Showing posts with label Malaysia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Malaysia. Show all posts

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Penang Bridge International Marathon 2012

Unthinkable. That's how I'd describe my PBIM weekend in Penang. The journey from Singapore to Penang itself had been, while not torturous, very long. 10.5 hours by coach, to be exact. Fortunately for me, I was able to catch some sleep until Bagan Serai, the northern part of Perak. Reaching the Sungai Nibong Bus Terminal, after dropping off passengers at Butterworth and Bukit Mertajam, I made my way to the airport to collect my discounted (thanks to a voucher I picked during the Seremban Half Marathon) rental car. Since it was still early, I made a short stop at the snake temple near the airport, a place that I've not visited in decades. I asked the Gods for a safe run. Then, it was time for breakfast. With a GPS in hand, I headed for Balik Pulau in search of the infamous laksa. Just one sip of the sweet and sour broth was all it took to refresh my tired mind and body. After unpacking my bag at the hotel, I walked to Lorong Selamat and risked my life and order a plate of char kway teow from the lady seller wearing safety glasses. I'm happy to report that I was unharmed and the plate of char kway teow, though not my favourite, was really aromatic. Next up, carbo-loading. The nearest and most suitable place for that was Nasi Kandar Kasim along Jalan Gurdwara. Ideally, after a tambah nasi and telui (that's how the northern folks pronounce telur, I think) meal, I should be able to fall asleep rather quickly, but instead, I just rolled in bed, waiting for the hours to pass before the start of the marathon at 2 am.

The first kilometer along Queensbay Mall was difficult to run, as the road was narrow, but after making a turn at the roundabout heading for Eastin Hotel and the Seagate plant, runners began to spread out on the much wider highway. Running in the dark, odd hours in the morning wasn't enjoyable, but that's part of a marathon challenge. No excuses! Just like any 42.195 km race that I've entered, the first 10 kms are more physical - getting the muscles warmed up and keeping a 55-minute lap to ensure a sub-4 hour finish. Here, I exceeded the 55 minutes target slightly and so, I had to run faster at the Penang bridge. That didn't materialise. The 13 kms (one way) bridge has a few taxing inclines, and the toughest climb has to be to the peak of the cabled twin decks. Now, imagine doing that twice. The unpleasant combined smell of chemical emissions from the nearby factories and the sea hit at the start of the bridge route, but reduced gradually towards the main deck. The supply of water by the bottle was rather interesting. It might be a burden for some, but I thought it came in handy, where the excess water can be used to cool off the steaming head on that warm morning. I'd read about some leaving the unfinished bottle on the bridge for other fellow runners. Despite the straight and long (and therefore, boring) route, I felt good and proud running on this iconic Malaysian landmark, which is also the third longest bridge in the world. Looping at the toll plaza marked the completion of the first 21 kms. Next, we ran another 13 kms on the bridge before turning into Georgetown. The final leg, after returning from Georgetown towards Queensbay Mall, was difficult. I didn't hit the wall. And there was no sign of runner's diarrhoea! But my left shoulder started to sore badly and a side stitch bugged me for quite a distance. Also, the elevations were quite erratic. By the 38th km, I was almost certain that I would miss the sub-4 hour finish, but I pushed on. In the last 2 kms, I was joined by runners from the half marathon category as well. It was very congested and I zig-zagged my way through the crowd. I gave my friends who cheered me on at the finish line a thumbs-down, knowing that I'd missed the sub-4 hour finish by a wide 10 minutes.

I didn't feel terrible about my timing though. A little disappointed, yes. I wasn't prepared for a fast, record-breaking finish, having returned from South America just days before the race. A small part of me was also reserving the final push for the next marathon race, which would take place two weeks later.

By 9 am, I'd returned to the hotel. After a shower, I walked to Penang Road to reward myself with a bowl of laksa (of course) and some cendol. It's understandable why these hawkers have been doing brisk business for years now. Absolutely delicious. I checked out at noon and headed to my favourite mee goreng stall at Bangkok Lane. It was as moist, flavourful and red as I'd remembered. To ease digestion before the next round of hawker food, I drove to Armenian Street to see some of Ernest Zacharevic's wall paintings. They were certainly charming. Souvenirs imprinted with these paintings were on sale along the street, which I thought was cool. Then, it was time for more food...well, laksa, I mean. I guess by now, you'd already known my favourite Penang food? My first stop was Kafe Mega Star along Jalan C.Y. Choy. This is not a tourist haunt, which makes it even more attractive to me. The elderly cooks and heavy porcelain bowls were instinctively convincing. I'm not sure what constitutes an authentic bowl of Penang laksa, but if it comes with a sweet, sour but not spicy broth topped with pieces of mackerel and a colourful array of shredded lettuce, onion, cucumber, and pineapple, then it works for me. And I found it here at Mega Star. Next, I drove to Ayer Itam Market, below the Kek Lok Si temple, for a bowl of laksa from the perpetually crowded stall. Thank goodness they allowed customers to eat at the food market across the road, else I'd have to wait for hours to get a chair. The broth here was darker and denser, as compared to the rest that I've tried in the past 48 hours. And definitely good enough to be ranked among the best that I've tried in Penang thus far. I wanted to visit Kek Lok Si but there wasn't much time, since I had some unfinished business to settle back in Georgetown, which was....bagging boxes of tau sar piah from Ghee Hiang, at the only outlet that still had stock for the day! Before leaving for the airport, I made one last convenient stop at New Lane for some curry mee and char kway teow, which were less stellar and more expensive.

Sitting in the plane, I began to recall my time and tummy packed weekend in Penang. And that's when Unthinkable came to mind. My finish time at the PBIM 2012 was not regrettable. In fact, I should thank PBIM 2012 for giving me a chance to rekindle with this tantalizing island, our pearl of the orient that Tan Twan Eng described so beautifully in The Gift Of Rain. And how appropriate and lucky of me to end my trip to this hawker food paradise being seated next to an international streetfood blogger couple in the plane. Hor liao, eh?


Friday, December 21, 2012

River Jungle Marathon 2012

Breaking dawn at Semenyih Dam Reservoir


The run was to start in a few minutes. Chatting with some new friends did calm the nerves a little, but nothing could hide the fact that I came unprepared. I was, at the same time, thankful that I made it to this run, having just returned from China for work. Throughout the trip, I was insistent that I wouldn’t extend my stay there and miss the run. You may say that I was being unprofessional. Well, in the end, the job got done and there I was, standing at SJK (C) Choon Hwa with my hydration bag strapped to my back, ready to experience this boutique marathon run that promised a scenic route around the town of Hulu Langat. The hydration bag wasn’t meant for the River Jungle Marathon but I thought it would be a good study of how my shoulders would react to having constantly loaded with 1.5 liters of water, plus a few energy bars. This exercise was part of the preparation for my next run – the North Face 100 Singapore, a self-sufficient 50 km trail run.

There were no rankings or prizes for this run. Runners were just advised to complete the run within a certain timeframe. So I started slow, keeping a constant pace that didn’t leave me begging for air. Despite the name of the run, runners were running on tarmac, along highways and narrow kampung roads. The highlight of this run was definitely the 300 meters ascend to the peak of Bukit Hantu (Ghost Hill) at the 17th kilometer, spanning 3 km, which a friend described as running up Genting Highlands. And it was really as difficult a climb as she had described.

I began the climb just as the day brightened. Given the altitude and forestry, the roads were cooling and mostly misty. Running through the mist was such a liberating experience that I couldn’t help spread my arms wide as I ran. Runners started walking instead of speeding to the peak. I decided to keep running despite my much slower pace. With every step, I reminded myself not to walk. If I can’t endure this, I will not survive the North Face challenge, I told myself.

Isn’t the view amazing?, asked a fellow runner when I overtook her during the tough climb. Go! Go! It’s just another 1 kilometer to the top!, she added. She must have been a regular RJM participant. That’s one of the countless good memories I had from participating in the RJM. A non-competitive marathon, this is a run for those who really appreciate the joys of long distance running. The organizers did an excellent job in making sure that runners have a good time by providing a beautiful route (especially along the Semenyih Dam Reservoir), sufficient water points, supportive volunteers (one even helped to splash iced water on my head!) and at the 37th kilometer, the mother of all surprises – chilled coconut water! As the sun burnt and tiredness grew, every gulp of the coconut water was blissful.

