Off The Arse

The other day, I exercised (after a shameful 18-month spate of sitting on my arse). And it didn’t involve a TV remote, a tub of butter or anything resembling a donut. I had to yank a fair bit of cobweb off my running shoes but I did it. Four days in a row, in fact.  I know. I was practically an Olympian.

And then I crashed. And proceeded to sit on my arse for another two months. I fear I’m on the verge of another sofa-bound 18 months which might just be the thing that does me in and turns me into the size of a house.

So, to bring this sinister turn of events to a screeching halt, I have devised a 5-point action-cum-motivation plan:

AIM LOW
You know how people are always encouraging you to reach for the moon so even if you don’t reach it, you fall and land on the stars? Or something to that silly effect. I say bollocks to that. I aimed for the moon – four times, no donut – and look how that turned out. I believe the secret to success lies in aiming low. Aim to get off the arse twice, nay, once a week. And when you do get off the arse once a week, you’ve achieved success. Success, no matter how pathetic, bolsters the spirit and heartens the soul. And this success will springboard, nay, skyrocket you to a whole new level. I call this level Twice-A-Week, which will bring you to (dare I say) Thrice-A-Week, which is the number of times experts all around the world tell us to exercise each week. And to think it all began with aiming low.

CLICK LIKE
As with everything you’re going to be doing for a prolonged period of time, you have to like it. Or at least not hate it. Having a goal (“I’m going to lose 30kg in two months”) or an endpoint (“I’m going to run until the end of this farmhouse”) is useless. I know because I used to have them. And once I achieved them, that was it. I realise I could have set another goal but that wasn’t a pudding I felt like diving into. My point is, if you enjoy doing it, chances are much higher that you will continue doing it. Exercising, that is. What did you think I was talking about?

FEAR FACTOR
Nothing motivates like fear. Picture somebody you would rather die than look like. Preferably somebody you know in real life and not like, the fattest dude in the Guinness Book of Records or something. Every time you are tempted to blow off a workout, think of him/her and how it would feel to look like him/her and how you’d never want anyone to be picturing your body if they were tempted to blow off their own workout.

GO NUDE
Take a good look at yourself in the nude. Doing this usually elicits two responses: (1) wah lau, I look like a house/whale/elephant/insert name of any other generously sized creature, or (2) wah lau, I look damn freaking hot. If you think you look like a house/whale/elephant, you’re probably right. This should motivate you to exercise so that you do not continue to look like a house/whale/elephant. If, on the other hand, you think you look damn freaking hot, seeing yourself in the nude should motivate you to work at maintaining the hot body that you have so that you never ever wind up looking like a house/whale/elephant.

POINT FIVE
I never had a fifth point. I just think it’s bad luck to stop at four.

Coming Clean

For some reason, people (meaning the five people who read my blog – bless you) have the impression that I’m some workout warrior who bolts out of bed at the crack of dawn, all iron-willed and disciplined. That’s not an accurate picture. I am really a lazy arse who’d much rather slug around the house all day surfing porn on my laptop. No la, I’m kidding. (About the porn, of course, what kind of perv do you think I am?)

Porn aside, I confess that dragging my butt out of bed in the morning to go run is a struggle every time. They say doing something consistently for 30 days will make it a habit for life. They freaking lied. It sucks every single time. Just like it sucked a few weeks ago.

I crawl out of bed at 6am one morning after several fruitless minutes of tug-of-warring with my Evil Nemesis. She’s the one who says things like, “The bed is so nice and warm and soft … do you really want to get up and get all sweaty … wouldn’t you rather go back to sleep …” I persevere and win the battle, but just barely.

My Evil Nemesis taunts me as I mindlessly chomp on two bars of milk-soaked Weet-Bix. “Come on … you can still sms your friend to cancel … skip one day won’t die lah … besides, you think she don’t wanna go back to sleep meh? … you’ll be doing her a favour!”

And that’s when it happens: it starts to drizzle. It’s 6.20am. I feel a guilty little jolt of – dare I say it – joy. Yippy, I silently think. Yippy yippy yippy, sshhhh. Now I can slink back to bed and not be harangued by another nemesis of mine: the Guilt Gorilla.

Maybe it’ll stop raining soon, I tell myself in an attempt to smooth over the burgeoning waves of guilt. “You say this but you’re not fooling anyone, you crafty coyote. You secretly want it to rain harder!!” thunders Guilt Gorilla.  I ignore him. I wait until 6.45am. It’s still pouring.

