Sunday, May 27, 2007

run, Ted, run

Last week did at least 2km for several sessions. Jacked the old ticker rate up to a racing 171/minute. Boy, that felt good. Compensating for having been careening off the course lately with the Diet, courtesy of those mamak breakfast sessions and Chili's/TGIF/Rahsia lunches and dinners.


I used to run a lot. Physically, that is. Competing, even. Love the rush of adrenaline. The building of momentum, of getting in the pace, from start to finish. The do-or-die moments when the end is near. The giddy euphoria of reaching the red tape at the finishing line.

Run, and run, and run.
My timing mantra : "1,2, buckle my shoe" rhyme.
Left-right, left-right.
Rubber soles pounding on the ground. Stadium track. Tar. Concrete slabs. Grass. Treadmill.

Occasionally I still do it these days. But very, very much less and only as a once-in-a-blue-moon session except last week. Competing? Sorry beb. Very the busy-bee. An hour on the treadmill is considered a luxury already.

In a previous life (like during the Paleolithic era) I finished a KL Towerthon in 26 minutes and 29 seconds. Came out a surprised champion in the school cross-country competition. Snagged gold for 1,500m and 800m track events. Held the starting baton for our 4x100m team. Took on the challenge of the local half-marathon.

Gosh, I want to be able to run like that again.

Spiked shoes!!

Saturday, May 26, 2007

counting the days

7 days to go.

pix source

Can't wait. Really need to get away from the o f f i c e in more ways than one. Ahem.

Don't be jeles, ek.

Admittedly, it's for a work-related event on Monday, but if everything goes well I'm gonna arrive on Saturday morning and treat myself to a nice H O L I D A Y first. Heck, I think I'm gonna treat the whole trip as a holiday as I'm only attending as a guest, supposedly.


P.S - By the way, I've decided I'm gonna stay put at the 16th floor instead. For the time being, that is.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

should Ted go...





But whichever way it's going to be (and depending on the powers-that-be), seems like I'm most definitely going to leave the 16th floor by the end of August.

Both looks promising in their own special ways and both sides look set to entice me the best way they could. Promotion, check-check. Travelling possibilities, double check-check. Environment, check-uhm. Colleagues, uhm-check. Going-up factor, check-check. Office politics, uhm-uhm. Learning curve and enjoyment factor, check-check.

And I'm still contemplating, long and hard.
Exploring all the possibilities, which will be up to me afterwards to actually realize 'em.

Options, options.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

grunge still ain't dead

[Nirvana doing 'Seasons In The Sun']

I honestly thought that grunge music is but another forgotten track in the annals of history already, put on shelves, best-by date past due, fit for archives and is only to be reminisced by those who had been there during its time. Whoever sings like this anymore?
We don't have to breed.
We can plant a house.
We can build a tree.
I don't even care.
We could have all three.

- Nirvana, Breed

Well apparently there's still new fans tuning in to this particular strain, as I listened in amazement at the fresh-faced 20-yr old I talked to last night whom professes his love for "grunge, Nirvana and also other underground music".

grunge - I've not even heard anybody say that word, for, dunno. Some time lah. But it's not something I'd expected to hear about anymore.

Here's one to Kurt Cobain, RIP.

Perhaps I'm just getting old. Haha.

In the meantime -
I'm on warm milk and laxatives
Cherry-flavored antacids
Sit and drink Pennyroyal Tea
Distill the life that's inside of me

- Nirvana, Pennyroyal Tea

clueless and barriers

It's ok for me when it's Biah, who has known me for quite some time now and to whom I've opened up to unashamedly, with whom I've shared a lot and had shared back with me no less, who had re-discovered our long-lost (haha so drama) friendship back during #ujiminda craze in MiRC, whom I've let in to see me in some of my despair moments and witnessed my outbursts, had seen me cry and push people away, had laughed with me silly and hard over the smallest things - when she's able to read me like an open book and tell me things about me that is so right and so true and I've known it all along but would never say out loud, it's still okay with me, coz it's Biah, and she knows, she does know a lot, she's been there, she's been with me, and it's okay that she knows. I'm damn glad she knows, and damn good of her to tell me like it is.


When it's someone who has just barely gotten to know certain sides of me, someone who I've only known in passing all these while before, and to whom I've barely even opened up to save mostly for our banters of fun and good times and laughs - when he suddenly blurted out last night at point-blank range just ONE thing about me, with the resonant so right and so true and with such ease in his words, after which I failed miserably in trying to say he's wrong. For he wasn't. And he looked so smug there, in saying it like it is and telling me as if he knows it so well too.

It unsettles me. To be read like an open book like that. And the thing is I don't think he even realized doing it.

Now I know why is there all those barriers around me all these while. Why I put them there in the first place. Why it'll be there still. Regardless of the fact that I know now some people might still see through them, though I haven't the slightest clue how.

Like, freaky gila.