Rehydrated (but slightly brain-frozen), I pushed on. The final few kilometers, passing through the kampungs, were disastrous. Runner’s diarrhoea had hit again. I’d feared but somehow expected this, given the lack of training during my business trip, causing the bowels to be reactivated during this longer distance run. I wished for some distractions but the roads were just too plain and quiet in the morning. There were times when I was tempted to unload behind the bushes.

The final kilometer was the worst. I was on the verge of, well, explosion. Still, I decided not to walk, but stood still for a good minute, clenching my cold fists while watching a few runners passed me by. I took a few deep breaths and waited for the bowels to relax before starting to run again. Turning to the main road and passing by a morning market, the finish point was now in sight. The bowels started to misbehave again, but this time, instead of stopping, I ran faster and even managed to flash a smile for the camera. Receiving my finisher’s medal and T-shirt, I dashed into the mobile toilet.

Given my lack of training, the undulating terrains, diarrhoea and the dreadful Bukit Hantu climb, I managed to finish my run within the targeted timing. However, at the end of this run, I was still unsure if I was ready for TNF100. But running is an honest sport. To improve is to increase one’s mileage, be it on the road or trail. Instead of getting worried, I knew I had to run longer trails and intensify my core muscles training, in hope that by 13 October, I’d be ready for TNF100 Singapore – my first 50 km run, or what some termed – ultramarathon.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Seremban Half Marathon 2012

There was one more race to go before taking a break in August (the fasting month), when not a major race would be held...except in Singapore. Runners were spoilt for choice in selecting their pre-fasting/resting run in July – the Ipoh International , Feel Good, Men’s Health and Orange runs. And many more across the causeway.

I chose to run the Seremban Half Marathon in July because this is a race that I’ve known for a very long time. Since I started reading the Star, I think. That must have been more than 2 decades ago. Of course, in those inactive years, I’d not shown any interest or perhaps, hadn’t plucked enough courage to sign up for this, or any other run. The SHM was not a redemption run, but it sure felt good standing at the start line that morning on 15 July, albeit 20 years too late.

Running a half (that’s 21 km) after a series of full marathons was comforting, but I had no less respect for the distance this race carried. Training continued right after the Kuala Lumpur Marathon 2012, but I’d decreased my mileage by 30% to suit the race. The body needed some serious recovery as well. I certainly didn’t want to risk busting another ITB or knee.

Besides the run, I thought it would also be fun to rediscover Seremban’s famous eats while I’m in town. That’d make a nice post-race treat too. Honestly, I was more excited studying the route to the Pasar Besar Seremban (for the infamous beef noodles and Hakka mee) than the race course.

The scattering of July runs saw a smaller turnout, especially in the half-marathon category, I overheard while waiting for the Yang Amat Mulia Tunku Naquiyuddin to flag us off. But it was this intimate scale, coupled with the rare pleasure of roaming the quiet town at the break of dawn, that appealed to me. I was looking forward to a fun and fast (I promised to try) race.

There was no special preparation for this race. All I’d planned for was a good pre-race dinner of rice with a few light dishes. I had that at Restoran TC Keong. Serving some good old Chinese stir-fries (loved the steamed pork ribs with dace) in a neighbourhood away from town, I think we’ve found a restaurant locals throng. For supper, I had half a waffle with butter and syrup from the drive-through A&W (a Seremban landmark), and saved the other half for breakfast on race day.

Except for the unending, intermediate climbs around Forest Heights and passing by an old coffee shop named See Fatt, I have not much recollection of the race. I just ran, happy. At some points, especially after the 10th km, I glided at a new fast speed. I was definitely having a good time; the endorphin was at work. It was only during the final few kilometers, when we merged with the massive waves of walking schoolchildren, where we slowed a little to zigzag through this obstacle, that the calves began to pain.

As I entered the final kilometer of this race, a few thoughts ran through my mind; of completing the last race of the season in one piece, how I would spend my resting month, the anticipation of holding the limited edition of finisher’s medal from Royal Selangor Pewter, the gruesome races in the second half of the year and, of course, the awaiting delicious Seremban food. Soon, the sun was up in full force, blessing us with a Vitamin D shower. I was lucky to have crossed the finish line, celebrating a new sub 2-hour personal record, before it started to burn.

Soon after the race, the Pasar Besar Seremban foodcourt was filled with runners, most of them wearing finishers’ tees, especially the 2012 edition of the KL marathon. This busy pasar was quite the obvious choice for runners to refuel after their run because here’s where some of the most famous Seremban hawker stalls are located. While waiting for the legendary beef noodles to be served, I had, firstly, a plate of cuttlefish beehoon that came piping hot and full of wok hei. It was very satisfying. Next, still waiting for the beef noodles, I had Tow Kee’s Hakka mee, which despite its visual modesty, was a toss of well-proportioned egg noodles, minced pork and lard that resulted in a wonderful taste that I believe, can only be achieved through years of experience. The beef noodles finally came...30 minutes later. The gravy wasn’t as sweet and sticky as I’d remembered almost a decade ago. Bordering starchy and almost bland, it was a rather letdown.

A trip to Seremban is never complete (I was being totally touristy, thanks to the runner’s high that lasted the whole afternoon) without packing a few siew bao home. By the way, what’s the English translation for siew bao? Burnt bun? Or baked bun? We bought ours at the very busy Asia Confectionary. And if we had just one more inch-cube of space left in our stomachs, we would have had a bowl of mouse-tail noodle (also more decently called silver needle noodle) at the nearby Yi Poh before leaving this quaint town.

I must confess that it took me 2 months to complete this blog post, not because I had to think hard about its content or direction, but I was just unfocused. When I did get to draft the last few paragraphs about 2 weeks ago, I asked myself if I’d lost interest in blogging and began to re-read some of my other posts (even the earlier, cringing ones). I tried to find, or remember, the passion for blogging that I might have lost before deciding its demise, for good.

Or has it evolved instead?

Well, evolved is a more appropriate word, I think. Evolved applies to the topics that I blog about. Evidently, these days, it’s about running. Is this just a phase? I don’t know. But the journey’s been rewarding so far. More importantly, evolved means I’ve been posting one-liners on Facebook and Instagram, which to me, are similar forms of blogging, only more convenient, instantaneous (pun intended), fun but can also be too frequent, frivolous and forgettable. Here, however, the expression of ideas and thoughts are more expansive, detailed, and therefore, gratifying. Blog posts are to be kept and read over and over again. So, yes, despite the evolution and the pace that it’s going, this blog is staying. And that’s a pretty fine message to celebrate Black Tie White Lie’s 5th anniversary this month.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Standard Chartered Kuala Lumpur Marathon 2012

Will there ever be a perfect marathon race? Hold on. Perhaps I should ask, what IS a perfect marathon race? Prior to SCKLM2012, it’d be, for me, a race that is injury-free, challenging but ends with a new personal best time. It does seem easily achievable but many runners will disagree, I’m sure. In pounding the road for a long distance of 42.195 km, at one point (or more), either the body or mind will or attempts to give up. And usually, it doesn’t take long before the synergy is lost completely, causing the other component to surrender as well. So, perfection is tough. That’s life.

But what if I did run that perfect race? On 24 June 2012, I’d completed the Kuala Lumpur Marathon course of undulating terrains injury-free and even secured my first ever sub 4-hour finish. There’s no denying that I felt triumphant crossing the finish line. To have run that perfect race in my hometown and meeting familiar faces of friends and relatives at the race site made it an even more memorable race. I should be very happy. Yet, I couldn’t shake off a sense of disappointment that felt like a splinter stuck inside the skin.

I thought I’d planned well for this race by consistently keeping a high weekly mileage on the road and even managed to swim a few times. I’m not really interested in swimming, but if cross-training helps to improve my run, then I should do it. More importantly, I’d maintained a light and healthy diet throughout the week. It wasn’t easy, especially on the evening before the race, when the family got together for a feast to celebrate the Rice Dumpling Festival. To avoid another bout of diarrhoea, I’d stuck to steamed potatoes, rice and some lean meat. I managed to sleep for a few hours before waking up at 2 am, feeling rather fresh, to prepare for the race, which would start at 4.30 am at the iconic Dataran Merdeka.

