumiputera rule extends even to high-class properties of, say, condominiums worth above RM500,000 each. I think it's pretty safe to assume that if an individual can afford a RM500,000 house, he is not exactly poor.

On the other hand, if policies are really changed in line with the concept of 1Malaysia, would it work? I'd say it's doubtful at best. Policies can be changed in a heartbeat, but the people who are supposed to put those policies into operation can't be changed overnight. If, for example, there is now a new policy that says government contracts should be awarded to companies based on merits, and not on race, would the people actually doing the selection process obey that policy? What do you think?

If, for example, there is a policy that says scholarships are to be awarded based on merits, and not on race, would the people actually sitting in the selection committee obey that policy? What do you think?

No—the 1Malaysia concept is just too far-fetched to ever become a reality. But it is a romantic idea, and many people would dream that it would become a reality one of these days.

KK Challenge 7

2011-05-18T20:04:00.008+08:00

Yesterday I clerked the KK Challenge 7, a treasure hunt which attracted 16 teams, each comprising 3 to 4 members. Actually, I entertained the idea of postponing the hunt because I haven't been able to spend the time to prepare. But in all the KK Challenges before this, I have never postponed any of them, and I decided to live up to my reputation.

Because of my marathon training, and then recently, cycling; and more recently still, swimming, I could hardly find the time to prepare for the hunt. But last Saturday, I was finally able to put my fingers to the keyboard and started to work on my KK Challenge 7. After the morning cycling, I embarked on the questions. Another break in the afternoon for the swimming lesson before continuing my work at night. Then on Sunday morning, after the 19km long run, I spent practically the whole day going round taking photos, preparing the tulips etc. I had anticipated that I'd need more time, so I had taken leave on Monday to work on the powerpoint answer presentation. Oh! so much to do!

But I somehow managed to get everything done by yesterday morning at the expense of having just 5 hours sleep.

The KK Challenge 7 saw several new teams, an element which I had taken into account when setting the questions. Incidentally, during the KK City Hunt in February, I had an opportunity to chat with Master Hunter Jayaram Menon who had come all the way from Penang. He said for an open hunt, it is better to give more easier to average questions, and perhaps only 5 tough ones. I took his advice and set my KK Challenge 7 with a generous amount of easy questions.

From what I could see, the teams liked it. I thought the blend was just the right mix. Most of the questions were solvable by even the new teams. Assuming a passing rate of 50%, 10 of the teams passed the hunt. But even those which failed only did so marginally. However, 2 very new teams score in the teens.

Just to share some of the questions which entertained most of the teams. At the Millennium Plaza, off the Penampang Bypass, I gave this:

Q21) ORCUPIN

I was there to watch some of the teams walking up and down that stretch several times in the hot sun. It wasn't a small signboard at all, and a few teams eventually found the intended answer. But I was amused to see some others which spent quite a while, baffled by the strange clue, and then eventually had to leave the sector with the wrong guess. Upon seeing me smiling, one of the hunters reacted.

"Aiyah, what kind of question is this oh?", he said, before answering the question himself, unknowingly, "no-head-no-tail bah!"

I merely continued smiling. If only he had listened to himself!

This following one was at my all-time favourite sector, the Lintas Square:

Q29) Although not courageous people, they aspire to become knights.

Quite honestly, I didn't mean this to be a very tough question. I think I have been fair to at least give something for the hunters to zoom in to, i.e. the word "YELLOW" that can fit "not courageous". If the teams had only investigated further on the remaining word, they probably had a good chance to be successful. In the end only 3 teams found the answer.

The following question is found at the very last sector. The sector is quite a long one, but there were relatively very few signboards. Well, at least few to be promising answers.

Q40) Mostly becomes expensive if...

A highly visible sign and literally standing on its own at the roof of a bus stop, away from the clusters of signboards within that sector. According to a member of the team that found this answer—they won this hunt, by the way—if this question was located in the earlier part of the hunt, he reckoned that perhaps more teams would have been able to solve it too.

Well, it was a very exhausting few days for me leading up to the hunt. By the time it was all over, it was such a relief! But it was all worth it, as I could tell that everyone had a good time.

