Will we bother?

Recently, Micah True's autopsy report highlighted a burning issue that sparked heated debates among marathoners about the implication of undiagnosed cardiac disease, pretty much like a hidden time bomb amongst the unassuming running community.

I remember writing about the same topic some time ago. Reference: here. But as I read it again, I am doubtful of it's relevance and value to the readers, despite my sincerest intention to educate....

I realize the issue is not the science in the article. Most of us that are remotely familiar with Google would have no difficulty downloading pages upon pages of scientific data to satisfy even the most avid science junkie. But the burning issue, it dawned upon me, is to get people to want to DO something about it.

As a doctor, it is my duty to keep my patient abreast with the DOs and DON'Ts as well as PROs and CONs of their illness and treatment options. But more often than not, most colleagues would agree with me that you can speak until your saliva dries up or your face turns blue, but to get some people to change their ways is just too darn hard! A simple example is to get a person to quit smoking. You can tell them about the health hazard and paint a dreadful terminal stage cancer scenario, tell them about the cost of each cigarette and outline the money they can save by quitting, even show them the picture of a cancerous lung tissue or dead fetus.....it's all on the cigarette boxes by the way...yet they are undeterred. 5 minutes later, they are squatting at the stair ways, puffing away.

A different mindset is obviously at work. Battling your most valiant attempts to make a believer out of him. Runners, though generally a motivated bunch, are no exceptions either. Just because we have 10-20 or 100 marathons under our belts, we think we are impervious to any of the human conditions. We may think we are "super human". But we are still, just human.

The human nature is resistant to change. And we are much too complex for our own good. To cause a paradigm shift in any of these cases would require more than the usual health campaigns, taglines, bumper stickers or even a stern warning from our favourite physician.

So, what will make us more receptive?  What moves us to change our mindset?

Nothing. No amount of sound advice, emotional pleading, blackmailing...Not even if you make it mandatory. It seems hopeless....but it doesn't mean we stop trying.

This is with a hope that someday, somehow, with all this over-exposure and bombardment of advices and coercion, one out of a thousand may suddenly have an epiphany or experience an enlightenment. He begins to take matters into his own hand and decides: I WANT to do something about this!

Then all the effort would have been worthwhile.

Finally, there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Borneo International Marathon 2012

Fresh from Boston (merely 3 weeks ago), and with my sun scorched tan, reminiscence of the hottest Boston Marathon in history, I headed East towards another hot spot: Borneo. Poised for another session of "self discovery" in the 5th Borneo International Marathon.

Arrived in KK on 5th May from Penang. Met up with fellow Seremban runners as I checked in to Likas Square Condotel. This was to be my third BIM. Having participated in 2009 and 2010, I held fairly fond memories of the experiences. Besides, the Seremban crowd had decided on mass registration, I didn't want to be left out.

Perhaps it was intentional, BIM has always been a small scaled local event. It may not be as glamorous as SCKLM or SCMS, yet it was certainly not inferior to them. In fact, among the local marathoners, it is still one of the favourites. The BIM organizer must be doing something right.

We had an early night but to alter a sleeping pattern at will would be asking too much. Most of us afforded only 3-4 hours of snooze before we "woke up" at 2am to ready ourselves for the 3 am gun off. The reason for this unsociable hour is undoubtedly due to previous comments about the heat issue in Sabah. Over there, the sun rises at 6am. And by 9am, it certainly felt more like noon. So, in order to avoid frying the participants, (especially the back packers), starting at 3 am seemed the logical thing to do. Otherwise, the prospect of sunbathing would certainly be a deterrent to the less enthusiastic. But to the seasoned hardcore, a mere shrug was all you could elicit from such suggestion. What's a little sun?....

Teh, TC, Heng, Foo, Lim, Steve, myself and Teng. The Seremban runners.

We made our way to Likas Stadium which was only minutes away by foot. It was only then that I discovered, to my dismay, that my GPS had malfunctioned. Amidst frantic-fidgeting to get it to work and intermittent photo snaps, the announcement came. We were about to start. I scurried to the front and tried to position myself near the start. It was not hard. There were only 345 FM participants.

