Kudokularigagahberani

The start of 6km dash. Gruelling!

I can't stop thinking of what an eventful Saturday that was, as I attempted to put my eyes to sleep at 1.30 a.m. last night. We win some, we lose some. Shall I put it that way? Perhaps, a part of it. We can just always judge from the following agendas that took place.

My Saturday morning started off with a run/race. Yes, I was crazy enough to risk my upcoming night half marathon for an occassion at my kids' school. They organised a Larian Integrasi for the kids. Daughter and son participated. Perhaps a simple support by ayah "the weekend warrior" would boost some motivations. Even better, I signed up for a RM3, 6km heart stomping dash. Mission : Podium. Hahaha. Crazy?! I don't know. You tell me. Considering the chances, I gave it a shot.

The race gave way for the Year 1 to Year 6. Consuming what was left of a cool morning running climate. The flagged-off for them was gruelling! My heart was pounding so hard watching them dashing away like it's a 100 metre sprint. With hudreds of them in each category, casualties in the main bunch was possible. Kids came tumbling on each other on those hard tarmac were so devastating. I can't help watching and volunteered myself to be the safety marshall, shouting at them to slow down. It seemed that the organizer was nothing more than Octagon. Safety was listed as number 10. Fortunately my kids took my earlier advise to stay back and pace themselves with the crowd safely.

The open (parents) category was flagged-off at 9.00 a.m.! The heat had started taxing on our run. With only a bunch of us, 20 I guess, remaining too far back was not a good option. Without any warmup (which may look obvious), I revved up a notch to catch up with the front runners. Det, my orang kampung running buddy was pacing slightly hard which in a way, a risky attempt, pushing our muscles in labour state. At 1km the back of the 4th runner caught my sight, 200 metres ahead I guess. I was so tempted to catch up on him did I not realise Det was left behind at the first incline. Now who was playing with risk instead eh? This 4th runner was a teenager and his shoe laces were loose. He knew that stopping to knot them up would risk his position. He carried on, ignoring my advise to tidy those laces as I passed his heavy panting.

Next target, the third runner, one of the school teacher. I can tell from his event t-shirt. Now it already sounded like a race. Suspense and determination filled the air. Feeling like a Kenyan yet? No lah, not even close...hahaha! Because I was not even dressed for a race. A 2kg cotton t-shirt and a baggy track bottom. Felt like running in a sauna room. Kids were all over the place. Some were walking, chatting, enjoying their companions and some were even teasing at me for not being able to catch up withe their teacher! Choit! Something of the opposite you'd expect in a race. Hahaha!

I was consistently closing the gap. Do or die. This is a chance in a million. Now or never. So you think you can dance? All sorts of quotes pouring in. The chase lasted for a kilometre. The teacher was "terkezut" when I ran along him giving a courtesy smile that lasted for 5 seconds. "Wheh! Lajunya?!" he said. I was informed earlier that he was the first runner up last year. No wonder la so tough to catch-up. His pace was good. Now he was pacing me instead. This was not good. In a race, the person behind will always have the advantage, so I read la. Perhaps it's true. I was pressured, and so were my legs. I doublechecked once in a few minutes, making sure a safe distance between me and him. Another kilometre to go, a small climb, that was where I decided to shift to fifth gear or whatever gear I have left.

Turn after turn, eventually I managed to lose sight of him. The last stretch, there was this Indian kid, he was not wearing the school t-shirt but a running vest with MSSD Hulu Langat written at the back. It didn't cross my mind that he was competing in my category. His small figure successfully disguised him as one of those primary school runner. No wonder he was shocked to see me behind him. He was the second runner la! Aiyo! How could I ever missed that?! He was running leaving me like he just saw a ghost. Kah! Kah! Kah! This was where our 35 years gap made a huge different. Perhaps his sixth or seventh gear deserved his second position as we crossed the finish line 10 metres apart. I was all good. A podium stand, a bronze and a box of six beautiful bowls for us to share in the family. Kids were so happy that daddy came home with a prize. Hero? Perhaps. Det came in fifth.

My tale doesn't ends here cause the Putrajaya Night Marathon 2010 had it's share of the Secret Saturday episode. An epic that was and an agony that followed. I'll be back...

The piece