At the race site, I managed to find and greet a few people; including Lyrical Lemongrass and Bald Eagle, Karen and Logan, Jun and Cousin Harry. These meetings of familiar faces added to the joy and comfort of knowing that I was back home again.

I was born and raised in Kuala Lumpur. At 18 years old, I moved to Johor to pursue my tertiary education and began my worklife in Singapore 4 years later. But I do return to KL whenever I can, simply because this is home.

Like the other Standard Chartered-sponsored marathons joined previously, the theme for this race was Run For A Reason. My reason was nowhere noble, just nostalgic. As I signed up for this race in February, I’d already imagined what a fantastic experience it’d be, running along the familiar streets, passing shops and restaurants that I’d frequented in the last 30 over years. I was especially excited about the Jalan Ipoh – Jalan Kuching stretch, from the 28th to 35th km. During those childhood days, this was the route I’d take to go to school, the city center, for suppers…well, everywhere!

Studying the marathon course had me thinking of how KL has transformed in the last 30 years. The skyline, though incomparable with New York or Tokyo, is something that all KLites should be proud of. We’ve certainly progressed. Inevitably, the cost of living has also increased, but to what extent? It’s baffling to learn, through friends, of the daily spending on necessities of an average KLite working in the city against his monthly income. Some described it as barely surviving. Well, it is understandable, and acceptable, if a higher cost of living translates to a better quality of life. But before getting into a deeper discussion on this matter, let’s just, for now, focus on cutting down the ridiculous, increasing number of crimes in KL.

At the start line, some runners were happily chatting away while most kept quiet, seemingly focused on the task ahead. Strangely enough, my eyes were fixed on the clock placed high at the tower of the brightly lit, historic Sultan Abdul Samad Building, instead of my own watch. The excitement grew with each tick. We would be flagged off in a few minutes. A decent finishing time would be fine, I told myself. I wanted nothing more than to enjoy this race down memory lane.

Standing freely at the Dataran that morning, I recalled an article on the electoral reforms rally in April, in which the city hall rejected the assembly to be held at Dataran Merdeka, stating events allowed to be held at Dataran Merdeka are only those of a national level. The city mayor clarified that national sporting events are allowed. Placing sports above a national interest and the future of the country is something that concerns me, really. Where are we heading?

It was still dark when the race began. My body was just warming up, so it took more energy and some pain to move those cold muscles and set the right momentum for the rest of the distance. My accelerations were random and my breathing was heavy. At Jalan Travers, near the LeMeridien, I saw the large green balloon about 100 m ahead of me. It means that I was nearing the 4-hour pacer. Without hesitation, I chased after him. Soon, we turned into Brickfields, descending the first major slope. Usually, I’d slow down, to avoid damaging my knees and shins, but in wanting to keep up with the pacer, I sped. My pace, at that point, was still fluctuating. It was just 3.5 km into the race and I’d begun to feel the stretch. I was not running like my usual self. I’d lost control.

The pacer’s name is Kenny Wong, as I found out after the race. He was running at a very fast pace and trailing him was not easy. Somehow, I had to overtake him. Well, for at least 500 m, to secure a sub 4-hour finish. My breathing remained irregular and a side-stitch revisited. My left shoulder felt sore too. I thought of my old car being driven at 120 km/h and shaking violently. That’s how my body was reacting now. I’d never run this fast in my life. My sole focus was to overtake that floating green balloon tied to Kenny Wong.

At the Lebuhraya Kuala Lumpur water station along the old airport runway, I overtook Kenny Wong while he stopped to rehydrate. And we would overtake one another until the 26th km, passing the Istana Negara, Dewan Bahasa and Pustaka, Jalan Loke Yew, Bukit Bintang, the Petronas Twin Towers, Institut Jantung Negara and the National Library. In this (which now seemed to be) a race against the pacer, I realized that I could actually push much harder than I knew. At the risk of destructing my body, of course.

One of the most enlightening, and torturous, moments of the race took place at the Pavilion row along Jalan Bukit Bintang. I’d never realized that this part of the road was so damn steep! And that’s what makes running so interesting; it gives the everyday driver a whole new (and better) perspective of the same road. Time lost in climbing that incline was compensated by speeding down the slope connecting Jalan Raja Chulan to Jalan P. Ramlee. Years ago, at this very same spot, and perhaps same time as well, I was just leaving for home after a loud nightout at the clubs.

At the 27th km, turning into Jalan Ipoh from Jalan Tun Razak, I began to lose sight of the green balloon. But I didn’t give up. Not when I had only 15 km more to go.

Jalan Ipoh wasn’t as easy to run as I’d hoped for. First, there was that invigorating smell of bak kut teh from Ban Lee, at the time when my fuel tank was almost empty. Then, there were the many, though minor, elevations to tackle. My focus was still on the invisible green balloon. Still running at my fastest pace for a marathon, my quads felt like they were ready to give up very soon. I was prepared to cramp.

Leaving Jalan Ipoh, we made our way to the busy Jalan Kuching. Passing each flyover, I was grateful that I didn’t have to climb them. Linking Jalan Kuching to the Segambut roundabout was a steep incline that, to me, was just an introduction to the biggest, final obstacle of the SCKLM – the double hills of Bukit Tunku. I was glad that I’d done some research on the route prior to the race. Some energy has to be reserved for the double hills. I would have, if I hadn’t crazily trailed the green balloon. At the 36th km, I might have hit the wall. And what a great time to do so, at the most difficult part of the route! I composed myself and ran steadily towards Bukit Tunku.

At the start of the climb, I looked at my watch and did a quick mental calculation of my estimated finish time and average pace. With the green balloon out of sight, I’d still be able to finish the race in less than 4 hours, if I’d kept the pace at 6 mins/km. That’s achievable! So I re-strategized. Instead of wasting my entire, limited energy climbing the hills, I should run relatively slower but consistently, and accelerate when descending the hills, all the way to the finish line at Dataran Merdeka. I just had to keep my pace below 6 mins/km.

The double hills climb left me nearly breathless, while the quads and calves were stretched to the limits. Thank goodness for the generous Salonpas volunteers who treated my legs with their pain-relieving spray. Descending the hills, I couldn’t accelerate as planned. By now, my energy level had depleted completely, almost. I maintained my climbing pace, but kept in mind that it had to be within 6 mins/km.

Running on flat surface again at the 40th km was sheer bliss. Here, merging with the shorter distance runners, despite the congestion, brought much needed livelihood to the rather lonely full marathon course. My shoulder still felt sore. The feet were soaking wet, most probably blistered as well, while the legs begged to rest. But I was very, very close to my first sub 4 hour finish. So what’s another 2 km, right? I imagined this being the last 2 km of my usual, easy night runs and the joy of being closer to returning home to a relaxing cold shower and a sound sleep. 10 minutes of this tranquilizing thought later, and after running for 3 hours and 53 minutes that breezy Sunday morning, I crossed the finish line at Dataran Merdeka.

At the rest tent, I met up with Lyrical Lemongrass, who congratulated me on my new personal record. I remember telling her that I could now die a happy man. Later, I was joined by LeCoupleToy. ToyBoy was there to support his friends and ToyGirl, who ran the 10k race. I left the group to use the toilet. I had a major purge but it came at the most welcoming time – at the end of the race. What a relief!

I left the square and made my way to the Masjid Jamek LRT station. Hunger hasn’t gotten to me yet, which was a surprise. Alone, in the train, I began to recall my SCKLM2012 experience. There were many memorable moments during the race; the cooling rain at the 6th km, passing the uncle at the Sri Dhandayuthapani school bus-stop who continuously cheered on the runners, the adorable little girls and their dad holding up cards of encouraging words like Run like you stole something!! and Chuck Norris never ran a marathon at the Segambut roundabout (or Jalan Ipoh, I forgot) and trailing Kenny Wong, the 4-hour pacer, who spurred me on in the first half of the marathon. These moments, though precious, were not what I’d expected from this race. An initially planned nostalgic relaxed run around my hometown had turned into a draining sub 4-hour run mission. Instead of running at my usual pace along the familiar roads, reminiscing and celebrating the parts of town that had shaped me, I forced myself to accelerate, to catch up with the green balloon and was oblivious to my surrounding. In short, I didn’t enjoy my run.