I text my friend. Below is our actual sms exchange, verbatim:

WY (6.46am) I leave house at 715 la raining
SL (6.47am) ok. Its dark huh

I go back to bed for a few minutes. Sleep doesn’t come. I text her again.

WY (7.13am) raining la. Shit. Is it raining at your side?
SL (7.15am) its wet la but stopped drizzling already
SL (7.16am) eh now raining la
WY (7.17am) Yalor, I’m in garden. Raining! Ok back to bed!!
SL (7.20am) Ok haiyor just now it din rain b4 we got up rite
WY (7.22am) raining since I got up leh … cancel la. Dowan run in drizzle!
SL (7.24am) oh ya gah. It was dark la, can’t really see u can’t do evening?
WY (7.25am) actually its stopping. Ok ok. Lets go now. Meet you thr!
SL (7.27am) still raining here la. I undress d haha
WY (7.29am) I’m gonna leave house. Ok la if u go, I’ll c u thr lor
SL (7.32am) I dowan to walk when its drizzling leh, my arthritis pain wor!

I put on my cap and head out anyway. The moment I drive out, the rain gets heavier. That joyful little jaunt that’s been dancing around in my belly turns into a frenzied chicken dance. I text my friend with all the “regret” I can muster.

WY (7.33am) I drove out n rain heavier, so turn back. I give up!
WY (7.34am) evening prob I can’t but see how. I’ll msg u abt 5pm
SL (7.35am) ok we try evening if u can

We don’t. Instead, we spend the whole morning and the rest of the day … slugging around the house surfing porn.

Screw Discipline. I’m Going Back To Bed

I feel like crap. I have run no more than three times since I got back from the Singapore Marathon in December and I will say it again: I feel like crap. I’m battling a combination of wretched guilt, some extra poundage (I don’t know how much cos I don’t own a scale) and a crippling feeling of malaise. Before I bumble any further, I should explain my use of the word ‘run’. By ‘run’, I mean a pathetic attempt at walking and jogging and whining all at once – a Herculean feat especially since I have literally crawled back to square one as far as my stamina is concerned. It’s awful. I don’t know where that 2009-ME has gone. The one with all the discipline, drive, enthusiasm, energy … it’s like she died last December and left this miserable 2010-ME in her place. I do not like this 2010-ME. It’s a defective model.

So I’m going to get my act together … right … after … Chinese New Year. No no no no-o-o-o-o. Right now, right now. To get started, I shall now inspire myself with some quotes about the one thing I need the most right now: discipline.

“It was character that got us out of bed, commitment that moved us into action, and discipline that enabled us to follow through.” (Zig Ziglar)… My commitment and discipline have gone bust but I think I still have a smidgen of that character left. Now if only I can find it …

“Discipline is remembering what you want.” (David Campbell) … I seem to have forgotten in the face of other seemingly important, more ‘pressing’ things …

“Lack of discipline leads to frustration and self-loathing.” (Marie Chapian) … Self-loathing – yeah, plenty of that going around right now …

“We must all suffer from one of two pains: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret. The difference is discipline weighs ounces while regret weighs tons.” (Jim Rohn) … I have a horrible feeling that regret will indeed one day weigh tons – literally …

“No evil propensity of the human heart is so powerful that it may not be subdued by discipline.” (Seneca) … Well, I guess the desire to lie around in bed and have bacon bits for breakfast can be considered by some to be ‘evil’, can’t it? …

“If we do not discipline ourselves, the world will do it for us.” (William Feather) … Well, either the world or nature itself …

Hmm, so am I sufficiently inspired? I don’t know. Ask me tomorrow when I’m trying to get out of bed early in the morning. Ask me then.

Get Fit In 6 Minutes A Week!

Okay, somebody give me a cord. I want to strangle a researcher. First, they say don’t eat eggs, high cholesterol. Then they say, can eat eggs. Then, they say every day must take vitamins. Then, they say taking vitamins may be bad for you if you exercise. Then, they say every day must exercise for at least 30 minutes and now they say …

… 6 minutes of exercise A WEEK is enough to get fit. What the …??!!!

According to the Wellness blog at NYT, some researchers in Japan – after completing another grueling study on the collagen-boosting properties of wasabi sandwiches, I’m sure – decided to dump a bunch of rats in a big pot of water. One group (let’s call them Rodents A) was made to paddle for six hours and the other group (let’s call them Rodents B) was made to paddle furiously for 20 seconds. To make things more interesting, the researchers piled weights on Rodents B (what savages – and by savages, I mean the researchers, not the rodents). Rodents B was then allowed to rest for 10 seconds and then, dunked back to swim intensely for another 20 seconds. This was repeated 14 times, totaling about 4 over minutes in time. Then all the rodents were scientifically poked and prodded, and researchers found that the molecular changes – whatever that means – were the same in both groups of rats.

