Friday, April 15, 2005

The Yearly Occurence

Once a year, I don my running shoes and attempt to streak down the 100 m like I used to when I was in school. Except, I do it as part of the staff race and now, I just run in my sneakers, not bothering to find a pair of racing shoes to slip into. I also don't bother to eat right.

In days past, I would be wolfing enough bananas to feed a colony of monkeys. I would also be carb loading and fruit eating. Now, I indulge in buttery pies as the meal before the run. We had pies from Big Ben. Yum! Usually, I'm not a fan of anything resembling the smell of butter or milk, but these were quite irresistible so I had 2. As did all my other colleagues who were about to run. So, all of us had churny tummies before the run, during the run and straight after the run, proceeded to reception and refreshments to wolf down more food. There was great disapproval from the external track coach we hire.

This was the same guy that insisted, at 14 that I was to eat copious amounts fruit and salad. At 15, that I wasn't to eat meat because it was causing uric acid to build in my joints hence the injuries. At 16, that I should go totally vegetarian much to the great displeasure of my mother as she stood by her fall-ill-once-a-month daughter. At 17, I had broken free, went to college and never looked back and had shoved him into the deep recesses of my mind till one fine day in January, he turns up at my college and he's introduced to me as the new track coach.

Singapore is far too small.

But anyway, for a moment, after the run, I felt that I needed to get some sort of affirmation from him because of the long ago familiar sensations after a run. But I resisted it, walked the other direction and basked in the full knowledge that I could still manage a decent run even with 2 chicken pies wreaking havoc in my tummy.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 23:28

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