I had to content with chrono. I was a bit distracted. The price to pay for over reliance on GPS. Well, perhaps it was time to learn to do without it. Still, I had hoped that the mileage markers would help indicate my pace. But it turned out that the markers were scarce as the journey unfolded. I counted only 3 that I could visibly register.

Anyway, at gun off, I ran ahead at what some would term effort-based pace. I didn't know how fast I was going until I saw Moey at about 5km, then I knew I was going a tat too fast. But I wasn't sure if he was taking it easy at the start, aiming perhaps at a negative split. So, I overtook him instead of keeping pace with him. I think that was probably a mistake.

But I felt alright with that pace and by 10km, I was registering 44 minutes on my watch. After a few U-turns, by the time I reached 28km, I was just a little over 2 hours. But that was when I realized that my pace was not sustainable. The classic mistake of going out too fast. But I never learn. In cooler climate, you can perhaps get away with it but in warmer and humid places, it is a "death" wish.

So, I pushed a little harder and gave my muscles more that they had bargained for. By 32km, Moey caught up and sped forward towards an excellent finish. Well executed plan and terrific strategy. I was thinking: That is the way a pro does it. So, I learned something new that morning.

What was I to do but plod on? So I did with a little more quicken pace when I saw the stadium from a distance. I finished in 3:22:06. Not exactly ecstatic about the result, but I was just happy to race alongside Moey. And learn some valuable lesson that I would hopefully remember to apply some day.

I was positioned as the first runner up for Men's Veteran category. But overall, I must be about 7th or 8th place. To get a trophy and monetary prize was certainly a bonus. It sounded great but let's get back down to earth from cloud 9 because it was in fact a small field. Suffice to say, the only important thing at the end of the day is your finish. And on that, I knew I made a poor judgement call.

Ng (4th), Gavin Bong (3rd), Moey (Champion), myself, Alex Tiong (5th, from S'pore)

Well, I am nonetheless grateful for the experience. Strategic planning is just as important (if not MORE) as powering through a race with brute force. Learning to conserve and being patient is a mark of a wiser and seasoned runner. It certainly will make the difference between achieving that better time or crashing out early.

Learn and never stop learning. I think that is my take home message.

Runner's Profile: Lim Choo Hooi

In the Ironman circle, you have Richard Tang and in the Runner's circle, Sarah Ch'ng, but speak of Lim Choo Hooi, some of you may ask: Lim Who?...

He may not be famous outside of Penang (yet), but over here, he is already making HUGE waves amongst the Penang runners. In just a short 2 year span, not only had he carved his name on the trophies of most of the races in the region, he had also aced his maiden marathon in HK recently with a jaw dropping 3:25 finish!

  

Lawyer by profession since 1996, one glance at him then, no one would have thought of him ending up like this today. Admittedly, he is himself just as amazed at the transformation. Let me show you why...

Lim, holding a bottle of brandy...

"Happier days?"

In his own words, "after office hour marketing" was not a choice that he could easily avoid but soon his commitment to his social networking spiralled down to a lifestyle of perpetual drunken state. I am not exaggerating. It was taking a costly and heavy toll on his health too. But it was not until 2010 when the untimely death of a friend (right before his eyes while in a badminton court) jolted some sense into him. He had a rude awakening. And that led him to his physician who diagnosed him with fatty liver, raised liver enzyme, uric acid etc. His health was hanging by a thread. It was time to take drastic measures.

He got in touch with a few friends and started working out in the gym. But soon this evolved into running. And with a group of runners to call his own, he found his niche in running. And that suddenly took off in a major way over a short span of 2 years. Some may argue that he has a gift, (so what if he does?), but to be fair, he trained harder than most. I should know, I train with him.  

Top position in Taiping Half

Now at 42, he is one of the fastest veteran runners around. Already clocking an impressive sub 40 minutes in 10km, yet he remains unhappy about his "lack of weekly mileage" as he trains towards SCKLM in June. He constantly laments that he is inconsistent with the training because of heavy work commitments. But to look at him then and now, if losing almost 25kg from 92kg does not impress you, I don't know what will.... 

