Perspective

Dates. Timeline. Schedules. Numbers. Formulas. Checklists. Lists. I love them all and there are not many moments in my life when I don’t have a schedule or a list of some sort. There is something comforting in dates, schedules and numbers because they are real, tangible and provide sense of purpose and orderliness in life. Through them, my life could be organised into neat little compartments. With plans and lists, life is simplified or at least I feel I am somewhat in control. Even better, achievements and success could be compartmentalised, categorised, filed away and quantified or at least that was the idea. However, life doesn’t often work out like that. Plans changed or ditched or worse, in trying to be in control, all that you try to control and master, becomes an all consuming obsession or a burden. Then the question becomes ‘Who or what is controlling whom?’


I spent a good part of my early adult life - work and personal wise, organising people and things. There was always a schedule and/or a deadline. So my life then was about how much could I do and accomplish, how fast could I do something and how many deadlines could I meet. Deadlines were the be all and end all. It was exciting. It was pure adrenaline most of the time. Personal and home life did suffer eventually because something had to give. Ultimately, mentally and physically, it was not possible for me to sustain that level of intensity. Things had to change. Even then I had not realised that it have become less of me having mastery over time and things but instead, I became a slave of time, plans and schedules.

I did not and could not see that there were more important things than maintaining orderliness and control. More important things than being effective, efficient and driven. That the more important and most crucial thing is to live and embrace all the quirks, imperfections and flaws. To accept that, there are things I cannot change or control - one of life’s truths that took many hard lessons before I came to realise that to actually ‘let go’ is to unshackle myself from unnecessary angst and stress.
So now I learn to ask ‘What and why am I doing what I am doing?’ ‘Will my world come crashing down if I cannot do it all?’ ‘Is something a matter of life or death that it had to be done?’ ‘What is the worse thing that could possible happened?’ Ultimately, ‘will I be able to live with the consequences or if I had limited time to live, would I still be as concern?’

These questions did not and still do not come easy for me but sometimes when I really try, I catch myself reverting to old habits and learn to stop and let a moment of clarity sink in. In that momentary pause, I realised that it is not a matter of life and death and that it is perfectly permissible to take a break, to rest, to seek refuge from responsibilities, demands that life asks of us or demands that we ask of ourselves. Life can be a numbers game - how much, how far, how fast, how good, how successful and the lists goes on, but only if we let it become so.
Stop, once in awhile and take stock. You may be surprised at how that can really change your perspective on things and you might just have a ‘eureka moment’ and think, why didn’t I think of it like this before? 

Send in The Clowns, Please?

Feeling a little frustrated with my physical fitness and mental fortitude over the last few weeks, I was definitely not in the good frame of mind to deal with the daily annoyances of life. On television, in conversations and discussions with people, there seemed to be little joy. More often then not, it was about something not working, not doing, should not, could not and all sorts of complaints over how things should be. The image that stuck with me is that of children stamping their foot and throwing a tantrum and hoping someone, somewhere would take notice and make things better. Unfortunately, such is life, you make it what you want it to be. Mummy, daddy, people in authorities, politicians and the government are not going to live your life for you. Get over it.

There just seems to be this refusal to see that as much as life is not perfect, and it will never be perfect, that we should be thankful and to live our lives with graciousness and compassion. There are people who live in poverty, people who live with extreme disabilities and some people in terrible oppression who just ‘get on with it‘. There was a programme on TV recently where a London bus driver went to experience life in the Manila slumps. There he met families, scrounging for food among left-over from restaurants. These people were so poor, they had to scrounge among this heap of what would be food waste to us, re-cooked them for a meal. Makes you put certain things into perspective, when we have people protesting over pensions or no pay rise or anti-establishment by jumping into rivers in a boat race, ‘occupy certain public areas’ whilst queuing for latte at Starbucks.

Then  more recently I was incensed by images of what I seen happened where peaceful demonstrators, asking for a positive change for the country being physical threatened and beaten. I have so much respect and admiration for these people who risked their personal freedom and independence to stand up for what they believe it - some form of democracy that people in more developed countries take for granted. And on the flip-side, we have people living in more just democracy complained about how awful the government is. How inefficient, how useless etc.. the list goes on. The irony is, the very fact that people are allowed to stand up and criticise the government and not risk arrest, is quite lost on most.

At a more personal level, I am by no means a happy clappy chappy but I do believe that it is important to remind ourselves that there are things in every day life that we should embrace positively, to celebrate and to show encouragement. We are too quick to criticise. Too quick to presume, assume and most of all, project our own insecurities onto others. We consciously or subconsciously feel as if we are in ‘competition’ to better another. It is wonderful to want to better ourselves, to improve and if we spend more time on improving ourselves, we will spend less time feeling envious and destructive over the achievements of others. There’s no need to over - emphasized to others ‘I did this’.. ‘I did that’… ‘She/He should have done this or that’.. In other words, stop pointing fingers and talking about others.  If what we have to say, isn’t going to help ourselves and others positively, perhaps silence is the better option.

It may be corny. It may be un-cool to celebrate life.  It may all sound a bit too ‘rah rah’ or too much like a rally call, we all cringe at but, the alternative of just focusing on the bad bits, whinging, complaining etc…isn’t going to make you or anyone else feel better.

Question is do you want to just wallow and hope for perfection that will never come and thus, a self-fulfilling prophecy that life is SO unjust or do you say, come then.. Let’s bring in the clowns, please… let’s just enjoy what we have?

Family, Home & Country

It is almost a year to the day, when I made a difficult journey home. It was unplanned for and it was just 2 weeks before mum was due to visit me. Instead, I was travelling the other way. Mum had been admitted to an intensive care unit, unable to breathe on her own. It was discovered, she had a brain tumour and whether she would recover from it was indeterminate. It was very difficult for family who were there with her then, to see her hooked up to machines. Mum unable to speak, indicated she wanted to go home and we knew that by fulfilling mum’s wish to be released from intensive care unit at the hospital, to return home, she would never make it. Hence, my long flight back. I couldn’t quite process how I was feeling but I knew if I didn’t make it back to say goodbye, I would never have forgiven myself.

The week running up to my flight, knowing that mum was poorly, was a difficult time. In a lot of ways, I had been estranged from her and my family for many years. So there were many painful memories that came back to me. As well as a sense of guilt for I had not been there for them for the last 9 years. That week also brought back memories of the time when we lost dad. I was much younger then and even then, I was not the responsible young adult that I should I have. I was too busy and engrossed with whatever it was that was going on in my life. The grief I felt for the loss of dad was deeper, perhaps it was because I was younger and I was closer to him than I had been with mum. Dad and I had many father - daughter moments. I remember an old joke we had in the family when we looked at a old B & W photograph of me as a baby in dad’s arms, dressed like a boy… I was unfortunately, not quite a son he would have liked! In comparison, mum and I have had many moments of conflicts, contention and basically a struggle of domination over my life which has caused me to walk out and was disowned. A very James Dean moment, I think.. But I did think then in my petulance I was a rebel with a cause!

So now, a year on from taking mum’s ashes out to sea and as I was reminded recently, it will be 20 years this November, since Dad passed on, I cannot help but think whatever happened to all that time that has passed. My memories of Dad seems a little dimmer as years go by and I wonder what he would have thought of me now. Would he have been angry, hurt and disappointed with some of my decisions in life? Would he have been as accepting and comforting as he once said ‘ Whatever happens, I will always be there’. My memories of mum are often tainted with some tinge of frustration and anger but I know that over the years, since I have moved away, mum had become a much better person. She did mellow. She did finally learnt that there were some boundaries she had to respect and not cross. I can only attribute this to the patience, persistence and strength that Sis had shown over the years.

Whatever it was that was right or wrong, mum did have a good 10 years after Dad passed on. She travelled. She had no grand children to worry about. She wasn’t always in the best of health, but she had lived a life quite full compared to many of her peers. I came across some old photographs taken of mum when she last visited, her usual frown when she has a her picture taken, Caerphilly Castle was in the background. Sis and I always told her ‘Mum, please smile.. Stop frowning for the camera!’. I would like to remember mum as someone who, despite being from a very poor family and was sent to work at a very young age and perhaps was bullied as young servant girl, she brought us up to be independent, forward thinking and as sis and I would always say ‘we are head strong because of mum and it was good training, else we would have crumbled!’

So as my little family gets smaller, there’s just the two of us sisters left, it made me realised how the bond between us is something to truly treasure and cherish. No one else in the world, grew up with me and share some of that history with me. No one else could quite love me with all my flaws, cracks and what have you as unconditionally and yet be my strength when I needed them to be. Over the last 2 years, it seems to me, we share a lot more in common or have certain similar quirks, it’s quite endearing and yet quite scary. When all fails, we just do the Freudian thing ‘Blame mum and dad. We are flawed, tarnished and traumatised by them both’.