In a post-mortem on SCKLM2012 with a running friend, I expressed my disappointment in failing to enjoy the race as planned, despite having achieved the previously elusive sub 4-hour marathon finish. For my friend, the result outweighs any form of enjoyment. A race, to her, is a time to run faster and improve the previous personal best record. I do agree, partially. Towards the end of our discussion, I concluded that perhaps a perfect marathon race is not that easily defined. It’s not as simple as running an injury-free race and crossing the finish line with a new record, but to find that equilibrium point where result meets pleasure. How can a runner push himself to the brink of extreme pain and still enjoy the process? Perhaps that point is a vacuum, an empty space. A runner’s nirvana. Or simply, when the body produces enough endorphin to suppress pain and simultaneously create an immense sense of happiness – runner’s high. So, SCKLM2012 was not my perfect marathon race. Will I be able to attain that equilibrium point? I don’t know. But I’m hopeful. Maybe, the answer is just another marathon away.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

The Last and First

4 December 2011 (Standard Chartered Marathon Singapore)

Once again, I’d followed a high, good fats and potassium-rich diet of salmon, avocado and potatoes in preparation for race day.

I was stuck in the human jam along Orchard Road. Under the bright Christmas lights, I was bewildered, frustrated and upset. My pace was negligible. It was painful to look at my stopwatch. Come on, compressing 20,000 marathoners on the compact city roads has got to be a bad idea. And to have just 8 baggage deposit counters was an obvious sign of mismanagement. Still walk-running somewhere between South Bridge Road and Cecil Street (that's 4 km from the starting point), I had a thought that followed me a long, slow distance. Was I missing the point? Shouldn't I be enjoying the run instead of eagerly wanting to better my personal best time for a full marathon? NO! I didn't come untrained. I wanted to hit a new PB. I wanted to cap off this amazing year with a PB. My response made me even more upset. For me, this was the most anticipated run of 2011. After completing the 10 km and 21 km categories in 2009 and 2010 respectively, I'd plucked enough courage to challenge myself to run the marathon distance. The Putrajaya Night Marathon and months of training boosted my confidence further.

The human traffic eased towards the 8th km. So did my mind. Now, I decided, was the time to recover, to compensate for lost time. I began to accelerate.

By the 13th km, I'd entered East Coast Park - the longest stretch (about 20 km) of the full marathon course. Despite the narrow lanes, runners were more dispersed now. The 5-hour pacers were now in sight. I quickened my pace. As I overtook them, I was once again filled with optimism. Earlier disturbances were washed away with the endless flow of sweat. Observing my average pace, I estimated the time needed to reach the 4.30-hour pacers. It wouldn't take too long.

Indeed, I managed to catch up with the pacers and later, overtook them. To achieve a new PB, I must always stay ahead of them until I reach the finish line. As a bonus, the 4:15-hour pacers were not too far in front too!

Besides achieving a PB, I wanted to finish the race injury-free as well. However, I didn't manage to do any pre-race stretching due to the delay at the bag deposit counter. That got me worried. There was nothing that I could do, but to listen to my body with every stride.

At the 34th km, before crossing the bridge to Marina Barrage, I felt a prickle on my right inner thigh (there must be some Latin name for the specific muscle, I'm sure). It's the familiar sensation I get when I do longer runs. Sometimes, it would disappear but unfortunately, on that day, the pain worsened. Who would have thought that a tiny piece of cramped meat like that could affect one's performance? Well, it did. Running, from that point on, felt like driving a car with one locked wheel. I had no choice but to slow down, constantly and rhythmically swinging my right leg to reduce the pain. I gulped two packs of energy gels and had cups of isotonic drinks, hoping to level the amount of potassium in my body, which may (or may not) ease the cramp.

As I was thinking of ways to minimize the pain, I didn't realise that the 4:30-hour pacers had caught up with me. The sight of their bright yellow singlets and grey balloons was unwelcome and alarming. I can't let them overtake me, not at this point. Like a prey running for its life, I pushed on…hard. There was no turning back to check on the pacers or treating the thigh now. I just ran - up the Heartbreak bridge, zig-zagging through the congested Republic Boulevard (I had almost given up there) and struggled through the last 2 km to reach the finish line at the Padang. The pacers reached minutes later.

There was much to be celebrated that morning. Firstly, I'd achieved a new marathon PB by shaving 18 minutes off my previous timing at the Putrajaya Night Marathon. Also, I'd completed all the 10, 21, 42 km categories of the Standard Chartered Marathon Singapore, which begs the question - should I participate again in 2012? My elder cousin, who suffered a major cramp during the race, managed to complete his marathon within the time limit while the younger cousin made his half-marathon debut and finished the equally congested run in a respectable time. Personally, and most importantly, I'd learned to not give excuses. Could I have done better at the SCMS if I had the whole route to myself? I don't know. But I do know that despite being caught in the human traffic, I'd seized every opportunity to catch up, by running faster and smarter. And that's another life lesson learnt....through running.

As I sat on the pavement to rest, I saw many runners, with their finisher's T-shirt in hand, limping their way out of the Padang. I was one of them, of course. It's a funny sight, really.

For me, 2011 was mostly about running (as in the sport, of course). In the last 7 months, I'd done 4 half marathons, 2 King of the Road runs and 2 full marathons. Hey, that's slightly more than 1 official race per month! And that exclude the amount of training poured into improving each run. Ending the last run of the year on a happy note did put me in a cheerful, holiday mood. Two days after the marathon, I visited Beijing. Then, I was back in KL for a week, celebrating Christmas with friends before heading to Ipoh for some really good food. As for the New Year celebration.....


1 January 2012 (Newton New Year Challenge 2012)

This year, I'd observed new year's eve countdown parties being held everywhere in KL; from shopping malls to famous streets to public squares to residential areas! Even the football field in my neighbourhood was used by the current administration to usher in the new year with some stage performances (targeting mainly the older folks), lucky draws and fireworks display. But instead of joining this party (or any other, for that matter), I chose to sleep at 10:00 pm, after a sumptuous pre-race dinner of stir-fried potatoes with pork, fried chicken and ayam masak merah. Understandably, it's unwise to consume oily and spicy food before a race but I was curious to see how my body would react to moderate, not excessive, portions of such food. My friends were unhappy with my decision to sleep early instead of joining them for the countdown. But they've come to terms with my obsession and agreed to celebrate the arrival of 2012 on new year's day instead. And we had a good time enduring a torturous foot massage followed by a dinner of Moroccan lamb shank, among other dishes.

I chose to participate in the Newton Challenge because it's a run that's like no other. And I thought, completing this 25 km course of multiple, erratic elevations would be good motivation to start the brand new year. I’ve read a lot about the Ammah Hills and I still don’t understand the reason behind this moniker. Regardless, this was one steep, fierce mama. Looking at the race map, I was also slightly intimidated by the names of some major points along the route as well, like PUNCAK Jalil and Paragon HEIGHTS. They do sound high. So, the Newton Challenge is not just about conquering the distance, but more significantly, it’s about one’s ability to defy gravity.

Given the distance of 25 km, I didn’t device any special training sessions as I assumed my weekly mileage was sufficient to prepare me for this run, in terms of stamina. As for the elevations, I was just mentally prepared for some tough climbs.

As expected, at midnight, I was awakened by the explosions of fireworks from the football field. But I managed to fall asleep again soon after (surprisingly) and woke up at 3:00 am, all geared up for my first ever new year’s day run. Years ago, this was the time I’d returned home from the clubs.

At the start point, I saw many famous running bloggers and also bumped into my cousin, who took part in the 12 km run. It was as if the whole running community was there! The race started at 5:30 am along the relatively mild (flat) Kinrara Golf Club. A few minutes into the race, my MP3 player died…right after Moves Like Jagger. I didn’t feel right having the mute headphones stuck to my ears and decided to slow down to remove them before resuming my first silent race. But that was okay, really. Throughout the race, I’d seen runners waving and wishing each other a happy new year. I even heard someone saying Gong Hei Fatt Choi. That’s the reason why I like small-scale races like this. They are more intimate and enjoyable.