Amazing transformation, don't you think?

But given the speed of his progress in a short 2 years, he is THE exceptional one to accomplish such a feat. I personally have not seen anyone achieving this in such a short time. Most successful long distance runners were not built in a day. Most were progressive and took years in the making. Yet, Lim Choo Hooi seemed to have come out of nowhere! And it seems there is no stopping him either. I predict he could easily nail sub 3:15 in SCKLM if he maintains his form... 

[No pressure Choo Hooi. Just that the whole Forward Runner club/Penang is counting on you....:)]

We will be seeing a whole lot more of him in years to come. 

But keep a look out for him in June's SCKLM. 

He will rock KL. I am sure of that.

A Run in Central Park, New York

It was 3 days after Boston Marathon. And the legs were already restless. Runners are generally masochistic lot who crave constant tactile (and nociceptive) stimuli to remind themselves that they are still alive and kicking. So imagine my thrill to receive a call from fellow Malaysian Khoo Yit Kiat who suggested we meet up in Central Park for a run. Great minds think alike....

The afternoon in Manhattan was sunny but cool. Temperature was about 13 degrees Celsius. We grouped up in my hotel and headed towards the Central Park which was about 10 blocks away at 59th West Street. The five of us: Khoo and WS Moey, together with Adeline and daughter Catherine were like school children out on an excursion. Labradors unleashed. We could hardly contain ourselves.

It was an exploratory run. We started from the entrance and made our way along well defined paths. There appeared to be many routes to choose from.We knew nothing of the Park and decided to just go with the flow.

We chatted as the jog took momentum along the asphalt route. Overall, it was more undulating than what I had imagined. But that only made it more interesting. The path was already littered with runners and cyclists. We spotted a few marathoners fresh from Boston doing their recovery runs too. Khoo and Moey snapped countless photos along the way. It was turning into a photo shoot. I was of course nonchalant about the photos but it was understandably a moment that all would love to cherish in the form of snapshots.

Half way through, we stumbled upon a massive lake in the middle of the Park. The view was breathtaking! Enough to make us stop and admire. With the caress of the cool breeze, cradled by the gentle afternoon sun, one couldn't help but pause in silence to effectively soak in such awesome beauty. My thought at that moment was: "Heavenly! If only I could do this everyday! Running would take on so much more meaning!"

I was grateful for that. God's reward comes in small packages like this.

We circled the lake amongst many runners. Taking photos and chatting along the way. Our run had dissolved into no more than a walk/slow jog. But hey, no one was counting laps. Time simply stood still.

We had fun. It was a far cry from the Marathon that we had just endured 3 days earlier. My Central Park experience was invigorating and for the most part of it, it was refreshing to be reminded that running has a sunnier side to it than just clocking a PB or qualifying for Boston. Here, everyone's a qualifier. As long as you can run, you are free to do whatever your heart desires.

We completed a circle around the Park. Vowing to return here whenever we can in future. But for now, that concluded our visit to the famous Central Park. And certainly for me, it was a good closure for a long and arduous week in US.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

116th Boston Marathon 2012...A Personal Review

Boston. April 16, 2012. Patriot's Day.

The weather forecast: HOT with no chance of rain.. Local inhabitants would have welcomed the early arrival of Summer (skipping Spring altogether), but for runners in the 116th Boston Marathon, it was a different sentiment. The promised temperature: 32+ degrees Celsius. And with that kind of heat, no amount of experience or training could prepare you for what was to unfold. This would go down the history as the Hottest Boston Marathon, ever! 

In fact, the organizer urged some runners to consider abandoning the run in view of this freakish climate change. But if you were someone like me who had to fly 22 long hours to get there, quitting at this point would never be an option. But what I had to abandon was all hope of a Personal Best. 

More than a year of planning had gone into this. From the point of qualification since Oct 2010 to the moment of actually receiving a confirmation of participation, and finally taking that flight and touch down in Boston, you could understand the level of frustration and disappointment one would naturally feel. We were utterly at the mercy of the weather. And there was not a thing one could do about it.