This brings me to the question as to where is home then? I would say, home now is here in Wales and I suppose for many years, it has been so but I didn’t want to commit to it. I didn’t want to alienate myself from the place where I was born and brought up. It felt like a betrayal. An act of disloyalty to say, Wales is my home and not Malaysia. However, my rocky start in Wales and having come through all that, Wales helped me challenged myself and my old ways of thinking and living. By being different as I am and being thrust into a different way of life, experiences, relationships and people - I became even more aware of what it means to adapt, to respect and acknowledge even the most subtle differences between myself and everyone else. Not to pre-judge, assume or make unjust comparison. I can only hope, others offer me the same respect and acknowledgement. It is not often easy and continues to be a work-in-progress!

Does this then make me any less of being a Malaysian? The answer to that is a definitive no. I will always be proud to say I am Malaysian and even if I choose to any some point in time to formally relinquish my citizenship, I will still consider myself Malaysian. Despite the political and social challenges I have read about, heard about in Malaysia, I believe Malaysia as I know it, are the sums of the culture, attitude and spirit of its peoples. Politicians do not make a nation, people do. In that macro view, I do feel angry and sad at what Malaysia as a country has become. However, it is very heart warming and inspiring to see people from a multitude of ethnicity stand together in moments of hardship and speak for what they believe is right, at the risk of being arrested. The respect of differences was never easy and there will always differences and that is what makes being Malaysian so unique.

So what does it mean to me, being Malaysian? First thing that comes to every Malaysian’s mind - love of FOOD of course! Well besides, eating being a favourite pastime and besides, the variety of culinary delights like no other in the world, Malaysians are a melting pot of so many things. We speak so many different languages. Most Malaysians speak at least two, if not three languages and god knows how many other dialects, regional or otherwise. We also have our very own version of the Queen’s English, called Manglish and sometimes we are quite proud of it because no one else can understand us! We are totally politically incorrect, most of the time - no shame, not malicious in any way as we play-up, joke and exchange banter on typical ethic stereotypes. Malaysians have a way of easy tolerance with each other and understands that it’s ok not to agree with certain cultural practices but, there is no need to criticise or offer opinions on something alien to one’s upbringing. These are just some of the quirkiness of being Malaysian that will always be part of who I am and I cling on to them unashamedly because it makes me unique to the rest of the world.

I suppose over the years, I have straddled two lives - past and present, two countries and estranged from my real home, which is my family. Time to let go of things I can no longer hold on to and just be happy to have memories which are unique to me, of a different time, a different place. The healing of what had gone on for years has begun and now it is for me and all that is left of my family to embrace the years to come, knowing that each of this moment forward is important.

So Pa and Mummy, you can both rest well now, your daughters are well. We are good. Missing you both - well not all the bad bits, but we will always miss you both in our own way.

Being Good Enough? Being Best I Can Be?

We all make lists. We have lists of things we have done, things we want to do and things we wish to do. We have lists for various aspects of our lives - our career, business, work, home, leisure and the everyday mundane living. Sometimes, it can be quite a revelation when we look back on some of our lists and discover how far we have come or how we have perhaps wavered from what we have set out to do. Most importantly, we will realise that what had been of significance at particular moment in our lives, may be of little importance or may even be of total irrelevance to us as we are now. With utmost certainty, time has moved us along. With utmost certainty we would have changed somewhat. However, as much as we have changed, there are certain burdens or scars of time that we carry with us. Doubts, insecurities and fears that may fuel our ambitions, aspirations and our endless self query of ‘ Am I good enough?’. In the same way, we could be carrying such burdens that over time, chip away at us and we become more accustomed to seeing our own limitations. We forget to ask ‘ can I be the best I can be?’

For me, I am a keeper of many lists. However, for many years my lists were all to do with my career, my work, achievements, recognition and acknowledgement in that very narrow aspect of my life. Every recognition fueled my obsession to work harder, try harder and strive harder. The instant positive affirmations that meant ‘I was good enough’ were the definition of who I am. It was such a significant part of my life, nothing else mattered. I was ‘successful’ because I had a career I loved. I had respect because I delivered results. I was rewarded because I delivered. I had authority. I had status. I was just turning 30. Everything was looking up. Then, life began to feel empty. It was as if I had packed too much into a short career span. I was exhausted. I was running on empty. I had to simply stop.

So stop, I did. From one extreme to another. I gave up all that and decamped to 6,000 miles away. Then I spent the next 8 years battling myself. Like an addiction, I could not kick the habit of wanting more. Having to start all over, where everything that I had done and achieved, accounted for nothing was a very painful personal journey. I was in a foreign land, nobody cared what I had to offer. Nobody respected what I had to offer. In gist, from a ‘somebody’ to a ‘nobody’ or at least that was how I felt. So I trudged along, nagging thoughts of ‘am I not good enough?’ followed me. Career and personal challenges compounded my feelings of despair and doubts. I was in effect, running around in circles. I could not see beyond my feelings and my own perceived ‘failings’. The one dimensional me didn’t cope very well. I just blamed the whole world for being unfair but really, deep down inside, I was convinced ‘I wasn’t good enough’.

Then like a blessing in disguise, personal circumstances dictated that I had to move home. That move was emotionally difficult and financially challenging. It was at this juncture, that I realised the enormity of my decision made 8 years ago to leave all of my life behind. It made me realised that in spite of all the professional and personal challenges in the last 8 years, I have weathered them, more or less on my own. It made me realised also the relationships that are important to me and those that are not. It was not a case anymore of ‘am I good enough’.. it was how can I be better.

That journey to being better began about 18 months ago. It began with a pair of Asics trainers on my feet. It began with tentative attempts to run. I figured since I couldn’t ride a bike or swim and is totally uncoordinated in any sports, I could at least give running a try. So try I did. It was not pleasant at all. Being a chain smoker previously didn’t help. Being a sedentary couch potatoes didn’t help. Then a friend recommended I join a local run in the park. I looked at him incredulously and thought seriously.. I don’t think it is the thing for me. The thought of running with others and coming last was quite horrifying. But, I decided I will give it a go. Worst thing that can happen is I do come last and I would be so embarrassed, I didn’t have to go back.

But 18 months on - 1820 kilometres covered so far, 3 road races, 2 off road races, more than 40 park runs later complete with ankle sprains, stress fracture and other aches and pains, I am still running. I have never come last yet in any of the races or park runs so I guess I am doing ok. However, the question of ‘am I good enough?’ is of less significance now. It is more of ‘how much better can I be?’. Running is not a panacea for all one’s problems but it changes you. Somehow, it is like your mind has being re-wired. You see daily irritations, frustrations as little necessities of life as you began to put things in your life into perspectives. You see limitations as something to work at and not give it to. You see temporary set backs as a need to adapt or change the way you approach things. You liberate yourself from having identify or define yourself by what you do. You truly understand, realised what it means that, when there’s a will to do something, a true motivation and desire to do, you will find ways to do it. Most importantly to me, it helped me understand that ‘being good enough’ means little because it means sufficient, sufficient to some pre set standards - self imagined, self imposed or standards expected of you from others. Being the best that you can be, means you commit to trying your best given what you have at any given time.

Hence, the pursuit of your own personal best is therefore not static because life is not static. So all of us, in our own ways are work in progress. The key is enjoy and embrace that process. Progress is a certainty, if you want it. So make a list of things what you want to do and do it, what’s stopping you?

Beating The Tribal Drum

It was a fantastic weekend of sports here in Wales. Wales secured Triple Crown against England at Twickenham, home of English Rugby. Nathan Cleverly defended his boxing title and Cardiff City Football Club, fought courageously and admirably, dignity in defeat against Liverpool in the Carling Cup Final. The romance and passion of being part of something special, brought many in Wales or those associated with Wales together.

Incredibly, even those who don’t normally like rugby or football got into the frenzy. Perhaps, deep within us, we all still have this need to band together. To be part of a strong, enviable tribe, lest we become forgotten. Lest we become insignificant, alienated, shunned or disapproved. A pariah from our own kind.

So, although in a wider context, the passion and enthusiasm of many, helps perpetuate a sense of well-being, belonging and lifts the hopes of a community and/or a nation. The beating of this almost tribal like drum, can also be to the detriment of those who are misunderstood or not accepted . In a way, this brings back memories of awkward and painful memories of schooldays when you are either part of the ‘in’ group or just a nobody. Others talked about you, laughed at you or made you feel a little inadequate for all sorts of reasons. With holding approval was a powerful weapon. Wielded mercilessly.

However, in younger children and young adults, such tribal machinations are more direct. If you are not liked or accepted, no one would share toys with you or would have played with you. As a young adult, you would just not be someone the more savvy ones wanted to hang out with. It would have been painful and without a doubt cruel and perhaps may become a source of personal insecurities that we carry on throughout our adult lives. Not quite knowing or understanding why.