The first challenge came as we reached the T-junction of Persiaran Puncak Jalil. Turning left, we faced the introductory hill that left many breathless. I also found it a struggle but still launched ahead, body bent forward slightly, with my arms semi-folded, like a praying mantis. I realized that this position works well for me. Ascending one steep slope that measured almost 700 m in length after another was extremely taxing on the heart and legs. At times, I felt my heart was about to pound out of my chest. Runners began distancing from one another. Elites were spearheading at an envious speed, leaving the rest huffing and puffing, wishing the peak was within the next step. I tried to distract myself with trivial thoughts…of Sin Eng Heong’s delicious, crispy kaya puffs and wondering why the streetlights would turn off every time I pass them by. I could still go on, I convinced myself.

Descending the first major hill wasn’t easy too, for me. I didn’t want to switch to free gear, which I assumed would make the next climb more difficult, if I wanted to keep the momentum. I had to control my pace. Returning to the T-junction, we ran straight ahead towards the other direction of the Persiaran, which would ultimately lead us to Puncak Jalil. Here was THE killer slope, which looked frightening, even if one was driving. This was the absolute challenge, I thought. I tried not to look up, and focused on the dividing white lines on the road instead. The killer slope actually consists of a few smaller slopes, which made the climb even more difficult. Reaching the end of the first slope, we had a couple of seconds to catch our breath before continuing to ascend the second slope. And this vicious cycle would continue. After a while, one would lose interest in counting the number of slopes and just wished the race would end soon.

Without the distance markers, runners relied on each other and the traffic marshals for guidance. The marshals were very encouraging. When some runners asked one of the marshals for the distance, the friendly marshal replied, in Cantonese, Aiya, a few kilometers more only. Don’t think too much lah. Just continue to run! I thought that was rather entertaining.

I knew the end was near when I saw the last (and first) Petronas station. The ground was very much flat again, thank goodness. Crossing the finish line, I was still feeling fresh, although the legs were badly stretched, no thanks to Ammah and her children. I didn’t set any goal for this race because there are no other races of the same distance to compare it with. To my understanding, 25 km is a rather unusual distance. But my average pace had improved, in comparison with my best half marathon pace. So, that was an achievement, I thought. Also, I’d completed the course injury-free and without consuming any energy gels.

I lingered around the race site and had a few cups of isotonic drinks and Milo before heading home for a hearty and well-deserved breakfast of fried arrowhead chips and assam laksa. Despite the tough course, I’d enjoyed the race very much.

Many have predicted that 2012 will be a year of slower economy and increased natural disasters. I was also told that the new year would be disastrous for those born under my Chinese zodiac sign. If it’s true, that 2012 will be a struggle as suggested, I hope it’ll still be as fun as the Ammah Hills challenge. Bring it on!


Here’s wishing everyone a happy and healthy 2012.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Fukuharu

A worthy, value-for-money Japanese set lunch. The last time I was impressed by such a deal was back in 2008, when Lyrical Lemongrass, FatBoyBakes and I met for an eight-course kaiseki lunch at Fukuya, Bangsar One. I did find out later that Fukuharu also belongs to the owner(s) of Fukuya. That explains the similar minimalist interior, warm hospitality and affordable, homey Japanese food.

If not for FBB's dive wife (she's an admirable runner too), who'd highly recommended the set lunch, I wouldn't have travelled the distance to come to the TERRACE, given how horrendous the traffic can be like along Jalan Ampang. But more importantly, I wanted to catch up with her and share my recent running experiences.

After a run earlier in the morning, I was certain that one set lunch (Japanese, especially) wouldn't be enough for me. But I was assured that the portions here are huge. The dishes rolled out one after another, starting with the salad, chawan mushi, choice of main dish (I chose the saba shioyaki, or grilled mackerel sprinkled with salt) and a bowl of hot soba (one can choose rice instead). The selection was J-typical but the ingredients remained fresh. Especially at only RM38+, there was nothing left to complain about, really. But of course, the stomach was only half filled, at best. But that's not their fault.

Somewhere between deploring the erratic slopes along the Putrajaya Night Marathon route and planning for the insane Western State 100 Mile Endurance Run (it will not materialise, believe me), we were served the mini kaiseki appetizer platter, which I'd absolutely forgotten. It was surprisingly a plateful. And of relatively good quality too. Among others, the salmon sashimi slices (and cubes - with a wafu-style dressing and served in a shot glass) were considerably fresh, the riceball-coated deep-fried prawn came à la minute crispy and there was even a cut of well-seasoned roast duck. Now that's what I call worthy.

Our fervent discussion on running went on for some time (covering Asics/Saucony shoes versus the world, introversion of runners, strategic locations to hide hydration bottles while running, etc), paused only for dessert (part of the set). It was a simple, flavourful scoop of vanilla ice cream, interestingly drizzled with black sesame sauce.

Fukuharu brought back good memories of Fukuya at Bangsar One. Both restaurants offer unbeatable set lunches in a relaxed setting. Personally, I think that this is a better option for a weekend gathering of few friends than to splurge on a chic restaurant where just the appetizer of colourful foams and a deconstructed iced lemon tea cost more this set lunch.

Fukuharu
TERRACE at Hock Choon
241-B, Lorong Nibong off Jalan Ampang
50450 Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Yut Kee, finally.

Dad said that he used to despatch chicken to Yut Kee from his employer's stall in the old Central Market. He would get a free meal every time he's there. People were more sincerely generous in the old days, weren't they? According to dad, the pork chop and egg roll were really good. All these years, he had never mentioned about Yut Kee (and I never asked why), until I suggested that we have lunch there a month ago. I took the family to Yut Kee a week after my first visit with a couple of friends. Having learnt that the best time to avoid is around the lunch hours, we took a slow ride to reach at 2 pm. Surprisingly, the famous pork belly roll was still available. What luck!

It's a very typical coffee shop but while many would see a more slowed and relaxed tea time, Yut Kee was still very much a high speed production line, churning out dish after dish. Despite the overflowing crowd waiting at the shop's front, I thought they operated efficiently; from allocation of seats to taking orders to the payment process. This system (which seems intuitive but nonetheless requires sufficient manpower and good coordination to work) that they've adopted shortens the waiting time significantly and puts the customers at ease. It's a major plus, really. I can't remember how many times I'd sworn that I'd be damned if I had to revisit some badly managed but prideful eateries in town.

As we sat down, Dad began observing the surrounding, obviously looking for familiar faces but couldn't recognize anyone. He said the workforce had been replaced by, perhaps the next generation. There were four of us at the table, with eight dishes to share; including the westernized roast pork belly, which I thought was very good. It's all in bite - the crispy crackling, the aroma of lard melt bursting in the mouth and a nutty taste of the filling. The apple sauce gave an interesting sweetness to the salty meat. Of course, when one's at Yut Kee for the first time, one has to try the perennial favourites such as roti babi, Hailam mee and belacan fried rice. I didn't think much of the roti babi filling (which could do with more filling and seasoning) but the soft, encapsulating bread coated with a thin layer of egg was nice. I thought the roti was skillfully prepared. The taste is to be enhanced with a dip of the Worcestershire sauce.

On this second visit, I'd decided to try other less popular dishes on the board. Less because they were not seen on every table, unlike the roti babi and pork chop. I'd ordered the beef noodles served with a generous amount of meat and tripe, soft radish and a clear stock, and the Cantonese-style fried noodles with enough wok hei to keep me intoxicated and happy.

Let's talk a bit about the all-time favourite pork chop. The first bite unravelled a well-marinated piece of tenderized pork. The construction was traditional. From my (limited) pork chop experiences, the brown sauce is usually mild, bordering tasteless, even. That's not the case at Yut Kee though. The caramelized gravy was rich and flavourful, and went really well with the otherwise bland potato wedges and assorted boiled vegetables. Oh, not to forget a sprinkling of the appetizing Worcestershire sauce too. However, Dad did mention that the pork used to be crispier, but perhaps due to higher demand, were pre-cooked, hence the softness.