The Champion team: Tembak Angin (combination of Main Tembak & Makan Angin)

The top 8 teams were:

1) Bernard Liew, Alvin Wong, Audrey Chin, Allister Kong (88/100)

2) Francis Omamalin, Eileen Yeoh, Lee Tze Jim, Moina Liew (83/100)

3) Jude Ripin, Norazimah Shazana Abdullah, Victoria Jingulam, Lee Hui Yeing (74/100)

4) Dr Liaw Yun Haw, Ellen Yee, Mary Lokupi, Felix Joikon (73/100)

5) Joanna Stidi, Suzanne Stidi, Adoree Malinjang, Josy Majalap (72/100)

6) Ryner R R Ripin, Roland Ripin, Ernie J R Ripin, Jenifer Julius Topin (72/100)

7) Harry Koh, Buddy Jiliun, Sophia Lai, Raymond Woo (71/100)

8) Talissa R Kiandee, Andrea Abidin, Callum Abidin, Robinson Ken (68/100)

* I will sort out the photos, but will only post the champions' here. The rest I will post at the Treasure Hunt FB later. Please bear with me.

Playing God

2011-05-09T21:00:00.004+08:00

One of my nieces posted an interesting link on her Facebook wall recently; an article posted by one of her friends entitled "HARI IBU ADALAH "HARAM" ya Allah baru tahu... SEBARKAN.." (Mother's Day is "Haram", O Allah [I] just found out... spread [the news])

A resourceful young woman who went to great pains to research the origin of the Mother's Day celebration. I must admit that I have not verified her findings myself, but I would take her word for it.

According to the author of that article, Mother's Day originated from Greece as a respect to Rhea, the mother of their God. She goes on to explain that in the 1600s England celebrated what was known as "Mothering Sunday", on the fourth Sunday after Lent. The celebration, she says, was as a respect to Mother Mary, the mother of Jesus whom they believed was [the son of] God. In the subsequent paragraphs, she continues with the development of the Mother's Day celebration to become what it is today. But I shall spare my readers from the details of those paragraphs. Suffice to say that they boil down to a single message—that the Mother's Day celebration had its origin on religious grounds, particularly Christianity. The implication is that because of the historical origin of the celebration, it is haram for the Muslims.

Sometime ago, while working out at the Likas jogging track with my running buddy, the subject of religion came up. My friend, who's a Christian, said something interesting to me. He said there are many, many religious rules and teachings which are nowhere to be found in the Bible. A major portion of religious teachings arise not from the holy book, but from interpretations of the verses therein. Too many people are trying to play God by declaring what's sinful and what's not according to their interpretations.

I see religious people quite often over-emphasise what's on the surface. Image means everything to them. If everything else fails, at least the image must be protected at all cost!

I'm a believer in God too, but I don't believe in religions. My relationship with God is slightly different from that of the religious people in general. I'm convinced that God, if he exists, would be more interested in what's in my heart, and what's in my mind. And I don't really care what's the origin of the Mother's Day celebration—whether it originated from Christianity, Islam or Buddhism, those are not important to me at all. What's more important to me is that the day is special to celebrate and appreciate my mother. As long as I mean the celebration as one for my own mother, where or how it originated is not important. That is not to say that I can't appreciate my mother on other days of the year. But I see nothing wrong to have a special day for the celebration.

In a similar way, even if it's true that the poco poco dance has its origin in Christianity, I don't see it as haram for Muslims if they perform the dance merely for exercise or even for the fun of it. That putting on a football jersey with a tiny cross on it is not haram if the person wearing that jersey does not mean it in a religious way. That performing a yoga exercise is not haram, regardless of its origin, if the person performing it does not mean it in a religious way.

There is little meaning of saying "I love God" if I don't mean it from the bottom of my heart. I think if God is truly almighty, he can see through the hijab, burkha and whatever veils, right into the hearts and minds. For the inner core is more important than what's seen on the surface.

But don't get me wrong; I'm not trying to play God myself by preaching what God is like. The truth is that I have no material evidence of my notion of God. The above are just my thoughts and opinions. So yes, I can accept that I may be wrong about God—he may appreciate what's on the surface much more than what's on the inside.