So the conclusion was, and I quote, “Six minutes or so a week of hard exercise had proven to be as good as multiple hours of working out for achieving fitness.”

And then, the killer question: Could it be that most of us are spending more time than we need to trying to get fit? Apparently, more and more sports scientists are beginning to say, “Yup.”

Aiya, so what is it now? 90 minutes, 60 minutes, 30 minutes, 15 minutes, 6 minutes? A month, a week, a day? Morning time, afternoon time or evening time? Rats or rodents? Gerbils or hamsters? Come on, hurry up. I haven’t got all day, you know. I have to go drown myself in a pot in precisely six minutes.

I’m Delusional And I’m Liking It!

It’s official. I am suffering from DSS: Delusional Disorder Syndrome. That’s the only plausible explanation for why I just did what I did. What did I do, you ask? Um, I signed up for the Penang Bridge International Marathon. (Loyal reader: “Cheh, big deal …”) Wait, wait, I’m not done. I signed up for the PBIM 21K. (Loyal reader: “21?? You siau or what? Lu ai si ah??”)

See, I’m right: I am a crazy person. Not only do I suffer from DSS, I also suffer from a chronic case of DFFOL (Do First, Freak Out Later). I’ve had it ever since I was a child. Some people admire this – they call it a sense of exuberance, passion and boundless enthusiasm. Some people just think I’m plain nuts.

I’m beginning to be convinced that I may fall into the latter category. I was filled with exuberance, passion and boundless enthusiasm when I happily keyed in my credit card information and registered myself online. The reality of what I did didn’t sink in until oh, a few days later when I suddenly realised three things:

1. The 21K starts at 3am, which means we have to be at there at 2am. Omg.
2. 21K is very, very f-a-a-a-a-a-a-r. It’s 52.5 loops around a 400m track! It’s from PJ to Damansara! It’s 21,000m! Okay, now I’m freaking out.
3. The qualifying time for 21K is three hours, which means I’m supposed to run that whole distance in three hours or less. I’ve never even walked 21K and now I’m going to run it?? Omg.

But you know what? I think that thinking is the enemy. Which is why I plan to put a stop to thinking. That’s right. I’m going to stop thinking. Forever. It has brought me nothing but grief – the vicious cycles of over-analysis, tortuous self-debates, why this why that, what if this what if that … I’ve discovered that the more I think, the more self-doubt creeps in. Doubts like:

• Are you sure this isn’t just another one of your harebrained schemes to prove something to the world?
• You’re not as tough as you think la, remember that time when [insert unfortunate incident here]?
• Even [insert friend’s name here] is only doing the Fun Run, you think you’re better than him/her/them meh?
• What if you wind up Last in the race? Really no face la, especially since you went and announced it on your blog like a big shot!
• Eh, it’s very intimidating to run with real marathoners, you know. These people are fast!
• What if you get a headache / stomachache / toothache / leg ache / bad hair day? How to run like that?
• You’re jumping the gun la. You should wait until you’re ready and sure you can do it before going out there and embarrassing yourself and your mother / father / brother / sister / dog / cat.

Yeah, these thoughts plague me every now and then. But being a sufferer of DSS, DFFOL and an avowed anti-thinker, I’m able to rise above these debilitating thoughts. So I’m here to say yes, I will be attempting the 21K and I will finish it and I will look back and be glad I did it.

Running Quotes Guaranteed To Get You Off Your Butt

I love quotations … I’m sure you can tell if you’ve read my About My Blog page. Being a person who’s pretty obsessed with words, I’m constantly amazed at how such great truth and insight can be squeezed into one tiny little sentence, making it so powerful that it can transform the way you view something forever.

Since I’m masquerading around like a somewhat health-conscious, fit person in my blog (I wonder how many people I’ve managed to fool so far), I’m going to take it one step further and share with you some quotes that motivate me or simply make me laugh.

8) It’s mental until you pass out; then it’s physical.
I don’t know who said this but hahahaha! And you know why it’s so funny? Cos it’s true!!!

8) The miracle isn’t that I finished; but that I had the courage to start. John Bingham
Being the author of books like ‘Marathoning for Mortals’, ‘The Courage to Start’ and ‘No Need for Speed’, you know this guy is rooting for the non-super human athletic machines.