In the adult world, such these machinations have a more sophisticated word. We simply call it ‘politics’. Sometimes, we call it ‘bullying’. All depends on the context of the relationships, the power base and the roles at play. It is as if, there is almost basal nature, where individuals just form little herds. This is us, that is them or the other. People herd together to show support for a cause. The question is, do each and everyone exercise independent thought before subscribing to a common cause ? Or do each just herd because it’s strength in numbers? People also herd together out of ‘joint anger’ or shared misery - self inflicted, swayed by the persuasion of the more influential members regardless of logic or reason or maybe, just enjoys peddling out misery?

Then as the tribe or herd gets stronger, the will of the group just takes on a life of its own and unfortunate for those for whom the tribe herds together to impose their wishes, their demands and expectations. Regardless of any logic or reason that is available to dispel such onslaughts, the battle will be a losing one. The voices of many drowns out the voice of reason of one or the few. No one likes to be labelled a bully, but this can not be anything else when one or a few is up against the voice, the actions or inaction of the many.

It is in the stories of individuals, minorities and the few who have had the courage to stand apart and be true to who they are despite being alienated and unaccepted by others, we find some hope and inspiration for the human spirit.

Perhaps, there’s yet the need to take up refuge from the world and that maybe it is possible to dance to one’s own tribal beat.

The Trails of The Miles - A Hobbit's Tale?

Once upon a time a little hobbit left her little safe haven and ventured forth. She embarked on the quest of ‘The Trails of the Miles’ for which only those who have travelled it, was said to possess a special knowledge. A knowledge, much greater in value than silver or gold. However, it is a quest for which there is no return. A quest of courage, endurance, a test of conviction, a test of mental and physical strength. And so this little hobbit began with much doubts and trepidation. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, over many landscapes and yet she continues.

In the time that has passed, she sometimes forgets to rest, impatient to get as far along the quest as she can. Weary and dispirited, she felt so alone. Often times, her body would just give up on her and she could only hobbled on. It is like providence that at such dark moments, she would chance upon a fellow traveller or wise creatures of the forest, who would offer her kindness, nourishment and hope.

Whenever, she was a little lost , she hears a little voice of angel from far away, telling her she’s going the right way. The angel would whisper, go strong and listen to your own footsteps, it will be your guide. Then before long, the little hobbit met the ‘Sage of The Crossroads’, of which she has heard would offer words of wisdom that would be of great help in her quest. He always stood at the crossroads, guiding those who past his way. Sometimes unsmiling, but often kind. Legend has it, he has travelled ‘The Trails of the Miles’ many times and knows of all the dangers. His word is not to be taken lightly.

So the little hobbit journeyed on and next she met Bach o’r Mor, the one from the sea. Bach o’r Mor used to travel the seas until he too, embarked on the same quest. Bach o’r Mor would run along the hobbit offering assurance over parts of the journey where the forest gets a little scary. Together with Bach o’r Mor, little hobbit was also reassured with the company of The Shepherd. The Shepherd always made sure no one gets lost in the forest.

There are also two kindly creatures who appear along her journey from time to time. Zapo ‘The Keeper of The Times’. Zapo will always be there to help the hobbit keep track of how far she’s travelled and how well she’s doing. Together with Zapo, there’s Griff The Rock. Griff would always be there to remove the riff-raff who are a hindrance to those who chose to embark on the quest. He is the guardian of the peace of the quest.

For those who feel, a need to know what to forage in the forest for sustenance in this long quest, it is believed, you just need to leave a message on a tree tied with a red ribbon and Duorp y Fwta will find you and help you along the way. A slight little figure, unassuming with flaming red hair, Duorp y Fwta will show you the nature’s way to nourish your body.

Though, the journey so far has been challenging at times, the little hobbit shoulders on. She has met other travellers along the way. Some of whom, she has shared and exchanged some stories, some of whom, she’s not quite managed to catch up to learn from them as yet but at least now, she feels she isn’t quite so alone.

She knows that as at the start and as at the end, the Prince of the Elfins, Philyras will be there to greet all who complete the quest. Philyras is rumoured to wait patiently through all seasons for all who are on this quest. In his quiet, cool gaze, he waits and he watches. It will some time yet, before little hobbit finds her way to the end to see Philyras waiting there.

So as winter draws near, the little hobbit pulls her coat around her and journeys on. The ground is soft underfoot, the forest seems darker and often more foreboding but the quest is far from over yet. Not far from her mind are all those she has met along the way, who kept her spirits up, offered support and help whenever doubts reared its ugly head. A thought to hold on to, when there’s so much more different terrain to cover.

The hobbit thinks to herself, there were others who came before her, and there will be others to come in her footstep on this ‘Trails of the Miles’. So as she sets out to brave that little hill ahead, the little hobbit offers up silent thanks to all those who watched over her so far and may they guide others to come.

And so the story continues….

Drover's Run

My first year foray into this strange sport of running has been ups and downs, undulating like the Welsh countryside. Like the Welsh countryside, the experience seduces with the promise of so much more amazing vistas to explore and yet the journey to the ‘promised land’ so to speak, is fraught with much gasping, cursing, sprains and pains. Perversely and tentatively I decided after being in and out of injury that I would enjoy the whole experience anyway and be gracious that I live in a place which offers many great opportunities to run and in some ways, to escape the worries and angst of every day life. It’s just me - the open road, the trails and the great outdoors. It is with such inspiring thoughts that I decided to sign up for Drover’s Run, an approximately 6 mile multi-terrain race and then the panic began!

Drover’s Run was supposedly to have been held in summer of this year which I thought, great as it will be nice and warm and the countryside will be really nice to run around it. Then, it had to be postponed because of lack of participant and the new date was set for 27 November and I thought then, maybe it was a good thing as it gave me more time to get myself used to running on different terrains. Though I was not too sold on the idea of running around in mud, rain and worse, wind.

Like a curse, on a summery day at a parkrun having just achieved a PB, my left foot finally gave up. It hurt like hell and I thought it as a little sprain or tendonitis or one of those niggles. The pain became quite unbearable and the foot getting more and more swollen. A visit to A & E the next day, confirmed it as a stress fracture. There was nothing I could do but rest, feeling sorry for myself and absolutely angry at myself. Anyhow, I thought, no problem I have months to recover before Drover’s, all will be well.

My optimism carried me through the many weeks of recovery. After 8 weeks of not running and feeling like a tub of lard, I got back into running. Slowly at first after having failed at first attempt 6 weeks into my fracture because the pain returned. All was going great, 8 weeks back into running (16 weeks from fracture) and the familiar throbbing returned. I was deflated because Drover’s was just a 3 weeks away. Nevertheless, optimism prevailed. Panic over. Well at least I thought so.

Finally, the day arrived. Set my alarm for an early rise. Looked at the window and it was lashing down with rain. It was howling wind outside and suddenly I felt quite apprehensive. Recovering fractured foot. Haven’t been running well for a few months. Mud. Rain and the dreaded HILLS. It was just not bear thinking about.

So quick breakfast and went through the calming routine of getting dressed and ready. I thought, maybe the brisk walk to the club to catch a lift would help calm my nerves. So blasting music in my headphones, singing to myself in my head, got myself to the club and then ride arrived, and off we went. Nerves were a bit on edge but under control so far.

Then we arrived at Brynna Community Hall and the wind farm on the distant hills greeted us. They looked as though they were mocking me. They were majestic and set so, very, very high up. Try as I might not to stare at them, I did . I normally do not warm up and do stretches before a run or race but that morning, I needed to , just for something to do to distract myself from thinking about the climb up them hills.

And so there we all were, at 9:30am at the start and we went off fairly quickly , as it was a little downhill run down a country lane. Perhaps at about 100 metres or so from the start, the gentle incline started. I was quite pleased because I thought, it was not too bad, Penarth Hill is a lot steeper and I could run up that. The inclined continued gently, legs and cardio still feeling not too bad. The inclines went on and on and on and then it was no longer an incline but a proper hill. I braved on for a bit, legs got a bit wobbly. Cardio was still ok. Legs got wobblier and hill got steeper. I could see others ahead of me stopped to walk and others behind me did the same. I thought, decision time - I could run out of steam trying to be what I am not and attempt to run up what seemed like an endless steep climb or swallow my pride and walk. So walked I did. Not proud of it. Hung my head down in shame and walked.

I don’t even know how long the climb was but it was a long walk. As I approached the official photographer half way up, I shook my head and he said ‘Come on.. Just a little burst’ and so like a pretender that I was, I did a short sprint and was captured on film strangely smiling and appeared to be running! That of course didn’t last long and slowly but surely I made it to the top of the hill, where the tarmac path stops and we are directed to off-road. Earlier on some lady did run past me up the hill and looked back to ask if I was alright. I just smiled and waved her on.