Onto The Saddle

2011-05-08T19:44:00.012+08:00

It must have been about a year ago, during a get-together dinner with some friends shortly after running a marathon, when the subject of attempting a triathlon came up. Quite honestly, I wasn't even seriously considering venturing into triathlon—not when I'm in my mid forties.

However, that was a significant start for a friend, Teo, who suddenly became so pumped up about the idea of doing something new. Together between him and Andrew, they ended up going bike-shopping in Manila a few weeks later in conjunction with a business trip. Shortly after that, Teo's road bike arrived on the shores of Sabah. Andrew's bike, a GIANT TCR came all the way from Singapore. Since then, Teo has been pestering practically everyone around him to buy a bike. The first thing he thinks of when he wakes up each morning is who else he can pester to buy a bike.

I was still not very serious about the triathlon. So I've been ignoring Teo's constant yapping about cycling. But he did manage to convince Dr Felice to buy a road bike, and then join him and Andrew for the sprint triathlon in Miri last October. After that event, Teo became even more obsessed in the subject of triathlon. In every 10 sentences he utters, one is bound to find the word "triathlon" therein!

Well, I'm still unsure if I'm ever gonna do a triathlon, but if ever I'm gonna do it, I'd rather that I prepare well for the event. I'm not a believer of doing something just for the sake of finishing it. I want to prepare and finish it to the best of my ability. It doesn't really matter if my best is a last place finish, but I want to know that whatever I achieve, I've given 100% to achieve it.

I've been putting off the cycling thing for a while, until Andrew decided to buy a new road bike earlier this year. Since I'm not particularly concerned about brand name or whether it's the latest model in the market, I bought the bike from Andrew at RM4,300 several weeks ago. Later on, I spent a good RM1,500 on the accessories. Before the recent Borneo International Marathon (BIM), for the most part, my bike was mainly sitting pretty at home, doing absolutely nothing except for a short tryout ride with Teo one Saturday morning. I found out that although I haven't been on a bike for a good 20 years or so, I could very quickly adapt to the road bike.

Now that the BIM is over, I reckoned it's finally time to embark on some serious cycling. It happened that there were 2 groups of cyclists for yesterday morning. One was that of a bunch of triathletes starting from Tg Aru and involved some hills for a total distance of 43km. The other group was that of Teo and his friends, starting from the Likas sports complex to Sepangar Port. According to Teo, the total distance was about 40km, give and take. Since it would be something like a first time serious cycling for me, I thought that it's prudent to join Teo's group.

So at about 5:50 am yesterday morning, I went to the Esso station near my home to rendezvous with Teo and his friend Derek. Together, we rode a slow 5km to the sports complex. There we met a few other cyclists. We then proceeded on to the coastal highway leading north to Yayasan Sabah and beyond.

Just a few minutes on the highway, I could already feel my thighs burning up. And I wondered if I could last the many more km ahead. Strangely, however, my legs very quickly adapted to the new punishment, and I surprised myself when I actually felt comfortable riding between 32kmh to 35kmh. I found out that cycling is way easier than running. The only thing that troubled me was the hard seat—the pain in my ass just killed me big time!

Beyond the KKIP, there were some undulating terrains, but it did not give me too much trouble. The journey to Sepangar Port wasn't very tough. But on the return leg, suddenly the rest in the group decided to make a detour into the Navy Base. I began to worry a bit since this detour wasn't in the original plan of what was supposed to have been a "slow and easy" ride according to Teo.

Then a few hundred metres upon reaching the Navy Base, Teo suggested that we should do a short sprint—"just for fun", he said. Not wanting to be the black sheep of the group, I obliged to a sprint. At the Navy Base, we paused for a short rest, and I finished the isotonic drink in my first 700ml bottle.

It was quite a relief to have survived the outing so far. But my happiness was short-lived, as the group decided to go for yet another detour all the way into the Karambunai resort. I began to worry again. Cycling wasn't as punishing as running, and right at that moment, I felt I could have easily endured another hour or two of cycling. Except that I had a one-hour swimming lesson scheduled in the afternoon. Still, I obliged, and soon found myself at the Karambunai resort.

