This Sunday, I'll be toeing the start line at Ironman Western Australia in Busselton. It'll be my 5th time starting an Ironman race, my first one overseas.
The final week heading into a race is always a tricky one. Without fail, my head will go through the same motions:
"Finally! Can't wait for the race!"
"Woo hoo! It's race week!"
"Taper time!"
"By this time next week, I'll be done!"
"Let's get this over and done with!"
"OMG! It's this week ah???!!!"
"Shit! Didn't train enough!"
"Oh no! I'm gonna die!"
"Die! Die! DIE!!!!"
"Taper?! What taper?! Didn't even train, want to taper ah!!!"
"Ok, still got one week, let's rack up more mileage!"
This last thought is the dangerous one. This is the week you're supposed to be resting and carbo-loading, workouts to be kept short and low intensity. And yet, your mind is saying, "Dude, you haven't trained enough, let's go get that ultra-long ride in, let's jump in the pool and do 5000m, we need that 35k run done."
Don't.
The temptation to go out and whack a the long miles will be strong this week. Especially when you know you haven't done enough. But at the same time, you also know you don't want to tire yourself out. And you want to stay injury-free (yesterday's short 10k run already put a strain on my left calf. Thankfully, it's all good now). I was already warned last week that I was heading towards burnout. A friend sent me a long email, saying she saw some of the danger signs I was displaying. The funny thing is, you don't see it yourself. You need someone to point it out for you. She also gave me some really good training advice. And when that advice comes from a Kona qualifier, you listen!
Now that race week is here, I'm going to do myself a favour, I'm going to do what I do best: be lazy! This Sunday will show whether I've trained enough.
Wish me luck!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
PB at PM thanks to SSS.
I know the title of this post seems a bit weird, but read on and you'll be able to figure it out.
I just scored a personal best at one of the races I usually suffer at. In fact, I gave Powerman a miss last year because the mere thought of suffering through that second run was enough to make me wish I'd never started running. But for some inexplicable reason, I let my mouse wander over the registration button on the Powerman website and clicked it. Next thing I know, I'm registered for this year's event.
This year, I had the bonus of having my kids, Shafeeq and Shaqeel, come watch me race. And Senn was more than happy to give up racing to help babysit them while I was out there suffering.
Having them there really made a difference. For one thing, I didn't want them to see me fail again like what happened in Langkawi this year. So that gave me an extra incentive to do well. For another, having them there made it feel like we were on holiday, so I was completely relaxed the night before and didn't feel any pressure. And also, having them there made me want to hurry back to the stadium so I could see them and I knew the boys were going to be restless waiting, so I knew I needed to hurry through the race to save them from prolonged restlessness!
I was one of the last ones to start the race because I was giving instructions to the boys to listen to Senn when the gun went off. The first run was in cool conditions from the rain that just stopped. Within the first k I found Azmar and Fadil, so just paced with them throughout. We were running a decent pace, about 5:45min/km which may have been just a bit too fast, but I felt good and we continued. At the end of the first loop, there were Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel waiting for me. Boys looked quite happy to see me and that made me feel good. High-fived them and it was off for another loop. Another half an hour before I see them again.
More of the same on the second loop and we finished the run in one hour flat. A little faster than I had intended but it was ok. Off with the running shoes, on with the helmet and grabbed the bike. And there, at the bike exit, were the best support crew in the world: Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel. Another round of high-fives and I was off on the bike. One hour before I finish the first loop and see them again.
The first loop was pretty uneventful. Was going at a steady clip of about 32-36km/h. Legs felt good, aero position felt good. Got over the bridges without drama and headed back. Azmar passed me going up the bridge and I just couldn't hang on to him. But no big deal, just run my own race. Fadil, too, passed me on the way back to Manjung and again, I didn't even attempt to chase. Got back to the stadium and saw the boys and Senn again. Gave them a wave and I was off on the second loop. Another hour before I see them again.
Second loop wasn't so smooth. I could feel my calves starting to cramp up. Squirted some water on them and the cramps went away. Then I heard a thud behind me and AJ yelling I'd dropped something. At first I thought it was a water bottle, so I went on since I didn't really need that. Turns out it was my gel flask. That I need! So had to stop, lay the bike down, and run back the 20 or so metres to retrieve the bottle. Cost me a minute or two and about 10 riders passed me. Got back on the bike and it took a while for my legs to get back into the rhythm. Once I did, I caught up with the riders who passed me and was going back and forth with this lady on a Cervelo S2, being careful to stay out of her 7m draft zone. We were like this all the way back to T2. I gave it all I could since I knew my second run was going to be screwed anyway, thanks to the cramps that were developing in my legs.