The off road route was just boggy, with grass, mud and puddles as we made our way up a gentle slope, heading towards the wind farm. This was the part of the race, I started to relax into and enjoyed because I could run most of it and even had time to look up around me and saw these majestic wind farms up ahead. It was quite a sight to behold. Green hills all round, and then these giant structures in front of you, it was quite mesmerising running towards them.

Then the route starts a slow gentle descend and I absolutely loved this part. Running down the hill, I could feel the sun on my back and in my face with a gentle breeze accompanying my descend. Picture perfect postcard views all around me and as I was running with music in my ears, I was almost humming a tune in my head!

All through the route, the stewards were fantastic - a few familiar faces from the park run were there ( the guys were from Brackla Harriers). It was at about 5km mark I think, at one of the kissing gates, the steward there said to me, all the hard bit over now. I thought, thank goodness! The path then changed from muddy slopes to mud and gravel for the next 3 km. It was very tempting to pick up speed as it was now fairly flat, just uneven in parts and little undulations but I thought better of it. I didn’t fancy slipping, sliding in mud or worse sprain my ankles in the process. So I slowly jogged and picked my way through. It was at this point that I looked behind me and in front of me. I looked behind me to check if I was last and I looked in front of me to see how many people I could possibly catch up with and perhaps, beat to the finish line. There was one behind and I think there were 4 ahead of me, including the lady who ran past me as I was walking up the hill.

And then like an angel, at the last kissing gate, a familiar Brackla Harrier face smiled and said it was now just 1.5 miles to the end and it was downhill all the way. I thought, I either take smaller steps to give myself some brakes going downhill or I let gravity do the work for me. Tentative at first but once I started, it was an exhilarating gravity assisted sprint downhill for the last 1.5 miles. It was quite fantastic! I think I shocked the lady who ran past me earlier when I sprinted past her.

It felt really great to finish at last. It was in no way a speedy race for me but it was not disappointing one either at 70 minutes. Total respect to all the winners. The guy who won it did it in 37 mins! Some amazing running that must have been. Free hot soup and bun devoured and it was time to get home after the prize giving. I came away with a sense of accomplishment and a little Welsh slate coaster. I have not done many races but I can truly say, I enjoyed this one very much. It was a small race with just over a 100 + participants in an amazing setting. Though it was quite a tough route, at least for me anyway, it is definitely a race I would return to and turn Drover’s Run into a personal sequel called ‘Drover’s Return’.

Drover’s Run is an approx 6 miles MT which was held on 27 Nov 2011- start from Brynna Commmunity Centre,near Llaharan. The race was organised in aid of The Chloe Bigmore Trust. More info here http://www.chloebigmore.co.uk/

You think, Therefore you are - Never mind what you say!

Decartes is probably be turning in his grave as I plagiarised and borrow his famous quote ‘I think, therefore I am’. The original Descartes concept had more to do with the abstract concept of existence and what is real, a discourse into what defines who we are, the relationship between our thoughts and physical world. Well, at least that was how I understood what Descartes was trying to explain! Here, I explore why time and time again , people surprised and shocked with me with things they say which often contradict the image they project or want others to see and even more shockingly, how what they say unravels the nature of my relationships with them. It creates a sense of doubt over the sincerity of people I know. If so and so, whom I have known for a few years can judge and utter derogatory or negative comments about others what then could they have said about me or what then they must also think of me? It feels almost like a betrayal, like I have been lied to.

I understand and accept that all of us have a private self and a public self. We have aspects of ourselves which we may be protective over or have no wish to share with others outside of our closest family and friends. We may also be quite reserved and shy, and we enjoy keeping our private thoughts to ourselves. However, regardless if one is reserved, introverted or extroverted, we all have thoughts, opinions and personal moral codes or ethics that define who we are. These inner workings of our beings, guide us in what we say, how we live our lives and how we manage, treat and sustain our relationships with people around us. Over time, these inner workings may be changed, shaped and nurtured by changing personal experiences but to deny them, to suppress them or to mask them with what is expected from us by society, just means we are not being our authentic self. We become, a living lie - not quite happy, not quite sure where we are, who we are in the world. We may even succumb to the thoughts and opinions of others, pretend or even led ourselves to believe that these thoughts and opinions are ours just so we are seen as ‘acceptable’. Then ever so often, little cracks may appear when we let it slip. A careless whisper. A callous remark we couldn’t quite hold back. A utter of deep disgust that we have kept so well hidden which is so out of character from what we have wanted others to see.

Why do we need to hide part of who we are? Are we so ashamed of our own thoughts and opinions because we know that we would have been quite harsh in our judgements of others who may have these same disagreeable flaws? Are we so embarrassed by a part of our authentic self that may be deemed ‘unacceptable’ by the morality of society that we are prepared to live with pretence? I have a lot of admiration and respect for those who do not practice such self -censorship. People who are true to who they are regardless what others may think of them. It is because of such people who have immense courage to be themselves, to express their thoughts and opinions that we have great shifts and changes in society. These are the people who shaped society’s views and attitudes towards gender issues, sexuality, respect for individuality and opened up our minds to challenge what is acceptable and to truly appreciate what it is to feel and show respect for each other as human beings.

However, being true to ourselves, does not mean that we say and do things without regard for the sensitivities of others. It is not a carte blanche to voice our opinion at all cost. Freedom of speech and expression is wonderful but to practice such freedom with disregard and disrespect of others is being irresponsible. It is a fine balance and I believe in treating others the way I want to be treated. Hence, I often catch myself and stop myself from saying something that I know will cause someone discomfort. I stop and check myself, what was my motivation to say something or do something?. I am afraid sometimes I am ashamed of my true intentions - they are anything but admirable. Driven by anger, driven by envy or driven by egotistical ends I wanted my words to hurt, to anger and to upset the intended recipient. I wanted to have the ‘last say’ or I wanted to be ‘right’ - pure arrogance, pure petulance. I would stop these deep ghastly stirrings of initial thoughts, and tell myself, that hurting someone else achieves no real result. I must admit, I am not always successful. For the feral, nasty beast in me sometimes unleashes itself and I cannot imagine how many people I may have hurt and angered. Hurting someone else, creates a cycle of hate and anger that will simmer on long after the incident is forgotten even though for just that moment it may have made me, the perpetrator feel victorious.

Perhaps, this is what the existentialist founding fathers were talking about when they philosophise about ‘angst’ and the inevitability of ‘angst’ in our existence. Perhaps, to be authentic to who we are, we cannot help but grapple with moral values, inner demons and how we must chastise our thoughts and intentions. Or perhaps, we just need to acknowledge what we are, forgive ourselves and in doing so, we can find the compassion to accept and we learn to respect others. By supporting others to be true to who they are in a positive way may perhaps help us unshackle ourselves from our fear being of a pariah of society. Now, that is quite an empowering thought...

Lessons from the saddle of a Bicycle

Just under a year ago, I told myself I needed to learn how to ride a bicycle. There was no specific reason or motivation for me to do. It was just one of those things I was quite embarrassed that I could not do when most people learnt to do so as a child. Then I attended a lesson and found out that I was not alone. There are others like me, who cannot cycle either. That was a relief. Then winter came so I used that as an excuse to shelf my plan to learn how to ride. Months went by and I did not get anywhere near a bicycle. Then I decided, I better do something about it else, it will just be all talk and my want to ride a bicycle, will just remain unfulfilled, idle talk. With the idea to save myself money from having to pay for lessons, I would invest in a bicycle. I reckon once I part with some cash, I will have to get out there and make it worthwhile.

So I got myself a bicycle, with trepidation and hope no one saw me as I wobbled and learnt to balance. Finally after 4 attempts I taught myself to cycle. Now I can just about cycle and steer straight, not quite good with corners and not quite confident enough to ride around yet. Nevertheless, after many years of thinking I could never cycle, I did it and it feels great!

Perhaps, not everyone who can cycle understand what it meant to me to be able to stay upright on a bicycle and to ride it but all I can say is that it was very liberating. It was not as daunting as I had thought. The experience proved to me that it was I who shackled myself to long held belief that I could not do it. Why did I have such beliefs? I don’t really know. Perhaps, it was easier to accept the belief I can’t do it rather than try and fail and feel so in apt?

So this made me wonder what other beliefs or lack of self-beliefs that I may have consciously or unconsciously developed that may have stopped me from doing and enjoying new experiences in life? Have I been traumatised as a child or have had some experiences growing up that filled me self -doubts over my abilities to do use my limbs in coordinated manner? Perhaps, it was my lack of coordination as a child in playing sports that I retreated from all things that require me to master the control over my limbs. I buried myself in academic excellence because that one I can do with hard work! I did not have to suffer the humiliation of looking like a fool or coming in last in sports.