It was already past 8am by the time we emerged from the Karambunai resort and it was already getting quite hot in the scorching sun. Thankfully, however, it was time to make our return journey. It wasn't really a race, but I was able to average around 33kmh to 35kmh all the way back to the Likas mosque, where the leading cyclists were contemplating going for breakfast of roti canai. But this time I declined, and Teo decided to accompany me. In the end, the rest abandoned the idea of breakfast too. I reached home around 9am, feeling quite exhausted after a total of 75km ride, but nowhere near the kind of exhaustion of running marathons.

I think cycling is a good form of cardio workout, and it's entirely possible that I can also benefit from the workout for my running. But I guess I will just have to wait till my next race to find out if it does indeed help!

In the afternoon, I arrived at the pool feeling like a zombie, but that, too, was a good workout. Then last night I slept like a baby, only to wake up at 4am for a 15km recovery run with Dr Peter starting from the Likas complex at 5am. Unfortunately, during the run, my legs felt like jelly, and I had to reluctantly cut short the distance to 12km only, thus barely escaping the morning rain.

I'm feeling dead tired now. It doesn't seem like I have it in me for a triathlon—the mind is willing, the flesh is just too weak. But I just love the challenge!

Borneo International Marathon 2011

2011-05-02T22:19:00.006+08:00

I wouldn't say that the Borneo International Marathon 2011 (BIM) was perfect, but I'd describe it as at least among the best I've joined so far. I've heard of regular runners complaining about the value of the goodie bags; or quality of the the finisher T-shirts. I don't look at those when assessing the success of the race.

This year, the BIM has attracted about 2,200 runners in all categories—a far cry from the huge crowds in even small races in West Malaysia. However, for the BIM, that figure translates into an increase of about 50% against last year's participation. I must congratulate Andrew Voon, the Race Director of BIM, who happens to be a good friend of mine. We ran marathons together in Penang last year, and more recently in Hong Kong. It was while we were in Hong Kong that I shared a room with him. I was able to get a glimpse of the kind of commitment required to pull off a successful marathon.

Andrew would tell you that I'd be among the first few people who'd be quick to criticize when the organiser screws up. And of course BIM didn't escape my criticism in the past! I've participated in all of Andrew's races so far, and I can attest that Andrew is improving the BIM all the time!

This year, Andrew managed to enlist a number of cyclists as race marshals on wheels. And I can say that the volunteers did a good job at the many drink stations spread evenly along the entire route. My only small disappointment was the fact that I had to suffer a terrible thirst on my return leg from Tg Aru (about 10.5km to the finish line). By about 4 hours into the race, all the drinks at the Segama drink station were gone. That's the station supporting all the race categories. And because that station was dry by then, I had to endure about 6km of thirst between the drink station near Sutera and the one about 2km before the finish line. Now on any ordinary training day, I can quite easily run 10km without a single drop of water. But when running a race beyond the 30km point, under the scorching sun, 6km is extremely hard to run without any drinks! So this is probably one thing Andrew can look into when organising future BIMs.

Speaking of the scorching sun, I think contrary to popular belief, the BIM is not really an easy race even though its terrain is almost fully flat. The hot sun during the last 10km-12km of the 42km is enough to drain 20km's worth of energy! Even regular marathoners are talking about the famous morning sun of Kota Kinabalu!

When I reached the starting line of the 42km race, the injury in my left foot had not recovered. As a matter of a Plan B, I took ponstan—a painkiller—about an hour before the race. That was the first time I took any painkiller before a race. Even when I ran the Hong Kong Marathon with a back injury in February, I refrained from taking any painkiller. But this time it's a bit different; I reckoned that I wouldn't have lasted the 42km without the painkiller.

During the first 10km or so into the race, my foot felt great. Just a bit of pain, but it was totally bearable. I and my running buddy, Dr Peter, ran side-by-side almost throughout the northern route. But as we were nearing the northern turning point, I realised that we were running somewhat too fast for the targeted 4 hours 30 mins. I reduced my pace a bit, but still keeping Peter in sight. As I reached the turning point, Peter had already started his return leg to the south.