Growing up, I was privileged enough to have eaten quite a fair amount of Hainanese noodles cooked by an aunt of mine. It's quiet different from my usual Cantonese and Hokkien mee with the noodles simmered over a longer duration and served soupy but less starchy than loh mee. Yut Kee's Hailam mee was different. The soup was reduced to an almost stir-fried consistency. Still, it was a tasty treat, especially when eaten with the topping of some fragrant, crunchy fried shallots.

The extensive menu at Yut Kee is posted on a larger than life whiteboard hung on the sidewall. So far, I've only tried a small fraction of it. For me, every visit is to try something new, and to discover something old but gold as well. Here, especially when dining alone or in a small group, chances are that one would be sharing a table with older loyal customers that are happy to share their tales of Yut Kee or recommend some dishes. Tourists also flock this coffee shop, which I think is a good choice. It's definitely a more identifiable Malaysian experience. Truly Asia what?

I didn't ask Dad what he thought of today's Yut Kee. He seemed pleased though, whopping one dish after another. Perhaps for him, there was a taste of nostalgia in the food too.

Take away the hype, the rustic interior (which is one of the attractions of this coffee shop) and endless free publicity, I will still be back at Yut Kee, simply because the food is good and affordable (especially in this part of the city). Not many good old coffee shops like this survive the test of time so I really hope that they'll stay for long time. And I'm confident of that, unless of course, there's a forced, unwise plan to demolish this row of shophouses in the name of development.

Yut Kee
35, Jalan Dang Wangi
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Monday, October 24, 2011

Putrajaya Night Marathon 2011

MAKE THAT CHANGE is an online reality show (there must be a more appropriate word than show) held in conjunction with the recent Putrajaya Night Marathon. Every runner participating in this programme aims to win the prize money to make a difference in someone's life. The runner who garners the most support for his/her cause, as quantified by the highest number of online votes, will walk away with RM6000.

Grace Tabitha Lim Clark ran in hope to win RM6000 to help manage the medical expenses of her friend who is suffering from lupus; a cannibalistic, autoimmune disease that attacks, among others, the lungs, kidneys, blood and brain. Grace herself is suffering from a similar disease. Jiana Jimain joined the race for her orphan friend who has cancer, in stage 4 now. The effect of chemotherapy has deprived her friend the chance of attending the convocation for her diploma. Despite the hardship, she continues to pursue her degree and Jiana hoped that the prize money would assist in settling her medical and study fees. By winning the RM6000, Christine Lim would be able to fund her friend Jet, an aspiring business coach, to enroll in a course in Singapore, which would enable him to improve his skills and use them to guide others in achieving their goals. Karen Loh and Yim are two celebrity runners. I've read a lot about them in the local running blogs. They participated in this programme to contribute to the development of the Orang Asli's welfare. Both Karen and Yim ran the full marathon. Prior to that, they'd completed the 100 km North Face duo (each ran 50 km) challenge in Singapore, an ultra endurance trail race, in the morning, before returning to Malaysia for the night marathon. You can say that they've each run almost 100 km in one day. I have great respect for all of them.

Everyone has a reason to run. Mine's frivolous, almost selfish, as compared to these runners. I just wanted to have a full marathon practice before the Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon in December. This, the Putrajaya Night Marathon 2011, was my first attempt at 42.195 km.

I did what I could to train for this race. I was inspired by Haruki Murakami, one of my favourite authors. Like him, I would run 10 km almost daily and sometimes more, but never less. After a few weeks, I increased my mileage to around 14 km per run. I started picking up running tips from the internet and friends. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I was so engrossed in something. Especially after a hard day's work, training seems like a chore. Most of the time, really! But when I step out and start pounding the pavement, there's a sense of rejuvenation and that's always exciting. I have my favourite routes. The best (and most torturous) are those are lined with restaurants, where the roads are filled with delicious aromas of Chinese stir-fries and smoking barbecued meat. At a certain time, I would pass by a construction site and be greeted by an invigorating smell of curry cooked by the foreign workers. I bet the curry tastes as good as it smells. These days, I listen to simple, relaxing tunes on the radio as I run. Upbeat songs are for shorter distances, like 10 km. I tried listening to symphonies too (totally dig Bach's Air) but unfamiliar concertos in all sorts of majors and minors make the runs uncomfortable. And I would lose pace. So, sing-a-long ballads work for me, for now.

The night marathon was to be flagged off at 8.00 pm that Saturday. I came early, as I always do for every run, to check out the facilities. There's not been an affinity between me and this administrative city but I must say it looked stunning. I imagined the night scene, filled with colourful lights as I cross the finish line in front of the Palace of Justice (if I finish, that is). The weather was cooling, thanks to a shower a few hours ago. After applying the usual anti-chaffing gel, talcum powder and blister patches, I had a few sips of water, stretched and walked to the starting line.

In the first 10 km, many runners, young and old, overtook me but that's fine. A marathon is about consistency. There's still an awful distance of 32 km ahead, so it's good to start slow and steady. I was happy to have stayed within my targeted pace. By the way, the cut off time for this marathon is 6 hours. I'd hoped to finish within this period. Of course, a sub 5 hours will be sweet.

21 km. The half marathon distance. And the farthest that I've run in my life so far. Some resorted to walking by now. I lost count of the slopes. There must have been 5 or 6. The atrocious inclines had greatly impeded my pace. But that's just part of the test. Or fun, some might say. Just take a deep breath, loosen your hands, bend forward slightly and launch ahead with a smile. The street performers, traffic marshals and cheerleaders helped to ease the pain. Thank you!

22 km. I had to be careful and listen to my body more from this point onwards. As my body was facing a new, longer, unknown distance, I wouldn't know how it would react. Maybe my legs would cramp. Or I might just have the dreaded runner's diarrhea. Worse, the old painful side stitches would return to kill me. I switched on my MP3 player for some distraction.

During the training months, I had to pay special attention to my diet. It's not as serious as it sounds, really. I just had to eat more regularly and carbo-load myself before each evening run. Tea breaks in the office would be my dinner. To chomp down a big plate of fried meehoon and kway teow with eggs (or radish cake, occasionally) and sambal while all your colleagues sip a tiny paper cup of coffee did feel odd. Running tonight, eh?, they'd ask. During the last 3 days of the tapering week before this marathon, I thought about consuming more good fats for fueling and protein to build muscles. Salmon and avocado sprang to mind instantly. I made some sort of guacamole as a dressing for my salmon flakes, which I'd cooked with lots of onions and garlic. This was the filling for my sandwich. Sides were simply some lettuces, tomatoes and 2 eggs. A few hours before the night marathon, we had a family dinner...that's at 3 pm! At my request, mum had prepared a delicious potato and pork stew, and steamed pomfret to go with rice. I had specifically wanted potatoes for its carbohydrate, sodium and potassium. It was one nutrients-packed and filling dinner!

25 km. My pace was still decent. My legs felt lighter. I was excited and anxious at the same time. Soon, I would cross the 30th km. For many, this is the point when they hit the wall because the amount of carbohydrate, in form of glycogen, stored in the body depletes almost completely. Fats will then be the main source of energy. And fat burning causes fatigue. It would feel like running with bricks tied to the feet. More had stopped running and walked from this point onwards. The next rehydration point was not far ahead. I tore my first pack of PowerGel (strawberry and banana flavour) and slided it down my throat as I continued to run....in anticipation of the wall.

The expressways were hazy at certain points. Humidity was high, but that's to be expected in a night marathon. Since sponges are not offered at every rehydration point, I had kept one in hand and dipped it into the cups before squeezing it on my head. Especially when the water was cold, this was very refreshing.

31 km. Runners were more distant from one another now. I could only see 2 runners in front of me. I didn't want turn behind to check. It's not important. To my surprise, I'd overtaken at least 10 runners in the last 6 km. My breathing was still slow and regulated, so that's a good sign. I told myself that the training had somehow yielded some positive results. My legs were even lighter now.

I didn't know if the lightness was an early sign of cramps, so I was slightly worried. I did learn that cramps can be prevented (or at least minimized) by hydrating oneself with water, to dilute the amount of lactic acid produced. At the same time, the body also needs to maintain a healthy level of minerals such as sodium, so isotonic drinks are essential. At every hydration point after the 10th km, I would take 2 cups of water and 100 Plus each. It may sound too much for seasoned runners but I'd rather bloat than cramp. The organizers had also prepared bananas (peeled!) and watermelon, which was very thoughtful of them.