Learning to cycle is in a way, a step for me to try and slowly overcome other self-imposed fears I have. The one fear that I hope to overcome next is my fear of drowning. A fear that I have allowed to stop me from being able to swim. A fear which I know will be more of a challenge to overcome. This experience will no doubt be a subject of another blog when I finally overcome it!

I would recommend to anyone, to give something you have always wanted to do but for whatever reason was afraid or never got around to it, a try. It’s a wonderful feeling to finally see what you can achieve and it does change the way you think about other aspects of your life.

Little changes, lead to bigger ones and all it takes it just taking that small step.

From the Horse’s Mouth

Once upon a time not so long ago and in a land not so far away, a stumbling klutz discovered running. Ditched the couch potato lifestyle. Ditched the cigarettes. Donned a pair of trainers and hesitantly attempted to run. Through the gasping, aches, pains and some injuries, I was able to sort of call myself a runner. A novice runner at best and as a novice I developed an obsession for most things to do with running. Websites,blogs,Twittersphere chatter and books. It was in this myriad world of reading that I stumbled upon a book enticingly called ‘Born to Run’ by Christopher McDougall. A book which I thought would affirm in me that there is no myth in running and that everyone can run and this is where it all began.


“Full of incredible characters, amazing athletic achievements, cutting-edge science, and, most of all, pure inspiration, Born to Run is an epic adventure that began with one simple question: Why does my foot hurt? In search of an answer, Christopher McDougall sets off to find a tribe of the world's greatest distance runners and learn their secrets, and in the process shows us that everything we thought we knew about running is wrong…”
- source: www.chrismcdougall.com

Having been quite inspired by this book ,when I received an email that one of the central characters in this book was in UK, to do a series of talk, I promptly registered for the talk .
The man I went to see was Caballo Blanco, an eccentric American who roamed, ran and lived among the Tarahumaras, a tribe that McDougall described as super athletes as this tribe has the ability to run continuously over long distances of hundreds of miles.

Caballo Blanco’s real name is Micah True and as he claimed in the opening of his talk, he is no super athlete nor proclaim to be an expert in running and is definitely not here to talk about the science of running. He is just someone who loves running and who is privileged to live among the Tarahumaras, in the Copper Canyons, Sierra Madre in Mexico. So what was his story? How did he come to be featured in the book?

Caballo cuts a tall, lean figure at age 58, but you would have thought he might have discovered the fountain of youth in the canyons. Perhaps, distance running is the elixir of youth? He looked quite different from how the book portrayed him. In the book, he was portrayed as a wild, unshaven, long -haired hippie who lived in the mountains. Here stood a man completely shaven, dressed in T-shirt, shorts and yes, he even wore shoes. Caballo even made a joke about how he left all his long hair behind in the canyons and when it came to the issue with shoes, he does wear them and no, he does not run barefoot. Neither do the Tarahumaras and he cannot quite understand how barefoot running was associated with this tribe. This is one of a few things that Caballo was quite critical about with what had been written in the book. ‘ The book has taken some poetic licence’ - Caballo said with a cynical smile.

Here’s a link of Caballo in person
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fj_pyfMoLio&feature=related

This is when he explained the reason he was here. The reason for him to take on taking speaking engagement. He wanted to use what the book has done for him and the tribe, as an opportunity to tell the world about the true lives of the Tarahumaras. An opportunity to raise awareness, funds and help to support a sustainable livelihood for these people whom he has great respect and love for. All proceeds of his talk goes to a non for profit organisation he heads called ‘Friends of the Running People’. It is through such support that he hopes, the Tarahumaras can continue to run free and that their lives can be sustained , respected and flourish for many generations to come.

Here’s a link of a film that was shown
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YIyEvomUz14

So how does someone called Micah True became Caballo Blanco and became synonymous with the Tarahumaras? Micah as he was called then, stumbled into running quite by accident. He began running in his mid 20’s and it was to escape from the everyday life of working hard and partying hard. He would starve for days and take long hikes to get away. Then realising how unfit he was, he took up martial arts, watched his diet and began to run regularly. Soon he was running more than his friends in martial arts because he enjoyed it, with a mileage of 180 - 190 miles per week.

He still hadn’t taken himself to be a serious runner though he had won a few races. Blighted by injuries, he stopped racing and he felt that he have had enough because he ran for enjoyment. Then he had a terrible accident on a bicycle from which when he recovered, he decided to celebrate by entering the Leadville 100, in Colorado. It is here that his encounter with the Tarahumaras, eventually changed his life.

In 1993, the Tarahumaras were entered into the Leadville 100 by an astute and enterprising organiser. Impoverished and hungry, the Tarahumaras agreed to participate in exchange for food. Up till then, no one had heard of the Tarahumaras, soon they caught the media attention, sponsorship came pouring in and Leadville 100 was launched into the limelight. As in the book, Caballo’s re-telling of this story, makes you feel quite angry at how the vulnerability of the Tarahumaras was exploited for the personal gains of others - organisers, media and sponsors. In a sense this, makes you question the commercialisation of running- glorifying the sport, making it cool, making it sexy and putting it on a ‘stage’. The must have kit, the proliferation of fancy running techniques, training regimes, the performance enhancing diet etc.. and the list goes on.

As to be expected then, that Caballo was asked questions relating to what shoes is best to running techniques he would recommend and diet to adopt if one wants to run better. His answer - where what feels good for you. Lower base shoes will help minimise the rolling of the foot on uneven surfaces. With running techniques - run tall, run smooth, relax and feel your own pace. His philosophy ‘ Be easy, be light and be smooth’ - he said with a smile.

Perhaps, we have really overcomplicated things. Perhaps, as the book said, we are born to run but through modern lifestyle, our muscular structure, our physical bodies have no need to develop and adapt to enable us to run. Caballo pointed out that the Tarahumaras are not super human, they are just more adapt to run because of where they live and because of their lifestyle. ‘If you can run 15 miles, you can run 50 miles’ - so Caballo said. I must admit I cannot fathom running 50 miles but I guess when you think about it, he is quite right. It is a matter of motivation and desire. If we all really wanted to, we will train ourselves to run whatever distances we set our minds to.

I wouldn’t say Caballo is a great orator or inspiring speaker but he kept things very real, down to earth and reminded me that simplicity is best. His stories, his attitude towards running, affirms me in why I run. Affirms me that in enjoying running, I have perhaps stumbled upon a whole new world and lifestyle choice that promises much more then just P Bs.

Stripped back, stripped bare all because I ran

The last few months have been quite challenging. There were a few running niggles and sprains, there were incidents that triggered happy and some not so happy memories, then there was the loss of mum and now a small fracture in my foot has forced me to stop running. Time to rest and recover. This in itself, is even harder as idle time leaves me vulnerable to emotions and thoughts I don’t particularly like.

In fact, in the last 12 - 13 months, running enabled me to focus on more basic things. It helped me focus on getting healthier, fitter and to work through a lot of anger. This new obsession left little time to think, brood or over-analyse the past, or get worked up about the little daily irritations and the future, is just measured in terms of running goals - how much fitter can I get? What new running routes can I experience? How can I share my running experience with my sister who started me off? What races can do I?

The ultimate goal is to keep and remain healthy, to venture into experiences I would not have even thought of - from half marathon (later this year and next), marathons to hikes or climbs (in the next year & foreseeable future to come). Even though I have made a small start, there is still a long way yet to go. However, in this small step, something happened to me. It is as if I have stripped back, stripped away and stripped bare all the complications, emotional and mental shackles that I did not even realised were there.

Strange and unfamiliar? Oh yes. It was and it is still quite strange to find myself stop in mid thought especially when I am angry, irate or upset. Often in doing so, I realised how in my mind, I may have coloured the actual situation that has caused me to react with complicated permutations. Exaggerated significance of something that is said or not said. Worried about my place or significance in a situation or to someone. In truth, more often than not, it was a passing moment in time. I am no more important or significant than the fly on the wall! If only I had spent less time worrying and getting upset in the past, I would have had less frown lines and I would have had more enriching, productive and positive relationships. In the past, my personal mantra has always been ‘why me?’… ‘I cannot do this’… ‘He/she made me angry because…’ or ‘How do I get people to like me’ or…’Why do people not like me’. List goes on. You get the picture!