Race day morning was cool. Temperature was in the range of 20+ degrees. I was half hoping that the weatherman got it wrong this time. But it was an empty hope, unfortunately.

We made our way to down town Boston to board the buses that would take us to Hopkinton, the Starting point. This is the Boston tradition: to start off in this little town and make our way to the finish line in the city centre. 

The journey took about 45 minutes. When we reached the Athlete's Village, the sun was up and you could feel the temperature rising. The crowd was massive. We had almost 2 hours of waiting before gun off. Therefore, Adeline Tan and I roamed around between the tents, stuffing ourselves with bagels, bananas, Gatorade etc. Food was in abundance. They have done this a thousand times, and they know what the runners need. The wait was less than desirable though. 

I suppose it was natural to compare. Only a common competitor's knee jerk reflex.We were looking at the bibs of the runners as we walked around. You see, when you qualify with your BQ, they will assign a bib number to you based on your time. Therefore, the lesser your number, the more "elite" you are. For example, if you are a sub 2:30 runner, your bib number would probably be 127 like our Malaysian elite runner Woo Chan Yew. Mine was 7842. Tells you a lot, doesn't it? 

Well, by 10am, the sun was already scorching. I could feel my skin grilled as we made our way to the start line. I was beyond worried. While waiting, managed to bump into WS Moey, another fellow Malaysian Boston Qualifier. We took a look around and agreed that "Today is not the day!" No way was it conceivable to attempt a PB in that kind of heat. Moey took out his camera, and was prepared to convert this race to a running-cum-photo-snapping LSD. I was still holding on stubbornly to the hope of doing my best. In Hokkien: Bo-Kum-Guan.

My new game plan: Let's see how the first half goes. I knew from the elevation chart that it was going to be mainly down hill in the first half. So, there is no harm going a little faster rather than being too conservative. Seemed a little reckless but, hey, Reckless's my middle name.

Gun off. And off we all went with a slow walking pace. Took me 5-6 minutes just to get to the starting line. But beyond that, you could see that you are running amongst fast runners as everyone seem to be moving in unison. This is where Boston Marathon is unique compared to other races. By arranging the runners according to their BQ and starting them off at different waves and corrals, it eliminates the problem of congestion at the start and allows the runners to get on with their usual pace early on in the race.

The start was always the part where most get a little carried away. The pace was faster than usual because your adrenaline rush hands you a confidence boost. But soon enough as one moved beyond the first couple of km, the pace began to settle as reality sank in. And when the heat started taking it's toll on some....

I was cruising at 4:15min/km pace most of the time during the first half. Aided by the overall downhill. But at the back of my mind I was a little cautious because of my concern about the heat and it's effect on me. So, I tried to conserve too as much as I possibly could..

Eventually, it was becoming clear that the organizer DID know what they were talking about. Mind you, their consistent message was not targeted at novices in this sport. All participants were qualifiers. Naturally, one would assume they know what they were doing. Experience should account for something, so we thought. But in fact, this is where the danger lurked. The competitive tendency in us, if unchecked, would spell disaster in this kind of heat. And eventually, it did for hundreds of runners.

From the start, amazingly supportive local spectators lined up along the route. They were the highlights of the race. Their presence, in fact, were the reason why this race was so special. There were interesting and humorous remarks i.e. "Quit tent 1 coming up.", "It's HOT, but so are YOU!", "Bikes for rental." etc. etc. Families and local communities did their awesome part by giving out oranges, drinks, Popsicles and sprinkled their water on runners to help us cool down. But the most memorable for most of us had to be the Wellesley girls at the 20th km. They lined  up for almost a full km along the route as they cheered and offered kisses to the runners. I resisted the urge to do so, against my better judgement. On hindsight, I think I should have! It was in the name of good cheer and fun! But I did receive endless high fives from the girls. It was electrifying. It was as though energy was exchanged with each of the high five. I felt invigorated. And that stretch made me forget all my fatigue momentarily.