When I saw the Falun Dafa band, I knew we'd looped and that the finish line was not too far away. Thank goodness the second half of the route was relatively kinder and not as erratic as the first. Pain had kicked in. It's a sign that the body has started to complain. I slowed down a little but trudged on. I began to lose interest in the distance. Instead, I concentrated on finishing the race.

Running is a lonely sport, which may be the reason why I enjoy it so much, especially at night. We all pace differently. No two runners will finish at the same time. So, no matter how many friends you run with, at one point, you will find yourself running alone. That's life.

The last few rehydration points seemed deserted. Many elite runners had passed these stations long ago. The remaining cups were still filled with water and isotonic drinks. I had the whole table to myself. Great! Just when I thought that things would be fine, that I'd have a smooth run to the finish line, I saw a steep slope ahead. There were two more behind it.

It's precisely because of this pain, precisely because we want to overcome that pain, that we can get the feeling, through this process, of really being alive - or at least a partial sense of it. Haruki Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.

As I descended the last slope, my watch showed 4:20. I still had approximately 2.5 km to go. A small part of me was disappointed. I had, secretly, hoped for a 4:30 finish. With my current pace, this was definitely unachievable. But a sub 5 finish was guaranteed.

To reach the finish line, runners have to make a full turn from Lebuh Sentosa to the main road that leads directly to the Palace of Justice. This was the final and longest km. Here, the atmosphere was not as energetic as before. The cheerleaders and performers were gone now. But each step was greeted by cheers from those who stayed. It felt good, although the body was starting to hurt again. I dashed towards the finish line, hoping the electronic counter would freeze.

There was no outpour of emotion, no kissing the ground, no out of body experience and no high jumps as I crossed the finish line. I don't know if I'd underacted on my part, but I was thankful to have completed my first marathon injury-free. The official congratulated me as she hung the finisher's medal on my neck. This was followed by more congratulations when I received the snack pack, water and finisher's t-shirt. Thank you, officials.

I walked away from the crowd and sat, for the first time since 6 pm, on the curb. Now, my legs felt really heavy. I called a few friends for drinks at our usual Mamak stall at Hartamas and dragged my heavy body to the car.

The simple, primitive act of running has nurtured me. I've become more tolerant, more patient, and more giving than I ever thought I could be....This is what running has taught me, making me-I hope-a better man. Dean Karnazes, Ultramarathon Man.

They say that running a marathon is a life-changing experience. To a certain extent, I think it's true. For me, it's not solely about completing a 42.195 km race but more importantly, the preparation that has been put in until the start of the race. Throughout the training, despite having to sacrifice a part of my social life, I'd understood myself better, both physically and mentally.

This post serves as a reminder to myself, that nothing's easy in life. But if you respect the distance and make enough effort to overcome the challenge, the reward, be it in any form, is often, almost assured.

Thanks FC, for your guidance, the miraculous anti-chaffing gel and Dean Karnazes' Ultramarathon Man. And to S, the speedy litigator, thanks for sharing your inspiring running experiences.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Restoran O & S

Since the last post, I've been running (what's new, HairyBerry?) and more importantly, training for a few races in the coming months. I've progressively increased my mileage and discovered some new running routes around the neighbourhood. The cool evening breeze during this rainy season has been a great motivator too.

September and October mark the most auspicious period for Chinese couples to tie the knot. Besides the wedding invitation, I was also roped into becoming a best man, performer and emcee for a good friend's wedding just two weeks ago. Stressful, well, a bit. And that's because I had to memorise a Bublé number, which was something new to me. But it was really good meeting my primary and secondary school classmates there.

So, despite the inactivity here, no, I'm not dead. In fact, I've never felt more alive.

At the recent pool party, Sushi said that I'm now 1/3 of my previous size. Some friends and colleagues even asked if I've contracted any fatal disease that has caused the shrinkage. Definitely not. I'm just running longer and farther.

Therefore, I need to eat a lot too, to refuel. Weekdays are pretty much the same - bread, fried noodles, soups, savoury cakes, cookies, fruits and a few cups of good old Milo. I look forward to the weekends, usually after a Saturday morning run, when I would spend time catching up with family and friends over brunch. Big brunches, mostly. There was nothing atas about these eateries but that's cool. These are some of the most common hawker centers and coffee shops in KL that serve good food. I'm excited to blog about them all.

For a start, there's Restoran O&S. The main reason that has kept me away from this coffee shop is the crowd. But this time, the parents insisted on revisiting. Arriving at the unGodly late hour of 10 am (because I had to complete my weekend run earlier), I thought we'd have to shed blood and tears to secure a table. Well, we did have to wait but the patrons have been very considerate. They would leave after finishing their meal and not stay put to chat. Or was I just plain lucky that Saturday?

I had to try the infamous assam laksa. Beneath the golden broth were chunks of mackerel and that, to me, was worth waiting for. The more expensive versions served at the local coffee chains don't come close to offering this much of meat, really. I was expecting intense sourness but it turned out rather sweet, perhaps due to the generous loading of ripe pineapple. I like mine sour and hot, but that's just me. We've also had, among others; popiah, beef noodles and char kway teow. Nothing mind-blowing, but they were all good.

Perhaps quality is more definitive, as compared to good. The ingredients used were fresh, the portions seemed consistent and reasonable, and most of all, tasty. The sellers were very friendly too. For less than RM10 (or RM5, even), what more can you ask for these days?

I'd observed other stalls at O&S that had also attracted a stream of patient customers. The food must be good. Hmmm, looks like I'll have to return to try them all. And to beat the crowd, I guess I'll just have to run earlier...or faster.

Restoran O & S
1, Jalan 20/14
Paramound Garden
Petaling Jaya, Selangor.

Friday, September 16, 2011

The Long DUO Weekend

This time, I knew the words to most of his new songs and sang along happily. That's a Chinese pop concert for you. It's an extended karaoke session that I usually think twice before attending since I can do the same in a private room (with 2 drinks) for less than RM30. But how can one say no to Eason Chan's concert? Call me a conservative but I do feel that the Cantopop scene is declining to a stage where voices are faint, some forced and mostly indistinguishable. The catchy melodies and profound lyrics (well, sometimes) stay but often tailored, these are not representative of the quality of the singer. Eason's gifted voice is one of the very few that I still listen to ardently. He started strong that Saturday night at Stadium Merdeka with 今天等我来, a befitting opening number, which we thought was a new song. In fact, it was sort of a B-side from his early days. I'm definitely attempting this at K next time! There were a few covers that night too, like 好歌獻給你, 寂寞夜晚 and 破曉, which may be unfamiliar to the younger crowd. He did include a few of my personal favourites into the repertoire like 落花流水 and 裙下之臣 BUT where are the other hits like 葡萄成熟时, 大開眼戒, 不来也不去, 岁月如歌, Shall We Talk, 十面埋伏, 淘汰, 於心有愧, 七百年後 and K歌之王? The banters could have been shortened to make way for more of these songs. The atmosphere, despite the humidity, was great throughout the 25 songs set. The KL crowd, to me, has always been enthusiastic, responsive and supportive. The singers themselves acknowledged this as well. Honestly, I was expecting a 3-hour concert packed with more than 30 songs but I forgot that this was not a Jacky Cheung show. So, I left the stadium slightly disappointed. The company of old schoolmates made up for that. To think that we first heard Eason when we sat for our SPM examination. We've definitely come a long way. Maybe I should now stop laughing at my elders who travel to the Arena of Stars in Genting to watch their favourite singers from the 70s perform.

The concert marked the beginning of my long weekend in KL since the lunar new year. There was no preplanned eat list but that turned out fine. For a change, we lunched at Dubrovnik (finally) and found the recommended dishes, mostly dairy products-based, commendable. And for a change to that change, it was Klang bak kut teh for breakfast at Hock Kien, Bandar Manjalara. The famous braised claypot pork belly, to me, could have been more harmonized a dish. The ingredients seemed unevenly proportioned. The aroma of the sesame oil was strong, that's good. But the soy sauce based reduction was bland with some flavours clearly lacking, like ginger, cinnamon and peppercorn. On the positive side, the pork ribs served in the claypot bak kut teh were succulent and huge.