A liberation from personal sanctioned limitations? Most definitely. More importantly I have come to realised, to appreciate and to acknowledge that I do possess personal strength and courage that I didn’t think I had. That it was ok, to stop, look back and celebrate how I have survived a few setbacks. For this, I have mum and dad to thank for giving me and sis, as we were growing up the courage to try things on our own and that there is no shame in admitting ignorance. Not a matter of life or death, if we failed. In a way, mum was an inspiration because she left home at a young age, worked away from home, read a little Chinese but otherwise illiterate but she had in her later years, travelled on her own, she spoke a few Chinese dialects, she spoke English and even at one point was a nanny to an Australian family. For someone who didn’t drive and couldn’t read road signs, mum had no fear of getting lost or going on her much loved driving adventure. Sis and I in the driver’s seat would of course, groaned! Dad was a totally different animal, a rebel from a young age, he mellowed into wonderfully patient father. It was as if, he was quite happy with the simplicity of life - work, his black coffee in the morning and his cigarettes. His push-ups and dumb bells work out. Of course, the pleasure of polishing his car till it gleamed. His attitude was ‘ All in good time and nothing is a matter of life and death’. It is perhaps from mum and dad that sis and I, find that inner strength. I am only sad, that I didn’t realised this until mum’s recent passing.

What about friendships and relationships with others? This is perhaps an area in my life that I have struggled with the most. Defining personal boundaries. Differentiating love and need. Defining what friendship truly means to me and recognising relationships that are not supportive. Most difficult of all, is for me to acknowledge that there are not so pleasant sides to people that are often hidden and to find compassion to accept, to forgive and not be affected when I catch glimpses of these ugly sides. Hence, I suspect, one of the reasons why I take so quickly to running is because it is quite a solitary pursuit. In that 40 minutes, 1 hour or 2 hours, I escape away from the world. There is just me and the outdoors. As I struggle with the first few kilometres, all I need to do is just plod along until my body gets into rhythm and just run. No one’s troubles trouble me. Anguish of others and with others just fall away. The mind clears. The body relaxes, until of course the mind or legs scream at me to stop whichever happens first!

So what changed? What caused me to strip back and strip bare some (not quite all yet!) of my old worn out excuses and out dated mode of thinking? Frankly, I do not know. I am not even sure it was a ‘eureka’ moment or a moment of epiphany. All I know is, sometimes we need to stop what we are doing and take time out and find the courage to really look at why we do or don’t do certain things in our lives. What are we afraid of? Failure? Shame? Where did these unhelpful thoughts and feelings come from?

We may say, we don’t have time or we don’t believe it’s ‘us’. Time - everyone has 24 hrs in a day so why is it that there are some people who accomplishes more than we do? If something is not for ‘us’ - why? Too old? Too unfit? There are also people who are well advanced in their age who go sky-diving and run marathons. Too unfit? The question is do we want to get fitter? If no and we are happy then that’s great. If fitness is a goal, then what can we do about it?

A quote that stayed me recently is ‘Be the change that you want to see’ and I believe, if we learn to let go and open our minds to new possibilities, although at first we may be afraid, doubtful or tentative about what we can become, over-coming each small tentative steps I can assure you is very liberating and rewarding. There are 2 questions to ask ourselves - do I think I have unconsciously or consciously shackled myself to excuses and limitations that I need to strip away and secondly, does it matter enough for me to want to make a change for the better.

You may not like the answers. Personal honesty can be brutal.

Keeping Things Simple

It wasn’t so long ago that life was anything but simple. I had always thought, the problem was not with me, life was just unfair or people were just horrible creatures or ‘I deserve better’ etc…There was always something, someone or some situation that I would and could find fault with. I had failed to acknowledge that there was one common denominator, in every moment of distress and distraught - me!

At last, I confessed, I was self-masochistic. It was not a case of attracting unhealthy and destructive elements and influences. I, unknowingly was very good at seeking out the theatrics and melodramatics of life. It was as if, making good chaos or taking on risks at the expense of personal well-being, somehow made me felt alive and/or worthy. Like a impetuous child in a candy store, I could not and did not want to control my impulses because it always felt so exciting and titillating to be reckless. Worry about crashing down later, when and if that happened!

Unfortunately, after many ‘crashes’ and bruises later, I still continued along the same well-worn path of self-destruction and self-inflicted distress. I was so caught up in complicated emotional and mentally challenging situations. My relationships with others were mired with conflict, confrontation, angst, power-struggle and fault- finding mission. My framework was always ‘should have’, ‘could have’, ‘would never’ and my favourite ’ I didn’t have a choice’.

My preoccupations were with why and how things are not right, not working out, this problem and that, what’s wrong with this, that and the other. I was so preoccupied with all that made me unhappy or distressed, I failed to see that there were things in life which matter and there were things in life that did not. Only when I finally had to physically move home, then chose to take up a new interest and made new acquaintances along the way, that I realised how I have trapped myself into a self-defeating, negative and energy-zapping way of thinking.

Now I am learning to keep things simple. If something, someone or situation causes me distress, then it is probably best to address it head-on or walk-away because in the bigger scheme of things, such niggles are not really important. Little annoyances are part of life but, will cease to be important when the moment passes.

More importantly, I have learnt to be more forgiving and accepting of my own faults and limitations. Perhaps, it is signs of getting a little older or perhaps, it is something I learnt each day as I strap on my trainers and head out for my runs. I have been told that it’s all the endorphins produced in my body after a run that gives me that ‘feel good’ factor. Whatever it may be, the simple act of motion and being able to overcome physical discomfort and mental challenge as I am slowly able to run faster and further is quite liberating and empowering.

There is also something quite comforting and reassuring when I put on my trainers and head out the door. I know where I am going, I know at certain points in my run, I will feel lighter and better. I also know that there will be moments when I will be annoyed with myself because my body and my mind are just not cooperating!! It is in these little battles with my body, my mind and the daily elements that has somehow helped me put other aspects of my life into clearer perspectives. If this is true, how I wish I discovered the pleasure of such simplicity earlier.

But then again, I was probably not ready then. As the cliché goes.. You can lead a bull to water but you ain’t gonna make it drink!!

Why we never ask why?

I remember many, many years ago when I first stepped into the real working world, one of my many mentors said to me - keep things simple, in everything that you do, you need to know what it is, when you need to do it, how to do it and more importantly, why you do it. Understand the reasons, debate the rationale, accept and execute or if disagree, find an alternative and just do it. He would often tell me - cut the waffling, cut the what if's and know when something is a reason and not just an excuse. Simple? You would think so, wouldn't you?

Well, if things were that simple, we would have perfectly defined parameters of what is right and wrong that applies to everyone, everything and every situation. But do we really? Perhaps there are some of us who would like to think so or even believe we have such definitive views. However, how can what I think and what I believe be totally applicable to you? I as an individual, will have different way of framing the world as I see it. I may have motivations, aspirations, personal life experiences and social nurturing that shape my thinking and my actions. Hence, should I even assume, judge or perscribe what someone else should think or do?

The complexities of our own human nature, itself makes us an enigma to ourselves. It takes years and years of quiet contemplation, to strip away the different layers for what we are or what we think we are. How many of us even bother to contemplate? How many of us just pooh pooh the idea? Afterall, there's so much to do in life.. jobs.. careers..places to be... places to go.. people to see etc.. and the lists goes on. Perhaps, we live life at such surface level, we are no longer comfortable to sit quietly, to stop and really, really think about why we say certain things and why we do certain things. Perhaps, we are afraid by what we might find? We might find deep insecurities, self-perceived flaws and all sorts of fears, we just don't want to do anything about it because it's just too difficult. Easier to amble through life doing what we know. Hiding behind well-worned path.

So we seldom ask truly why or even if we do, we often find answers that suit our own original way of thinking. In most cases, we have already made up our minds about someone, something or a situation. The truth or any alternative view is not longer important to us. To acknowledge any other reasons would be to admit ignorance or to admit that we are wrong. Now, we surely cannot have that stamped on our fragile egos, can we? What others don't know about us, they cannot hurt us. As long as I hide my ignorance and inferiority, I am safe.

However, does that mean, we should project our personal demons onto others? Saying things we don't really mean? Or saying things with double entendre and then deny we meant to be nasty or inappropriate when confronted? Perhaps, most of the time, we don't even realise we are manipulating the thoughts and feelings of others because we are so disassociated with our personal thoughts and feelings. Then, we just label others as being super-sensitive?

Perhaps most tragic of all is, those of us who fall into the category of don't know what I don't know and don't care to understand. Asking why, just opens up a whole can of worms or is that pandora's box?

Life is not a race or a competition, or is it?

If I were to say, I am not competitive, I would be telling a lie. I am competitive because I like the recognition of my abilities. I like the acknowledgement that I have done well and that I am better than some. Success and achievement are great to bolster our sense of well being and confidence and such positive influences help us progress and remove personal barriers in our lives. Simply put, helps us be our best.

However, when does the need to be better, bigger, smarter, richer and the list goes on, become not a desirable or attractive quality? When does the drive, the motivation and the will to be our best becomes a burden? Do people sometimes, feel a need to be competitive as a way to dampen their deep sense personal insecurities?