After 2h07m I was back in transition. And as usual, there were my SSS (Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel) support crew out by the run exit. Gave the boys a quick hug (much to their disgust!), and I was off for the second run. Senn told me she was going to take the boys back to the car to rest. That was my cue to try and finish as quickly as I can. Wouldn't want the boys to get too restless.
The first km was quite tough and I was thinking, "Oh no! Here we go again! This is why I don't like to do Powerman." The crampy feeling had moved up to my thighs and it was getting really hard to run. But I refused to walk, walking would have been the end of it and the SSS support crew would have to wait two hours for my return. Not gonna happen. So I shuffled along to the first water station where there was a medic holding up that spray, so I told him to give me everything he's got. I swear that's a miracle spray because after that, the pain was gone. I just had to tell myself to run to the next water station, take a drink, then run to the next. And that's what I kept doing. Saw SSS by the car at the end of the first loop and gave them a wave. By now my pace was between 6:15-6:30min/km. All I had to do now was maintain this pace and I'll be able to see SSS in half an hour.
It's quite amazing what the mind can do. By now, the sun was out in full force, and my legs were getting really tired. But I just kept telling myself to run to the next station, run to the next station, run to the next station (it also helped that there were more water stations this year!). My mind refused to let me stop and walk. Just wanted to go see SSS as quickly as I could. And before I knew it, I was rounding the final corner and heading into the stadium. As I turned into the finishing chute, I saw, just beyond the finish line, SSS. It was all I needed to pick up speed and cross that line. Nailed the second run in 1h06m for a total time of 4h17m. A PB by half an hour.
And I owe it all to having the boys there and to Senn for having to put up with their restlessness. Please forgive her if she wasn't as chatty as usual, she had to put up with my boys' boredom. And that was not an easy task to do. Thank you, baby, for putting up with that so I could go racing. I owe you big time!
In case you haven't figured out what the title of this post means, it means Personal Best at PowerMan thanks to Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel.
I just scored a personal best at one of the races I usually suffer at. In fact, I gave Powerman a miss last year because the mere thought of suffering through that second run was enough to make me wish I'd never started running. But for some inexplicable reason, I let my mouse wander over the registration button on the Powerman website and clicked it. Next thing I know, I'm registered for this year's event.
This year, I had the bonus of having my kids, Shafeeq and Shaqeel, come watch me race. And Senn was more than happy to give up racing to help babysit them while I was out there suffering.
Having them there really made a difference. For one thing, I didn't want them to see me fail again like what happened in Langkawi this year. So that gave me an extra incentive to do well. For another, having them there made it feel like we were on holiday, so I was completely relaxed the night before and didn't feel any pressure. And also, having them there made me want to hurry back to the stadium so I could see them and I knew the boys were going to be restless waiting, so I knew I needed to hurry through the race to save them from prolonged restlessness!
Shafeeq and Shaqeel with me at the start.
I was one of the last ones to start the race because I was giving instructions to the boys to listen to Senn when the gun went off. The first run was in cool conditions from the rain that just stopped. Within the first k I found Azmar and Fadil, so just paced with them throughout. We were running a decent pace, about 5:45min/km which may have been just a bit too fast, but I felt good and we continued. At the end of the first loop, there were Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel waiting for me. Boys looked quite happy to see me and that made me feel good. High-fived them and it was off for another loop. Another half an hour before I see them again.
More of the same on the second loop and we finished the run in one hour flat. A little faster than I had intended but it was ok. Off with the running shoes, on with the helmet and grabbed the bike. And there, at the bike exit, were the best support crew in the world: Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel. Another round of high-fives and I was off on the bike. One hour before I finish the first loop and see them again.
The first loop was pretty uneventful. Was going at a steady clip of about 32-36km/h. Legs felt good, aero position felt good. Got over the bridges without drama and headed back. Azmar passed me going up the bridge and I just couldn't hang on to him. But no big deal, just run my own race. Fadil, too, passed me on the way back to Manjung and again, I didn't even attempt to chase. Got back to the stadium and saw the boys and Senn again. Gave them a wave and I was off on the second loop. Another hour before I see them again.