The run was rather pleasant until I reached around 1Borneo on the return leg when I felt a slight pull in my right calf, and then soon after that, I felt a similar pull in my left calf. I looked at my watch and realised that I was still running too fast. I reduced my pace a little further and began to lose sight of Peter in the dark. It was just getting bright when I reached the 21km mark. I looked at my watch again and saw about 1:57, way too fast for a 4:30 target.

By the time I reached the Wisma Perindustrian roundabout, I suddenly merged into the crowd of the 10km racers. But I was still able to run comfortably. I ran all the way to Tg Aru, stopping to drink in almost every drink station along the way. On the way there, I saw some of my friends running the half marathon on their return leg. By then, I have developed cramps in both my thighs; and the pain in my left foot was becoming quite unbearable.

About 300 metres before reaching Tg Aru, I saw Peter on his return leg for the final 10km of the race. And my heart sank because I knew it there and then that I've lost my bet for the second time in a row! Frankly, I didn't have high hopes of beating Peter in this particular race, but losing is never easy on my pride, you see (smile)!

It was more or less about then that I shifted my focus—looking at my watch, I saw that I still had enough time to make the sub-4:30 target. It's gonna be close, but not impossible. The only problem was that the cramps in my legs and the pain in my left foot were beginning to bug me. All I had to do was to hope that my legs could still move. For as long as they could still move, it's a matter of enduring the pain that last 10km. Turning at Tg Aru roundabout and making my way back to the finish line, I was already struggling to endure the pain. By then the morning sun was already burning my exposed neck and arms.

The above photo, courtesy of Tey Eng Tiong (thank you), is just at the turn leading to the Wawasan roundabout.

Before long, I was reduced to the walk-run-walk-run routine. About a thousand steps later I arrived at a drink station just shortly after turning into the coastal highway from Jln Mat Salleh. And another drink station after about 900 steps later, a little after the Sutera Harbour Resort. I grabbed 2 cups of isotonic drink and continued my run. What followed next was the 6km run without any drink. I lost count of how many times I walked within that 6km. I've endured similar heat in past BIMs, but this time I felt it was more serious—I was at the verge of puking.

The last few kilometres was mainly about mental strength. Step by step until I reached the Wisma Perindustrian roundabout for the third time that morning. Turning into Jln Istiadat, I knew that I had about 1.3km to the finish line. Looking at my watch, I had a little over 9 minutes left for the sub-4:30 target. I ran-walked-ran-walked until the last 200 metres when I kept running, limping, and basically dragging my left leg to the finish line. Peter was there when I crossed the finish line just under 4:30 (Will have to wait for the organiser to publish the official results in a couple of days' time). Although I lost my bet to Peter, I'm happy that I at least improved last year's time by about 7 minutes.

Unfortunately, we were unable to find friends to help us take photos for the day. The above was taken by a FB friend who was there shortly after the race. Those are all happy faces. Gosh! my legs don't look too good in tights! (smile) From left to right: Yours truly, Dr Peter, Judy, Dr Liaw and Dr Felice.

Now that the race is over, I'm determined to take a break from running races to allow my legs a bit of time to fully recover. Running will still continue, but at shorter distances. To compensate, I'll be spending more time on cycling and swimming instead. Who knows, maybe I'm still in time for the 120km road race in late July!

For the Love of Nasi Lemak

2011-04-27T22:36:00.008+08:00

A few months ago, I posted an article entitled Obesity in Malaysia. In it, I quoted a news article that claims 30% of Malaysians are overweight, and 30% are obese. I went on to discuss my nephew's weight problem and his bad eating habit. Maybe it's me, but whenever I get a chance to meet the boy, I can see him growing sideways all the time. According to my brother, Dennis, a doctor told him that his son is already 14kg overweight now. And the kid is only 10 years old.

Then recently, there's the excitement of monitoring the kind of food they serve in school canteens. Apparently, the authority is trying to curb the problem of obesity among young children which appears to be on the rise. It is thought that if unhealthy foods are removed from the school canteens, that can at least help to a certain extent. I think that's a good idea. In fact, I don't know why no one thought of doing it much earlier than this.

Earlier this year, the Sports Club of my company came up with its own version of The Biggest Loser. Employees who fall within the definition of "overweight" based on this guide are automatically eligible to compete for cash prizes. Briefly, we're using the Japanese definition by referring the to scale of Body Mass Index (BMI). But unlike the TV reality show, we don't hire trainers to help them. So it's entirely up to them to figure out how to lose weight on their own. The weigh-in will be conducted every quarterly, and the person losing the most percentage weight will be declared the winner.