As far as I can remember, I have never even give a thought to what it means to be competitive or if I am or not. I did not have reasons to question my motivations about why I do certain things or why I cultivate certain behaviours, habits and more so, why I nurtured some relationships and indirectly shied away from others. All that changed, in the last few months. It all changed when I realised what personal best, really means. Personal Best or PB, as it's affectionally called is just what it is. A measurement of one's achievement and that is why it's 'personal' just for that reason.

With this realisation, I struggle as I grapple with situations where I have been drawn to account for, to justify and more often than not to acknowledge that someone else is better than I am without question, even though sometimes the facts do not make sense or do not seem logical at all. I struggle not because I cannot accept that others are better than I am but I struggle with the deep seated need for one up-manship where there's no neccessity. In my struggle, I questioned myself as to whether perhaps, I may have indirectly caused others to behave such a way? Do I perhaps, come across as know-it-all and therefore caused others to want to prove me wrong? Or am I too arrogant and opinionated that others just want to show that I am a fool?

As I plod along, none the wiser, I am privileged to know some people who showed me humilty. People who come from very diverse background, age and gender and yet share a common ground of understanding what it means to achieve a personal best. They are competitive, yet in a positive, nurturing and inspiring way. So why are these people so different? What makes them grounded and yet have not lost their spirit to challenge themselves?

Maybe, it is to accept that despite our personal limitations - physical, mental or ignorance, we should not be ashamed, or be embarrassed or to feel inadequate. It takes more grace to recognise that we are flawed but the flawed bits can be improved or addressed at our own personal pace. We should perhaps take inspiration from those who are less able than us who have achieved much more and ask ourselves, why have we not push ourselves that bit more when others have?

Life is only a race and a competition in our personal journey to our own PB. Any other way, we run ourselves ragged, trying to achieve the impossible. There will be no end. There will never be any satisfaction.

Pain - A Necessary Evil

Having spent the last few days, limping up and down the stairs and trying to not scrunge up my face whenever I bend my knee, some people may wonder why do I get so obessessed with the one activity that gives me pain. I too used to labelled those who punish their bodies, running through rain, shine and all sorts of muscle misallignment or misfortune as utterly mad. Now I sort of get it and have to humbly eat my own words. Now I have perhaps, joined the growing number of people who lace up and actually enjoy the liberation of running. I concede defeat for I have succumbed to what I call 'running for my life' syndrome

Running for me is not just about putting on a pair of running shoes and getting out there to achieve calories burnt, distance covered, PB time achieved or preparing for the race we have decided to sign to support a charity. For me, there is a certain wisdom and philopsophy to running that has helped me change the way I think of my body, my ability and how I frame my peformances and achievements. It has helped me understand what personal best truly means. It has taught me to accept that I am a work-in-progress and will continue to be a work-in-progress.

About a year ago, my life was at a low ebb. I had reached a point where the challenges and injustices I experienced over the years in my professional and personal life began to take its toll. I was perhaps bordering on mild depression. I was mentally, emotional and physically fatigued. On top of all that, financially I was living from hand to mouth. It is during this period of illness and rest that everything began to come to light. Everything that I could not see and did not want to see about myself and about my life came down upon me like a tonne of bricks. During these moments of revelation, I hated what I discovered. I was angry and hurt. Now, I realised that despite the fact that I am still angry, it truly was a blessing that I reached that low point. It was a blessing because it saved me from further personal disasters which would have been more difficult for me to recover from.

It is in looking back that I realised I have progressed and continue to progress as I am in my running. I understand now that the like physical discomfort in running, the pain and angst I had endured for a long time was a necessary evil to mark my progress in life. I have not quite come to embrace pain - be in mental, physical or in whatever form. However, to be able to look back in anger, let it go and move forward is an achievement enough for me to feel proud of.

Perhaps, the strong ones among us are those who can graciously accept and embrace the imperfections, angst and limitations of being human. No different I suppose from how top athletes and sports people look beyond the physical pain to achieve their personal best. It takes a lot of mental strength to overcome our innate sense to run away and to avoid any form of displeasure.

So the next time I lace up and try to beat my personal clock, I will be less frustrated with myself if my body and self-talk convinces me I can run no faster or go no further. I will go 'Oh Hello...I recognise you Mr Pain' and just have to try a little harder, next time.

As a quote aptly puts it ' Pain is weakness leaving the body'

Compassion Where Art Thou?

Often times, after getting over my angst, frustrations and annoyances with people in general, I feel dreadful. I feel dreadful for getting angry. I feel dreadful for being frustrated and annoyed with people, just because I find their views, opinions, motivations and actions unacceptable to me. These may be unacceptable for various reasons. Unacceptable because I find what people say or do, hypocritical. Unacceptable because what was said or done was disrespectful, naive or was based on nothing more than assumptions. And lately, I have no patience for people who expects respect, compromises and to be treated as if they deserve more. As much as I get annoyed, I do try my best to shake it off or risk sounding patronising. Whichever way, I still feel that I really shouldn't be so harsh and judgmental as I am aware I too am imperfect. That I too,annoy, frustrate and perhaps seem like a right plonker to others. I should be more forgiving and extend a sense of compassion in my relationships with people. Why then do I struggle with compassion, if this is the answer to all my woes?

In our daily lives, we symphatise and we emphatise with others. We have a simple understanding of how it feels like when someone is wronged, or when there is an injustice or when there is a loss. This is because, we probably have some similar experiences to draw from. Also, society expects us to behave in an appropriate manner when situations arise where we should be symphatetic or emphatetic. Whether we do this sincerely because we really do share or value the same things, is altogether another matter. Or alternative, we may decide that we are somehow truer to ourselves by being a rebel against society norm and prefer to be cynical, critical and objective as symphaties and emphaties are just frivolous and baseless. Whichever we lean - we have a certain mode of conduct. Whichever way we may lean, this does not mean we are compassionate or discompassionate.

Compassion goes much deeper that expressing a sense of 'putting ourselves' in someone else's shoes and imagine what it feels like to be in a certain situation. Compassion means stripping away all our pre-conceived expectations, putting aside our own values to acknowledge, respect and accept another as another flawed human being like us. It means disassociating our sense of self from others. It is not no longer about who and what another as defined by us and their relationship to us. It is about another, as they are. Being compassionate, means we need to reframe the way we look at ourselves, the world beyond ourselves and a much bigger scheme of life.

Perhaps, the main struggle is in how we see ourselves. Perhaps, we place too much significance to who we are, our values and our sense of self compared to everyone else and everything else. It is difficult to accept and acknowledge our own insignificance and still find the compassion towards ourselves to have a positive and productive life. For anyone who has ever loved and have a loved one leave us, will know it is easier to be angry and find reasons for the breakdown than to accept that we are no longer loved or significant to another. Similarly, we have an in-built mechanism that takes over - where we cling at all cost to our false sense of significance. If we can find the true compassion to acknowledge, accept and respect that in the bigger scheme of life, we are all the same. No better. No worse. Just different.

Perhaps, the next time I do get annoyed, I will remind myself humbly - who am I to judge? who am I to say what is right or wrong? who am I but just like you imperfect.

Did 'The Stones' get it right?

I can hear Mick Jagger going ' I can't get no satisfaction' ringing in my head. Was he right? Did the Rolling Stones somehow managed to summise our insatiable human nature? Don't we often wish for things we could have or wish we could be rid of things we no longer find useful or we got bored with? Some days, we wake up and feel that we rather be somewhere else or doing something other than what we must or what responsibilities dictate that we must do. Even when we are having a great time, we wish it would never end or wish someone else was with us or perhaps not with us.

The list goes on and on. Different day. Different scenario. Different relationships. Same old feeling. Same old wish for something bigger, better, quicker etc...How did we become like this? Has perhaps affluence or civilisation molded us to keep wanting more and more because all our basic needs to live is no longer an issue? How can we learn to be grateful for what we have and be content with outcomes in our lives from choices we have made or not made? Do we want to continue searching for the panacea that will free us from our , perhaps self-inflicted misery?

There was a report on the news recently about a police officer who in carrying out his duties, he was shot and completely lost his sight. All he had greeting him every morning when he wakes up is just darkness. Watching him tell his story and listening to him speak about how he refused to let his blindness cripple him for the rest of his life, I am filled with such shame. I am ashamed that I even waste my energy and time recounting and revisiting the injustices and trivialities of my life. Does it not just then put all the mundane, small irritants, daily stress we feel into perspective? What right have we to complain about our lives when a person such as this policeman, though he has lost his sight, chose to get on with his best that he can and not wallow in misery? I felt suitably chastised and rightly so.

Perhaps, we just need to stop doing and wanting things. We need to take the time to stop and think about what is really important to us. Savour the good moments. Truly acknowledge and accept personal responsibilities for choices we made or didn't have the courage to make. Stop ourselves from using phrases such as 'I had to do this because........ and therefore I did not have a choice...' It is too easy to attribute outcomes, consequences or situations of our lives to something else or someone else. Even in situations of life and death, we have the power to make a choice. It is whether the choices are right or wrong. It is whether we are willing to accept full responsibilities for our lives.