8) There are clubs you can’t belong to, neighbourhoods you can’t live in, schools you can’t get into, but the roads are always open. Nike
Nike always has the most amazing lines and this is one of my favourites. It’s so powerful: running is the great equaliser. It’s just something everyone can do.

8) Run like you stole something. Daniel Farrow
Haha, this is funny. It’s a good trigger, isn’t it? Just imagine the ISA coming after you with tear gas.

8) Are you going to be a wimp or are you going to be strong today? Peter Maher
I like his no-nonsense approach: wuss, weakling, baby, lousy good-for-nothing crap of a … sorry, I’m getting a little carried away.

8) Pain is temporary; quitting is forever. Lance Armstrong
When you’ve had testicular cancer and have staged a mighty comeback to win the Tour de France seven times in a row, whatever you say is gold.

8) Run if you can, walk if you have to, crawl if you must, just never give up. Dean Karnazes
At the end of the day, it’s not going to matter if you ran, walked or crawled past the finish line … but once you give up, you’re going to have to live with that sorry fact for the rest of your life. That’s gotta suck.

8) Your slowest run is still faster than sitting on the couch.
I’m going to start telling myself this whenever I feel bad for not pushing myself hard enough or if some fat-arse makes fun of me. I’m just gonna say, “Hey fatty, I may be slow but I’m still faster than your big fat good-for-nothing crap of a … oops sorry, getting carried away again.

8) N-n-now that that don’t kill me can only make me stronger. Kanye West
Yup, as long as I don’t die, I’m getting stronger, faster, better, smarter … unless I die, of course, which would then make this kinda depressing.

8) You never regret a run. There’s hardly anything in life you can say that about. You’ll regret a chocolate sundae. www.webmd.com
This is my all-time favourite. I’ve never regretted dragging myself out of bed to go for a run but I’ve always regretted sleeping in, and let’s not even start on the chocolate sundae!

Oh Goody, My Endorphins Aren’t Broken After All!

Ah, that elusive runner’s high … kinda like drugs except that it’s cheaper and doesn’t land you a mandatory death sentence. I want that high. In fact, I think I may have experienced it a teensy weensy itty bitty bit recently.

First of all, let me declare my fitness status: I’m not a marathoner or anything grand like that. There’s rarely a point during a run when I don’t think:

a)      Oh my god, I’m going to pengsan.

b)      Why am I doing this to myself when I can be sleeping in bed?

c)       Oh my god, I’m going to pengsan.

So that should prove to you that I’m not really a bona fide Runner by any standards. And if you’re still not convinced, please read my FAQ page.

My point is (and I do have one!) that despite my lame running, I think I experienced a bit of that high one morning after I did my measly 3km. While driving to work, I found myself singing in the car – you may not know the significance of this but I only sing when I’m happy. Can never do it when I’m stressed or upset or preoccupied (which means that I haven’t done it in a loooooong time). I just felt a little high … and that ‘high’ lasted all day and even throughout the next day. I had no real reason to be happier than usual or anything, but I just was. That’s not to say I was all Yoda on the mountain despite the insanity at work; just that things that may have pissed me off or upset me last time seemed to have less of an effect. It was a little odd.

And it’s no longer some airy-fairy concept anymore either: researchers in Germany have proven that running does cause a flood of endorphins in the brain. And the harder you exercise, the more endorphins are pumped out and the happier and calmer you feel. They also proved that the flood of endorphins helped to increase your pain tolerance (maybe that’s why I can take more crap than usual). In fact, the researchers likened the feeling after a good run to being “in love”. Read more about the study here.

I find this very exciting – after all, the runner’s high was unproven and widely considered a myth until recent years. To know that it’s been proven that there are actual chemical changes happening in the brain when you run (or do any other intensive exercise) is fabulous. Only 3km and already I can feel some endorphins kicking. If I do 10km leh? I’ll be bouncing off the walls!

Oh, The (Exercise) Guilt Is Killing Me

I haven’t worked out since Jan 10 – it was the day before I left for Tokyo. It has been a grand total of 18 days. Gulp. That’s 2½ weeks. More than half a month. To make matters worse, I’ve been piling on the ba-kua, kuih kapit and pineapple cookies for the past several days … plus I’ll be going to Cambodia this Saturday and won’t be back in KL until next Thursday. Oh god.