Really getting into the spirit of the race!
Second loop wasn't so smooth. I could feel my calves starting to cramp up. Squirted some water on them and the cramps went away. Then I heard a thud behind me and AJ yelling I'd dropped something. At first I thought it was a water bottle, so I went on since I didn't really need that. Turns out it was my gel flask. That I need! So had to stop, lay the bike down, and run back the 20 or so metres to retrieve the bottle. Cost me a minute or two and about 10 riders passed me. Got back on the bike and it took a while for my legs to get back into the rhythm. Once I did, I caught up with the riders who passed me and was going back and forth with this lady on a Cervelo S2, being careful to stay out of her 7m draft zone. We were like this all the way back to T2. I gave it all I could since I knew my second run was going to be screwed anyway, thanks to the cramps that were developing in my legs.
After 2h07m I was back in transition. And as usual, there were my SSS (Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel) support crew out by the run exit. Gave the boys a quick hug (much to their disgust!), and I was off for the second run. Senn told me she was going to take the boys back to the car to rest. That was my cue to try and finish as quickly as I can. Wouldn't want the boys to get too restless.
The first km was quite tough and I was thinking, "Oh no! Here we go again! This is why I don't like to do Powerman." The crampy feeling had moved up to my thighs and it was getting really hard to run. But I refused to walk, walking would have been the end of it and the SSS support crew would have to wait two hours for my return. Not gonna happen. So I shuffled along to the first water station where there was a medic holding up that spray, so I told him to give me everything he's got. I swear that's a miracle spray because after that, the pain was gone. I just had to tell myself to run to the next water station, take a drink, then run to the next. And that's what I kept doing. Saw SSS by the car at the end of the first loop and gave them a wave. By now my pace was between 6:15-6:30min/km. All I had to do now was maintain this pace and I'll be able to see SSS in half an hour.
Waiting for their slow-ass dad to finish the race.
It's quite amazing what the mind can do. By now, the sun was out in full force, and my legs were getting really tired. But I just kept telling myself to run to the next station, run to the next station, run to the next station (it also helped that there were more water stations this year!). My mind refused to let me stop and walk. Just wanted to go see SSS as quickly as I could. And before I knew it, I was rounding the final corner and heading into the stadium. As I turned into the finishing chute, I saw, just beyond the finish line, SSS. It was all I needed to pick up speed and cross that line. Nailed the second run in 1h06m for a total time of 4h17m. A PB by half an hour.
Finally! Can we go home now???!!!
And I owe it all to having the boys there and to Senn for having to put up with their restlessness. Please forgive her if she wasn't as chatty as usual, she had to put up with my boys' boredom. And that was not an easy task to do. Thank you, baby, for putting up with that so I could go racing. I owe you big time!
In case you haven't figured out what the title of this post means, it means Personal Best at PowerMan thanks to Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel.
Pictures courtesy of Senn.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Fellow Triathlete in Hit and Run
Esmenn Mohd Mokhtar, a local triathlete, was hit by a taxi last night in Cyberjaya. He has a fractured collarbone and some head injuries.
Esmenn is warded at Ward Neuro 4 A2, Hospital Kuala Lumpur. Visiting hours :- 12.20pm-2.30pm and 4.30pm-7.30pm.
It's a dangerous sport we partake in, and unfortunately, sometimes things like this do happen. Please be careful when you're out there guys, especially when riding solo. Be vigilant of your surroundings, take off your ipods so you can hear traffic better and always assume the driver is not going to see you. Also always carry some form of ID and emergency contact number (this reminds me I need to get my RoadID ASAP).
Here's hoping Esmenn recovers soon and is back in top form in no time.
Esmenn is warded at Ward Neuro 4 A2, Hospital Kuala Lumpur. Visiting hours :- 12.20pm-2.30pm and 4.30pm-7.30pm.
It's a dangerous sport we partake in, and unfortunately, sometimes things like this do happen. Please be careful when you're out there guys, especially when riding solo. Be vigilant of your surroundings, take off your ipods so you can hear traffic better and always assume the driver is not going to see you. Also always carry some form of ID and emergency contact number (this reminds me I need to get my RoadID ASAP).