Anyway, coming back to the food found in our school canteens, we now have this hoohahs about the nasi lemak. Although it is obviously not a healthy food, for some curious reasons, some people are not in favour of removing it from the schools' menu. I don't quite understand why it would take a long time to find an alternative snack in place of the nasi lemak. Of course I'd expect a special committee will soon be set up to study the case of the nasi lemak in our schools. We're good with that sort of thing, you see—even nasi lemak requires special investigative research.

However, I'm not saying that I'm against all this. If the nasi lemak issue can only be resolved after an exhaustive "study" by some people who pretend to be "experts" on the matter, then I suppose we will just have to bear with them. But this thing about being overweight is actually not limited to school kids only, you know. Maybe some of the leaders of this nation should also heed the doctor's advice?

Apparently, the Deputy Prime Minister has a special interest in ensuring a healthy young generation in this country. I guess that is logical enough; I suppose a healthy workforce can result in a more productive nation for our future. But I wonder if the Deputy Prime Minister has ever determined what's his body mass index; I bet it'd be interesting to know where on the scale of BMI he is at right now.

Borneo International MarathonCountdown

2011-04-26T21:03:00.004+08:00

This is the final week leading up to the Borneo International Marathon (BIM). This year the race falls on a day that is perfect for the event—it falls on the 1st of May, i.e. Labour Day. And knowing very well the sizzling hot morning sun in KK, it would surely be a very torturous race. The only good thing I can think of is that the following day is a public holiday. So all of us will have an extra rest day after the race.

Incidentally, I was having lunch with Andrew Voon, the Race Director, together with some other friends today. Organising a marathon is no small feat, really. It is just so easy to screw things up like the recent mess in the Energizer Night Race just over a week ago. But having listened to Andrew on his very busy schedule, and the busy days ahead, no doubt, I'm confident that the event is in good hands.

Training has been quite smooth, except for an injury in the arch of my left foot. I think it has something to do with the new adiZero Boston which I bought during the Hong Kong Marathon in February. The adiZero is a good pair of shoes, but somewhat lacking in cushioning. I was, of course, aware of this when I bought the shoes, but I reckoned that I'd trade off the cushion for the lightness of the shoes in the hope of gaining speed. If it's just a matter of half marathon or shorter distances, I think they're just fine. But beyond that distance... well, apparently my left foot couldn't endure it with the adiZero!

I have since gone back to my LunarElite, but I'm afraid it's a bit too late now. So this Sunday, for the very first time, I plan to take pain killers prior to the race. Hopefully, that can help to minimise the torture of the race.

This evening, I ran a slow 5km in Likas. Another 7km run tomorrow; and a final 4km on Saturday morning, and that's all the running for this week before the race on Sunday.

Maybe it's nerves, but I somehow have a bad feeling about this particular race. I remember telling myself that if I could achieved a personal best in the Hong Kong Marathon, then I didn't have to try for another personal best in KK. I would probably wait for another race later this year before attempting another record. But as I get closer to the race, I'm thinking I should at least improve on the 4:36 I set last year. I've made up my mind if I could do a sub 4:30, I'd be happy.

Of course my bet with Dr Peter, my running buddy, is still on. I still want to win, but my priority is to try to at least improve on the 4:36. If I could also beat Peter, that would be the icing on the cake! But I seriously doubt it. Last Sunday, he did a 12km run within an hour fairly easily (I did it in 1:10), so I know I'm in big trouble against him! I'm not throwing in the towel yet; I will try very hard to win, even if it's going to be an uphill task!

In the meantime, I've already started making plans for post-BIM. I recently bought a secondhand road bike from Andrew. I'm venturing into cycling and swimming after the BIM, but I've been told that I'm too late for the Port Dickson Triathlon. However, there will be a KK Cycling Challenge on the same date in KK. So perhaps I can at least join that race.

Obviously, I will be quite hectic in the months ahead. But right now, the focus is fully on this Sunday. All systems go; bring it on!