I finished the first half in 1:32. But 1:30 on my GPS. A very decent pace, so I thought. But the second half of the race was a whole different ball game.The heat was beginning to play tricks on the mind. I was actually actively seeking out sprinklers along the way to cool down. At each water station, I was gulping down lots of Gatorade and pouring cups after cups of water over my body and head. But it was so hot and dry (humidity 25%) that I never actually felt drenched. Blisters began to build up as I ran because of the soaked shoes.

I tried to block out the thoughts about the heat and fatigue. And aimed to maintain the pace as much as I could without slowing down. The route in the second half was a lot more hilly. Of all that was running through my mind, all I could think about was to take one km at a time. And in 2 hours, I had covered 28km. But beyond that, cumulative fatigue and heat had to take it's toll. Inadvertently the pace slowed as I climbed each elevation. And the more challenging part came in the form of the famous Heart Break hill at 33-34km. But it was not the incline. In fact it was not all that steep. BUT, at 34km when you are already depleted, even without the onslaught of the heat, a molehill would seem like the Everest. And it was for me too.

But there is always a silver lining. Beyond that wretched hill, the rest of the course was mainly flat and down hill. However, at 35th km, I felt an ominous twitch coming on in the right thigh and calf. It was at this point that I knew that I would not be attempting any PB on that day. My projected time based on my pace was to finish 40km by 3hours. But after the 35th km, I had to slow down lest the twitch in my legs regress to a full blown cramp. It would be the end of me. So, I gingerly tread on, trying my best to not aggravate the twitch. Eventually, I completed 38km in 3 hours. But for the rest of the course, it was a struggle to keep going. The body was shutting down. And the mind was in a semi-conscious state. I knew I was moving ahead. But I wasn't sure what was driving it. The only thing that I remembered was the roaring crowd in the last few km. It kept the spirit alive and certainly kept me going. The last 500m stretch seemed the longest. I had the Finish arch in sight but somehow it was taking forever to reach there. Most were picking up pace as we ran towards the end. I mustered up something, but fell short of a sprint because of the twitches....

Eventually, I had to be contented with 3:21:33 on that day.

Overall, for me, the 116th Boston Marathon was an amazing experience. I had to race against myself and the element. And from it, I had gain a renew respect for heat. I couldn't say it was an enjoyable experience though. But the spectators and support made it all worth while.

I would hesitate to mention this. But since some friends did ask, I would say that without the heat factor, I could have done better. Even coming close to or God willing, better my PB. But one thing I have learned from this is never to complain. Rather, take it as a valuable lesson and move on. Such "failure" only gives me the impetus to improve myself all the more in the coming races.

It's not the end of the world.

Robert the conqueror. The aftermath.

It was presumptive of him to think that just because he has done the usual tempo, interval and LSD that crossing that 42.195km finish line would be a relatively effortless feat. But then again, humility was never one of his personable traits. Neither was insight. His friends had tried telling him, but tactful as they were, he brashly brushed them off with a warning to never overstep the boundary.

But as you would expect, he limped most of the way back starting from 25th km. He would hesitate to say that it was perhaps the toughest last 17km run of his life. Yet, pride had prevailed and he still adamantly maintained that he was not "in form" because of something he ate that morning. And besides, the weather was too humid and he suffered leg cramps from 18km onwards.

An experience like this would put most people off. Permanently in some cases. But Robert would not be in that list. He is incapable of giving up. One would misconstrue that it was his tremendous will power and admirable drive to succeed. However, the truth would be far from it. He is just a regular bloke who refuses to quit because he is incapable of acknowledging that he has messed up. He cannot fail. He still thought he could win this. But fail? Never in his wildest imagination!

He stumbled to make sense of his "failure" to run the marathon which he had so proudly proclaimed that he would "conquer". He searched his patchy memory of the race which largely consisted of him panting, walking, stopping and walking. He could see that perhaps the only consistency of his great exploit was the MP3 playing in the background. The battery had outlasted him. At least he was glad that he had remembered to charge the thing the night before.