Here's hoping Esmenn recovers soon and is back in top form in no time.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Hill is "Hell" Mis-spelt
The title of this post just about sums up the Newton 25k Challenge. It was all about hills and the hills, yes, they were hellish. Combine it with the heat, then you have one of the toughest events in Malaysia. Frank of Runnerz Circle had already warned us that the usual Bukit Aman - Hartamas loop was just an appetizer compared to the Newton route. Guess I was hoping he was exaggerating a bit. He wasn't!
The run started well enough but within 4k, we hit the first hill. Legs still fresh, the first series of hills were not too bad. And the sun hadn't come up yet.
It was after the 12k mark that hell came. By then the sun was out in full force. It wasn't that the hills were particularly steep (ok, some of them were) but they were just long and relentless. I was beginning to think the 140k ride the day before maybe wasn't such a good idea.
By 18k, I was reduced to walking. Walk up the hills, and try to run down them. At this point I was wishing I had just done the 12k!
With about 3k to go, Emma caught up with me (feels funny saying that since Emma is normally miles ahead, but today she was just having some fun and taking it reeeaaaallly easy) and saw me walking. She kept urging me on, telling me it's all in the head. When she found out it wasn't my injured knee that's making me walk, she said, "C'mon Arif, baby steps." So from there on I mustered up whatever I had left and just followed Emma and Lydia home. Thanks for the encouragement, Emma.
And so I crossed the finish line in 2h47m. One of the toughest races I've ever done. And I was lucky enough to get a medal for my troubles. And a pretty medal it was. Hard-earned too!
Senn did quite well. She did the 12k and finished in about 1h45m. Not too bad for someone who hasn't been running at all!
I must say Uncle Chan loves to inflict pain on athletes. Who else would organise a run in such hilly terrain? It's kind of reminiscent of his Lake Kenyir triathlon. Anyway, it was quite well organised with some lovely freebies.Traffic management could have been better though and the water stations could have been closer together, especially with the heat. But other than that, everything went well. Once again, another good job from Uncle Chan.
From this run, I can see that I still have a long way to go to hit my target in Ironman Western Australia. Bring it on...
The run started well enough but within 4k, we hit the first hill. Legs still fresh, the first series of hills were not too bad. And the sun hadn't come up yet.
When the hills were not a problem... yet.
It was after the 12k mark that hell came. By then the sun was out in full force. It wasn't that the hills were particularly steep (ok, some of them were) but they were just long and relentless. I was beginning to think the 140k ride the day before maybe wasn't such a good idea.
Before hell came!
By 18k, I was reduced to walking. Walk up the hills, and try to run down them. At this point I was wishing I had just done the 12k!
With about 3k to go, Emma caught up with me (feels funny saying that since Emma is normally miles ahead, but today she was just having some fun and taking it reeeaaaallly easy) and saw me walking. She kept urging me on, telling me it's all in the head. When she found out it wasn't my injured knee that's making me walk, she said, "C'mon Arif, baby steps." So from there on I mustered up whatever I had left and just followed Emma and Lydia home. Thanks for the encouragement, Emma.
Almost there!
And so I crossed the finish line in 2h47m. One of the toughest races I've ever done. And I was lucky enough to get a medal for my troubles. And a pretty medal it was. Hard-earned too!
Just glad it's all over!
Senn did quite well. She did the 12k and finished in about 1h45m. Not too bad for someone who hasn't been running at all!
I must say Uncle Chan loves to inflict pain on athletes. Who else would organise a run in such hilly terrain? It's kind of reminiscent of his Lake Kenyir triathlon. Anyway, it was quite well organised with some lovely freebies.Traffic management could have been better though and the water stations could have been closer together, especially with the heat. But other than that, everything went well. Once again, another good job from Uncle Chan.
From this run, I can see that I still have a long way to go to hit my target in Ironman Western Australia. Bring it on...
Pictures courtesy of Emma, Tey and Julie.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Ironman Western Australia Target
I normally don't set specific time goals for any of the races I do. My target has always been to PB or do better than last year. But since this will be the first time in Busselton, there is no benchmark to measure against.
So now I'm going to put it out there, I'm going to set a time goal for IMWA: to finish the race before nightfall. Sunset at Busselton on 5 December is 7:17pm, last light at 7:46pm. The race starts at 5:45am. That gives me 13h32m to finish the race, almost two hours under my best IM race.
