Race Against Cancer Run 2011

Yes, another run. And I might go back on my word, but I possibly might never want to do another run like this again. Of course 10km and 12km seem like a small pie in the sky as compared to real runs, like 42km and 100km, but hey, we all can't be marathon runners.

Joe and I signed up for the competitive 10km run. It was either this or 15km. Thank God I decided not to sign us up for the 15km one. Today's 10km was tough itself. The 10km run started at 7.45am, so I had to get up at 5.30am in the morning, which is completely insane. I mean who runs at 8am in the morning right? And why must they schdeule this run at such an insane time of the day? The streets near my house were practically deserted when Joe and I met to flag a cab to East Coast.

All in the all, I felt that this run was much harder to complete as did the 12km one. I think its because I felt more, relaxed about this race, seeing as how its only 10km so I figured I could run faster and be done with it. But I was wrong. Hoo boy. I promised I wouldn't stop to walk or anything except during the water breaks, but I broke my vows. I could feel the muscles of my trunk start to contract and tighten and it felt I was going to shrink. That's when I knew that my muscles were fatigued and I ran too quickly during the first few kilometres. I kept telling myself that you absolutely cannot stop because your goal run the entire race for under an hour. But in the end I gave out and walked at certain points for about 1 to 2 minutes before lugging my ass into running mode. When I recounted this to Joe, he said he experienced the same too, and he epplained that we might have started out too fast at the beginning of the race, seeing as how we might have perceived this race as "easier to complete than 12km". That made me feel slightly better because I thought my fitness had deproved. Even experienced runners like Joe experience this.

Anyhow, during the first 5km of the race, I was eyeing these 3 Caucasian lades who were so incredibly tall. The thing that frustrated me about them was the fact that they were so gay and relaxed about the run. They were laughing and talking and their legs just seemed to move so efficiently. It's clear that these women were experienced runners. So I told myelf that I'd overtake these 3 women. And I did. For another 3km before I totally caved in. They were practically at my heels and I was thinking to myself "Serene you had better be ahead of these 3 chicks and move your ass!" But bejesus, these women were tall. Their legs were so long and their strides were so long, my short legs had to cover twice as much distance to match the length that they covered. And they didn't even seem tired. They were giggling and chatting and waving their arms about the air. They might have been running through a field of daisies instead of running in a bloody park under the bloody hot sun.

Eventually they overtook me and I was all "sod it", because I had to pause to take a walk before I could run. The thing about endurance runs is that they get so boring! What's so interesting about running alongside foreign workers sleeping on benches and people sitting in tents and with the occasional small of barbequeing food? The only things I found interesting were the pretty litte dogs, Caucasian babies and how good looking some of the Caucasian male runners were, especially the ones who are serious competitive runners. Coming with all sorts of fancy gizmo and running wear.

I was just about dying toward the last 2km. It's as though the signs that state the number of kilometres we had run were rigged. I was about thinking "Where is the hell is 9km?!" I mean, I was running the same route as I did with the Passion Run, but I wasn't mentally prepared to handle the lst 2km. Eventually, when I reached the yellow gates, I sprinted to the end and took the finisher's medal, mineral water, Yakult (warm, yuck!) and bread and staggered back to the baggage collection point where Joe and I agreed to meet. I grabbed my bags and sat on the ground under the tent and just stared at the ground. It had been such a long morning, yet it was only 9am!

Then Joe came and we were arguing about the accuracy of my watch and alleged timing of 1hour and 3 minutes, and I told him about how failed attempt to pace these 3 Caucasian ladies and much to my bemusement, he told me the exact same thing, and went on to say that the 3 of them actually stayed near East Coast and just about every morning because he'd seen them before.

We went off to meet J, who were volunteering with her brother, at the drinks stand while waiting for the crowds to disperse. J's words of advice may have not yet fully punctured my intesne worry about weird roommates. I don't care what people say. I'm getting an apartment. I need my own space to study. J said maybe my roommate will be a total party girl and not be in the room most of the time until late into the night. I don't know. There are too many uncertainties. I hate uncertainties. I like sure things and solid facts. They make me feel secure.

So it was lunch at the food court in Bedok for the 4 of us, and Joe and I headed home, while J and her brother went for church service. I've yet to make a decision about whether or not I should go to camp. Truthfully speaking, I don't like camping and staying overnight. I wouldn't mind the camp activities and bonding sessions, but I just have problems with sleeping in sleeping bags and bathing in slimy cubicles, and being in sweaty shirts and shorts the whole day.

Aaargh. Decisions. Why must camps be overnight?