I know what it is: my routine’s been screwed up this month. It’s been a very chaotic first-month-of-the-year – there have been some significant changes taking place and I guess I’ve just been too distracted to work out. For me, working out has always been more mental than anything. If I’m not in the right frame of mind, I find it so much harder to do.

This is silly. I should be looking forward to my trip this weekend instead of mulling over how many more ‘workout days’ I’m gonna be missing. Besides, I know the dust will settle once I get back next week and I’ll get back into The Routine … and until then, I should stop treating this like it’s some kind of huge failure on my part.

*Gives self two tight slaps*

Yeah. I guess that’s what I’ll do.

I Heart My New Shoes

I got a new pair of running shoes. Finally!! I know that shoes are the most important thing when it comes to running (next up is a good sports bra) but I’ve been too preoccupied with what I’m wearing from the knees up to worry too much about the shoes. But I gotta do this um, “thing” next weekend which requires a good pair of shoes – don’t ask me what; you’ll know soon enough – so I had no choice but to go shoe-shopping.

This may come as a shock to some of you but I don’t actually like shopping. Seriously. I don’t. I think it’s a major pain in the butt. I’m not one of those girls who can spend an entire day going from store to store to store window-shopping. I’m vehemently against window-shopping. If you got no money, stay home la. What’s this window-shopping nonsense?? You go into a store, you BUY SOMETHING. Otherwise, you’re just taking up space. For me, if I need to buy something, I’ll go to one or two stores and if I don’t find something I like, I get bored and start looking around for a cinnamon bun.

So with my shoes, I went to New Balance (after quickly deciding that I’d be insane to buy another pair of Nikes). The guys there were very professional, extremely helpful and they sure knew their stuff. Which was great cos I sure didn’t know mine. I was so impressed by the service that I very nearly bought the shoes on the spot. Problem was, I couldn’t stand the way they looked. They were bright orange (which was really cool) but they also made me look like the Ronald – as in McDonald. Yes yes, I know. It’s not about how good/bad the shoes look; it’s about how well/poorly they fit you, blah blah blah. I’m sorry la but for me, it’s always about HOW THE SHOES LOOK. Come to think of it, it’s always about how EVERYTHING looks, but let’s not get into that kettle of fish just yet.

Anyways, that dismal shopping attempt was a month ago. Last weekend, I went to Studio R. Tried on various brands but wasn’t too excited about any of them. Then I tried on a pair of Asics and omg, I fell in love. They were absolutely perfect. They felt amazing and they looked great. I paid for them right away. No cinnamon bun for me today.

You know how in relationships, you know when you find The One (you also know when you find The Wrong)? That’s how it is with shoes. When you find The One, everything is just … right. Then you start spending lots of time together, and the shoe/guy loses some of his initial lustre, begins to chafe/annoy you, starts to get scruffy/gain weight, gives you bunions/grief, starts to look old and boring next to the newer, snazzier models … but that’s a long way from happening (I give it six to eight months tops).

For now, I’m optimistic me and my Asics will have a long, happy relationship. Unfortunately, this relationship’s gotta wait a while before it’s consummated – I’ve been nursing a damn fever since I brought them home!!!

Exercise A Must (Oh Is It?)

I wake up this morning feeling lazy. I’m supposed to get in a short work out before heading off to the office but I don’t feel like it. I’m having my coffee and flipping through the papers, a battle raging in my head: maybe I should work out, maybe I shouldn’t, maybe I should, maybe I shouldn’t, should, shouldn’t, should, shouldn’t. The ‘shouldn’t’ was winning until I turn the page and see this.

The headline reads: Exercise a must, says Rosmah (huh?). Apparently, we are to “spend about half an hour each day to do some physical exercise to keep fit and healthy (oh is it?). Just 20 to 30 minutes a day is sufficient as long as it is done continuously (really ah?).” She then tells us to embark on healthy “activities like aerobics, going to the gymnasium or taking part in jogathons.” (All this coming from a woman whose only form of exercise, as far as I can see, is balancing a head full of hairspray).

After wiping away the tears of laughter coursing down my cheeks, I hop onto my machine and pedal furiously for a good 45 minutes. Then I go wash out my eyes with chilli padi. There’s only so much Fat & Ugly I can handle in one morning, you know.

Yes, I understand the government is trying hard to get the rakyat off their butts and lose some poundage, but come on. If you really want to make exercise appealing, stop putting up pictures of men who look like they’re nine months pregnant and women who look like they just ate their kids for lunch.

God, I need to erase all the Ugly I’ve just witnessed.

Okay, that’s much better. And for added measure …

… ah … now … um, what were we talking about again?