He took 8 packs of power gel. He vomited two of them along the way. To the disgust of some runners who had not managed to swerve in time to avoid the projectile vomitus that splatted across the road. He looked perturbed to find the volunteer Medic team asking him if he wanted to get on the bus. They must have mistaken him for a newbie. "I have done this before, you know, this is not my first." He was quite right. This was his second. He didn't finish his first beyond the half way mark.

Robert was now resting in the comfort of his home. Legs held up on the cushion. Both oedematous. At least they felt numb. He couldn't figure what is the fuss all about. He was able to walk, but with a little help from the crutches. He was already plotting his next move. Circling the calender, his red marker was poised to plot the next course of his great exploits in the not so far off future. He would get back to his training once he does not require the walking aid. And when the oedema subsided. But run he would, he thought to himself, as soon as possible too, lest the "stamina" that he had acquired begin to dwindle.

Robert has called in sick. He doesn't want his friends to see him in this state. And certainly, the well meaning "I told you so!" would not be something he would like to entertain in the mean time while he recuperates. His boss was not so empathetic. "When do you think you can come up with a better excuse? I will see that MC on my desk first thing tomorrow!" He would have to worry about the MC later. Now, he needs to call up his 60 year old mum to ask her to come around to take care of his meals for the next couple of days.

In Robert's world, success and failure is relative and very subjective. He does not think that failure can be taken literally. Because behind every failure is a silverlining. Success looms in all these not so pleasant experiences. Just waiting to burst forth.

Perhaps he has a point. Perhaps we are all nuts too.

remembering the good ole days....

As I was dusting some old photos, couldn't help but paused over this one. I think it was taken in 1987. It was a group photo of the school athletics team. As you can see, we were quite the champion. 

But it was not the trophies that drew my attention. It was the sight of two endearing souls seated in the middle. These were the ones who left a deep and lasting impact in my life. One was the late Mrs Wee, our Headmistress. And next to her was Mr. Siva, the head coach in athletics.

Mrs. Wee succumbed to cancer in the ensuing years. She was a tough lady. A well known fact even beyond the school boundaries. Nothing got pass her and she witheld no punches when it concerned the school's progress and the student's welfare. Very disciplined individual. A tough-as-steel mind. She was nicknamed the Iron Lady. And she expected no less of the teachers and students in CHWS. Under her management, CHWS enjoyed her glory days way back in 1980s-1990s. My admiration for her was only matched by my fear of her. But now I just miss her dearly.

Mr.Siva. A solid man of principle and character. Unlike any coach that I have ever come across. He commanded respect even without having to raise his voice. With his coaching and guidance, CHWS became the All Round Champion in our district for a few consecutive years.

The thought of him brought back memories of the training days back in the school field. I remember doing the 300m repeats under the hot 4pm sun. He would be watching and with a stopwatch in his hand, he would call out the time as we make the loop around. Somehow, the morale was always high because we were a motivated bunch under his wings. He never had to shout at us. We would often joke but there was no less reverence for him.

He often pleaded with us about our techniques and tactics. Explaining and reasoning passionately with us until we were sold and convinced of his theories. Yet he also allowed us to make our own mistakes. I don't remember him reprimanding us even when we faltered. I guess he understood that the disappointment alone was demoralizing enough. But he was not particularly lavish on the praises either. Somehow, just him being there was enough to speak of  his approval. We loved him.

When you were 16, all you could see was what was in front of you. I gave little thoughts as to what athletics would do for me. And there was no doubt that it was a passing thing. Not something to be taken too seriously, at least not in the professional sense. When it was over, I would move on....

And moved on we did as we graduated. Everyone went their separate ways. Yet, until today, I carry a part of these two individuals in me. What they instilled in me a long time ago. When words finally came together, I realize that I am who I am because of them. And I am grateful for that because they took the trouble and gave an important part of themselves: their heart. That became a part of who I am today. Their legacy lives on in me....long after they have left. And in Mrs. Wee's case, departed.  

I would do it all over again if my body allows me to compete. And on any given day, I would have Mr. Siva by my side as my beloved coach. I am sure that would be the same sentiment for all the athletes in CHWS....

Thank you, Mrs.Wee. And Thank YOU, Mr.Siva.