Which means I'll need to shave about 10-15 minutes off my best IM swim, an hour off my best IM bike time and an hour off my best run time.
So that's it, it's out there: 13h32m. 13h32m. 13h32m.
Maybe I'll get it. Maybe I won't. But now that it's out there, I have no choice but to work my ass off towards it. Full time Ironman training begins after Raya.
Shit... What did I just get myself into?
So now I'm going to put it out there, I'm going to set a time goal for IMWA: to finish the race before nightfall. Sunset at Busselton on 5 December is 7:17pm, last light at 7:46pm. The race starts at 5:45am. That gives me 13h32m to finish the race, almost two hours under my best IM race.
Which means I'll need to shave about 10-15 minutes off my best IM swim, an hour off my best IM bike time and an hour off my best run time.
So that's it, it's out there: 13h32m. 13h32m. 13h32m.
Maybe I'll get it. Maybe I won't. But now that it's out there, I have no choice but to work my ass off towards it. Full time Ironman training begins after Raya.
Shit... What did I just get myself into?
Monday, August 30, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
I got my mojo back!
I lost my mojo in PD.
During the 2008 PD International Triathlon, on my way to a personal best, I hit a pothole and crashed hard onto the tarmac 1.5km from transition 2. Among the things scattered on the road was my mojo. As i got going again, pushing the bike to transition, I must have left my mojo there.
In 2009, I returned to PD to look for my mojo after a season of dismal results. It wasn't to be. Thanks to a knee injury and some drama that had me driving all the way back to KL and back to PD again in the middle of the night, my mojo was nowhere to be found.
Fast forward to the PD International Triathlon 2010. The search for my mojo continues. A friend said, after screwing up in PD two years in a row, you better do well this year. Talk about added pressure! I was more determined than ever to find that elusive mojo.
But already the dramas had begun. On the way to PD, the airconditioning in the car broke down. Not a big deal really, except that since the aircon runs on the same belt as the water pump, and other vital systems, it made the problem terminal.
As I sat there waiting for the car to be fixed (courtesy of a bunch of mechanics who roam the highway looking for car trouble), I started to wonder whether it was a good idea to race the next day. Could today's incident be a sign of things to come? Will I never find my mojo?
Or is this simply a case of getting all the bad luck out of the way today, so I can have good luck tomorrow?
Four hours and RM800 later, we rolled into PD. At this point, I have to say I was really glad I had Senn with me. She kept calm the whole time and helped keep me from pulling my hair out. She said that whatever I wanted to do the next day, she will support. Thanks, babe, I needed that.
We skipped the carbo load dinner. As much as we wanted to catch up with old friends, the thought of fighting for food with 1200 other triathletes turned us off. So we had a quiet dinner near the apartment and then went to go buy water and breakfast for the next day. On the way, we found a mamak shop that was showing the Tour de France final time trial on TV (earlier I had been fretting about how I was going to catch this). What luck! And while walking back to the car, Senn found a RM10 just lying there on the road. Even more good luck! Maybe I had gotten rid of all bad luck. Maybe my mojo was coming back to me. Maybe I should race tomorrow. Funnily enough, these two good luck incidents happened a few metres for where I crashed two years ago!
So race I did. And I have to say, it was the best race I've ever had.
We got there late so didn't really have time to mingle. Set up transition and headed straight to the start. Managed to take this picture though.
The swim was decent. I was in the battles all the way. Which meant that I was keeping pace with the others. When I had calm water, I thought I had strayed off course. As it turned out, I had dropped the group of swimmers I was battling with and was moving towards the next group for more battles.
Out back onto the beach and only 33 minutes had elapsed. 35 by the time I crossed the timing mat (running on the beach is not easy).
On the bike, I started looking for a train to latch on. For about five or six kilometres I kept looking, then I realised there was a short train behind me! OK, game on. As soon as a faster rider overtook me, I latched on and so did my little train. We went forward, tagging on to the next train in front of us, then the next and the next. Pretty soon, we had a decent sized pack. From then on, It was an easy ride back to transition.
Off the bike in 1:09.
A quick transition and it was off on the run.