Perhaps, from time to time, we need to remember how and why we are where we are. It may mean revisiting reasons why we stay in our jobs or pursue certain ambitions. Are we still happy with those reasons? Have our motivations perhaps changed? Or are the trade-offs and sacrifices we have made still acceptable to us? In the same why, we perhaps need to remind ourselves of all the good things in our relationships with our families, spouses and friends or take courage to confront, address issues or even walk away.

As human, we cling and attach to what we are familiar with. Regardless how miserable we feel or angry or unhappy, we stay with what we know. We lock ourselves into a familiar modus operandi. Perhaps, we make excuses for ourselves that holds us back from embracing what we have - 'I have no time for this' or 'I can't do that' or 'This is simply just not me' or 'It's too far...too expensive' etc..etc.. The list of can't or won't is perhaps as long if not longer that the list of things we are not happy with or not satisfied with....

There is only one certainty in life.. and that is, one day we will all perish. We can chose to worry, fret, pout or be unhappy while our clock ticks on or we can learn to accept that life is not quite perfect but be grateful for who we are, what we have and find compassion for those who are none the wiser.

Satisfaction may not be insight..but at least we stop searching for it and start living. Maybe?

Blinded Then...Running Free Now

Isn't life a bit like an optical illusion image? What lies in front of us may not be what we can truly perceive. We see only what our minds allow us to see. We seemed momentarily blinded until something clicks in our minds or something or someone shows us a fresh viewpoint. Then everything slowly unravels and we land with a thud, grounded in truth. At least this is what seems me to, is how I discovered personal truths about my life. It is as if all the little unconnected, trivial and forgotten conversations, angst and experiences came together to form a picture of what had really been going on. Why had I not realised this before? What caused me to float through it all in oblivious ignorance? Would I have made different choices if I had been more aware? Questions I suppose I will never have answers to and in all honesty, probably is of no relevance now.

This realisation of some harsh truths about my life and specifically my experiences and relationships in recent years was not a welcome intrusion. In some way, that ignorance was bliss but a bliss which was destructive to me in the end. I would never have the satisfaction of confronting the perpetrators of these deceits and unmasking them for who they are. On balance, best to let these beasts lie where they are. Some unfinished business is best left unfinished even if on occasions, there are moments when certain memories and mental picture, troubles me. These intrusive thoughts do pass and I am certain eventually they will cease to be of any significance.

As much as I still feel the deep sense of anger and betrayal, I welcome these feelings now. These are feelings which give me the motivation to change. These are the feelings that remind me that I had the strength to walk away and disassociate myself from all that was destructive. As shallow as it may seem, the sweetest revenge is one of personal progress inspite of it all. It feels quite good, as it seems, I am running free now, literally and metaphorically.

Of Cats, Dogs and Being Human

I must be quite thoughtless and uncaring human being because, I was not affected in anyway by that story of the woman who put a cat in a wheelie bin last week. I have no pets and I am not a cat hater or a dog hater in anyway and I don't think what was done to the poor cat was right but I was shocked by the maliciousness and anger that this CCTV footage has caused. The incident even warrant a discussion on Sunday morning TV about whether people are perhaps too obsessed with their pets. Perhaps, the discussion or the question should be why is there an obsession to judge and prosecute others on a small piece of footage or news?

Then this week, is the prosecution of William Hague and one of his advisers because they shared a twin bedded hotel room while on a campaign trail. This media revelation, as it were called into question the 'inappropriate relationship' they supposedly possessed. How does sharing a bedroom lead to an assumption of there being an 'inappropriate relationship'? Don't boys go on rugby or football tours, sometimes end up sharing twin bedded rooms? Does the situation become controversial, implying some sordid, hidden 'relationship' because parties concern here are involved in the public life? Does creating headlines, selling more papers or increasing more viewership or clicks on a website justifies the unravelling of lives affected by this whole circus?

As much as I or anyone can be angry with the media or others who are directly responsible for creating and feeding such news for public consumption, I find it very sad that people actually participate in the media circus by making comments that fueled these situations even more. I wonder what they would say to others if their own lives are being scrutinised, being critically analysed and debated over, judged and being made a mockery of in the public? I won't be suprised if I hear screams of ' Mind your own bloody business'. So shouldn't we give others regardless if they are ordinary people or people who have a public life, the same respect we would like, expect and demand from others? Have we no flaws or things in our lives that we wouldn't necessary want our neighbours, colleagues, friends and even families to know about?

The question that needs to be asked is - are people's lives so empty, devoid of meaning or excitement that someone else's life becomes more interesting? Has the hum drum of everyday living - work, family and all the mundaneness of living caused people to be voyeuristic or live their lives through others? Or perhaps, it makes people feel better about themselves by looking for flaws, faults and wrong-doings in others, so they can vent their pent up frustrations, angst and dissatisfaction at someone or something else.

Worst of all, the anonymity of the internet, provides the safety net to do just that. It is so easy for people to leave comments, to expound and express their feelings, with no regard for consequences. Freedom of speech and expression? Or the next best thing, get a pet who, regardless what you say, regardless how flawed you are will remain loyal and dedicated to you as long as you provide food, shelter and 'love'.

Mind over matter?

In recent months, I decided it was time to break out of my comfort zone. Perhaps, it had something to do with turning the dreaded FOUR 'O' and perhaps it had something to do with various self-defeatist and self-destructive personal modus operandi which I had no one to blame for the consequences but me. Shallow as it may seem, it was definitely a personal goal to get fit, healthy and hopefully, looking better to show the 'world' that I have moved on, moved forward, looking and feeling great. Yes, it was a sign of mid-life crisis or sweet revenge or both!

So as I started to slowly drag this out of shape, out of breath body out into the great outdoors, cursing myself for the junk I used to eat and the ciggies I so loved to smoke, I realised there is so much more to physical exertion and muscle aches. It dawned upon me, that I have to become more aware of what I can physically do and what my mind tells me I can or cannot do. I have become aware of how mentally, I would cling on to what is familiar and what is non-threatening to my own self-constructed image of myself.

Perhaps, as we get older, we forget what it was like as a young child, when we had no fear of what was new to us. As a young child, we did not have certain set 'standards' to pre-judge ourselves or others. We would just plunge into a new experience, a new venture and enjoy learning new things. As we get older, we become so afraid to fail and yet we subconsciously and indirectly, we are competitive. We compare and make critical judgments about ourselves to cushion ourselves from criticism from others - a masked inferiority, perhaps?. Or we compare and become critical of others when we know we are better - arrogance of superiority?. Something I read in a book by Martina Navratilova, strikes a chord here. She wrote, that one does not have to be perfect in pursuit of excellence. In the pursuit of excellence, is putting in one's best effort in what you do and it's not about being the best. I find this rather comforting as I struggle with my efforts to run and get healthy, even though each time I am out running, there are many people who go running whiz past me! I remind myself, that everyone's different and we all need to give ourselves permission to progress at our own pace. It is not a competition but a personal journey.

It has been a personal journey indeed for me. A journey that is helping me to slowly overcome that mental block that stops me trying harder. There are moments or days, where it was just easier to forget about eating properly or running or exercising. The temptation is to sink my teeth into my favourite chocolate cheesecake or the urge to have that after meal cigarette or ditch the run or exercise, curl up on the couch and watch telly! The nice 'fluffy', cosiness of all things so familiar and required no effort. Often, I catch myself getting lulled into such lovely cosy thoughts and I just get up and follow the famous Nike mantra ' just do it'... don't think...don't post-rationalise...just get myself into a discpline and make it a habit. So...I continue to battle through my temptations.....

I suppose in similar ways, being aware of what the mind does to cajole us, to urge us to action or inaction can be quite liberating. I remember, many many years ago in my short venture into learning about Vipassana Meditation, we learnt about understanding and developing an awareness of our thoughts. We were asked to observe, acknowledge and relinquish the thoughts that invade and prevade our minds. It was and still is one of the most difficult things to do. We get so enmeshed in the emotions that thoughts provoke in us, we forget to stop and ask ourselves if our thoughts are productive or counter-productive to us. We just re-act and post rationalised our actions or inactions.

So despite my muscle aches and total sense of insecurity about myself and my physical state, and my sometimes deluded sense of achievement, I believe most things in life is about mind over matter. It is learning the art, of understanding and channelling our energy to overcome futile, unproductive thoughts. It is finding the motivation, the desire to want to make that slow change. Changing the way we think and then the way we want to live is difficult but liberating. However, we all have a personal choice - take responsibility and commit to make changes to our lives for the better or be happy with what we have. Whichever choice we make, it will always go back to mind over matter....how satiated or insatiable the mind is with who and what we are.