My legs felt a little jelly like and I had trouble finding a rhythm. The athletes in the train I was with were starting to drop me one by one. And the side stitches came. I thought this was going to be a tough run. Fortunately, the weather was overcast, so that helped things quite a lot.
3km in, I started to find my rhythm. Stomach cramps were still there but not to severe. I started passing people again. Coming back I saw people who would normally be ahead of me on their way out. That gave me the motivation to push that little bit more.
Crossed the line and my watch said 2 hours and 40 minutes. The run had been done in 52 minutes. A personal best! I was shocked! Elated! Happy!
I had found my mojo.
Photos courtesy of Aileen/Stupe, Yit Thing/Zabrina and Keni K.
During the 2008 PD International Triathlon, on my way to a personal best, I hit a pothole and crashed hard onto the tarmac 1.5km from transition 2. Among the things scattered on the road was my mojo. As i got going again, pushing the bike to transition, I must have left my mojo there.
In 2009, I returned to PD to look for my mojo after a season of dismal results. It wasn't to be. Thanks to a knee injury and some drama that had me driving all the way back to KL and back to PD again in the middle of the night, my mojo was nowhere to be found.
Fast forward to the PD International Triathlon 2010. The search for my mojo continues. A friend said, after screwing up in PD two years in a row, you better do well this year. Talk about added pressure! I was more determined than ever to find that elusive mojo.
But already the dramas had begun. On the way to PD, the airconditioning in the car broke down. Not a big deal really, except that since the aircon runs on the same belt as the water pump, and other vital systems, it made the problem terminal.
As I sat there waiting for the car to be fixed (courtesy of a bunch of mechanics who roam the highway looking for car trouble), I started to wonder whether it was a good idea to race the next day. Could today's incident be a sign of things to come? Will I never find my mojo?
Or is this simply a case of getting all the bad luck out of the way today, so I can have good luck tomorrow?
Four hours and RM800 later, we rolled into PD. At this point, I have to say I was really glad I had Senn with me. She kept calm the whole time and helped keep me from pulling my hair out. She said that whatever I wanted to do the next day, she will support. Thanks, babe, I needed that.
We skipped the carbo load dinner. As much as we wanted to catch up with old friends, the thought of fighting for food with 1200 other triathletes turned us off. So we had a quiet dinner near the apartment and then went to go buy water and breakfast for the next day. On the way, we found a mamak shop that was showing the Tour de France final time trial on TV (earlier I had been fretting about how I was going to catch this). What luck! And while walking back to the car, Senn found a RM10 just lying there on the road. Even more good luck! Maybe I had gotten rid of all bad luck. Maybe my mojo was coming back to me. Maybe I should race tomorrow. Funnily enough, these two good luck incidents happened a few metres for where I crashed two years ago!
So race I did. And I have to say, it was the best race I've ever had.
We got there late so didn't really have time to mingle. Set up transition and headed straight to the start. Managed to take this picture though.
The swim was decent. I was in the battles all the way. Which meant that I was keeping pace with the others. When I had calm water, I thought I had strayed off course. As it turned out, I had dropped the group of swimmers I was battling with and was moving towards the next group for more battles.
Out back onto the beach and only 33 minutes had elapsed. 35 by the time I crossed the timing mat (running on the beach is not easy).
On the bike, I started looking for a train to latch on. For about five or six kilometres I kept looking, then I realised there was a short train behind me! OK, game on. As soon as a faster rider overtook me, I latched on and so did my little train. We went forward, tagging on to the next train in front of us, then the next and the next. Pretty soon, we had a decent sized pack. From then on, It was an easy ride back to transition.
Off the bike in 1:09.
A quick transition and it was off on the run.
My legs felt a little jelly like and I had trouble finding a rhythm. The athletes in the train I was with were starting to drop me one by one. And the side stitches came. I thought this was going to be a tough run. Fortunately, the weather was overcast, so that helped things quite a lot.
3km in, I started to find my rhythm. Stomach cramps were still there but not to severe. I started passing people again. Coming back I saw people who would normally be ahead of me on their way out. That gave me the motivation to push that little bit more.
Crossed the line and my watch said 2 hours and 40 minutes. The run had been done in 52 minutes. A personal best! I was shocked! Elated! Happy!
I had found my mojo.
Photos courtesy of Aileen/Stupe, Yit Thing/Zabrina and Keni K.
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