Of all the food that I'd tried over the long weekend, it was the wan tan mee from an obscure 壹记 at Taman Usahawan Kepong that had been most remarkable. The influx of customers was not high that Monday afternoon, which was good. Well, for us at least. 壹记 serves handmade, whole-egg noodles with a couple of toppings to choose from. The simplicity of their menu may not be attractive to many but they've done well with the noodles being refined, springy and without a hint of lye. For getting the fundamentals right, 壹记 deserves a revisit.

What's homecoming without a homecooked meal, right? I had a couple of those, including a large plate of steamed yam cake for tea, prepared by mum. Always generous, she filled the yam cake with a copious amount of steamed yam cubes that gave each cut a nice bite. The cake itself tasted rather plain, so a sprinkling of chopped waxed sausages provided some sweetness and colour. It's incomplete without a dollop of mum's dried shrimp chilli paste. It's a basic, versatile condiment that can be used to cook curry, sambal for nasi lemak, etc. For the yam cake, she added more salt and doubled the chilli. Let's see, I might have consumed more of the chilli paste than the yam cake.

Over the long weekend, I'd also experienced a pleasant, almost seamless passport renewal process at the immigration department in KL. And in between food and meetings with friends, I managed to hit a good running mileage. At the end of this short getaway, I felt recharged. What a difference a day makes, eh? I'm beginning to understand the lament of most employees now....YES, I do need more leave days!

壹记
74, Jalan Metro Perdana Barat 3
Taman Usahawan Kepong
52100 Kuala Lumpur

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Snowflake

The Japan! Combo. I don’t know why I like it so much. Or how did I end up choosing this over the bestseller - taroballs with whatever. Or what the heck was I doing in a shaved ice dessert shop in the first place? I don’t know. But I really like it. Maybe it’s the soy ice crush. Soy milk is one of my favourite drinks - warm, iced or frozen. Or maybe it’s the chewy green tea balls. Or the slight bitter aftertaste and artificial chlorophyll scent that work wonders with sweetened soy milk. Like Starbucks’ costly, classy soy milk green tea latte - my only choice there. I don’t know. It just tastes good. I have a loyalty card, by the way. The words Dessert Lover Club fill 1/3 of the card. Sickening, I know. And I'm just five stamps away from redeeming any item from the menu. But the Japan! Combo is no longer listed on their website. Instead, a new monthly special has been introduced. Sesame Sensation. Peanut ice with sesame balls. Great, just great.

http://snowflake.com.my/

Friday, June 10, 2011

Nasi Lemak at Medan Selera 223 (among other things)

Domestication, albeit reluctantly, has reminded me of how expensive groceries are these days. Every cent counts, really. But I'm determined to only lose old habits, not interests, with my now frugal financial management system - something that I'd learnt from some multinational corporations. It's doomed to fail but I guess it'll be a good learning curve.

Frugality has led me to shop at discounted gift certificate or coupon websites. Most, if not all, of the products and services offered are of a leisurely nature than necessity. And I’ve been a stalker cum customer for a month now. Hear me being foolishly paradoxical here.

One of the coupons that I'd redeemed was for a few hair treatment sessions. My friends and relatives can attest to my evident hair loss problem and I must say, are more concerned than myself. With a significant, shocking discount, I thought it’s worth a try. Miraculous treatment or not, at the very least, I'll be able to get a diagnosis from the package, I thought.

Session 1 was a psychological war field in the consultation room. I understood the severity of my receding hairline from the scans and their explanation but to inject every consolation and solution with a special, promising treatment and its obvious advantages was too much to bear. These customized treatments are not cheap. I bargained hard, just to know their cheapest offer. Throughout the process, I've been approached by two very persistent consultants. Their marketing skills were good, no doubt. One empathetic-looking consultant said it's a pity if I continue to neglect my oily scalp and start balding at such (flipped and studied my customer profile) a young age. I must admit that I was slightly, just slightly sold at that point. Regained sensibility, I reminded myself that I came to redeem my coupon, got a diagnosis and understood my situation, unconvinced of the procedures and therefore, unwilling to pay the exorbitant amount. That's that. They'd done their best and I tried to be understanding. For courtesy sake, I'd informed them that I can't make a decision at that point as I won't be available for treatment due to my tight travelling schedule. And that I'll return when I can afford the time. They restrategized. Apparently, I can even be treated abroad as well - by purchasing their DIY treatment kits. There were many, many points worth debating there including the effectiveness of DIY kits versus in-house treatments and the content of the kit. But they are running a business and it's only right for them to sell. Unfortunately for them, I wasn’t convinced.

In the 1.5 hours of Session 1, I wondered if appearance should hold such importance in one's life. And if it's worth the cost. I'd only say yes if it's related to one's profession or that it affects one's health condition. Why bother when my family, good friends and (ex) girlfriends have been accepting of my different shapes, sizes and looks throughout the years? No one seems to think less of famous figures like Bruce Willis, Prince William and Vladimir Putin just because they are balding, right? With my head wrapped under the steamer, I felt ashamed. But at least I now know that my scalp's ridiculously oily. So, I should perhaps wash my hair 21 times a week to unclog and prevent more blockages.

Speaking of good friends (I've digressed too far and wide in this post, haven’t I?), we were at Medan Selera 223, another uncharted territory for me, much like the hair treatment center. At night, it’s a busy and crowded al fresco foodcourt that tests one’s vigilance in securing a seat. Reward comes in small packs of nasi lemak with savoury, mildly spicy sambal that’s best smoothened and flavoured with a couple of soft-boiled eggs. And there’s the list of usual beverages like teh tarik and Horlicks to keep the conversations going. Here, affordability means that it’s able to attract people from all walks of life. Regardless of the buckets of dripping sweat (it’s quite hot and humid here), worn out clothes AND receding hairline, everyone’s having a good time. And that’s all that matters, isn’t it?


Medan Selera 223
Jalan 223,
Petaling Jaya
Selangor, Malaysia

Friday, May 27, 2011

Kafe An Nasuha Beverages

The Masjid India vicinity is especially stark and quiet pass the midnight hour. It’s the absolute contrast to the thriving, colourful daytime when mercantile activities are in full swing. I felt like an abductee, blindfold removed as I was led to a strip of old shoplots along Lorong Bunus 1, after crossing a few dark lanes. Here, it was bright and lively. Who would have thought? A few Mamak (Indian-Muslim) restaurants were hiving, particularly one with stools and tables spilt to the adjacent units. That’s where we ate.

We found a communal table and shared it with a few others that seemed hurried. It’s not strange, but a courteous act as they observed the influx that increased by the minute. Naturally, we followed suit.

There’s no need for any recommendation when every table is piled with the same servings of roti banjir spesial and pre-packed pyramidal nasi lemak.

One can probably find similar, rather mechanical food at any Mamak stall across the city but sipping teh halia or masala tea and downing chunks of fried bread drenched in dhal curry with sambal and runny eggs by the Klang River in a historical quarter...now that's something special. And that's why we keep coming back to An Nasuha.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Hokkien Mee Me!

Back in the 80s, there was a TV commercial selling cornflakes that I thought was misleading. Well, to me, at least. It started off by comparing a young kid’s reaction to two types of breakfast. On the right (yes, I even remember the layout!), he had a bowl of cornflakes and looked really happy. On the left, he was served some dark, fried noodles that resembled very much like Hokkien Mee. And guess what, he looked terribly disappointed. Every time that commercial was aired, I’d say (to the TV screen), ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? I’m not against those tiny golden crisps fortified with dozens of nutrients but if the marketer decides to force supremacy against Hokkien Mee (or any stir-fried noodle, for that matter), it gets personal.

My affection towards this calorific, deathly dish is obvious, if you’d read my previous Hokkien Mee posts. Time and again, I'd mentioned that in the last decade or so, I’d never been wholeheartedly satisfied, even with some of the more established stalls in KL/Selangor. I was told that perhaps my ideal Hokkien Mee had never existed, that it’s all in an idea of perfection that I’m indulging. Definitely not. I remember how it tasted back in the older days – a savoury stock and slightly sweet dark soy sauce reduction done to a sticky consistency, coating every strand of thick egg noodle, sprinkled with the quintessential dried, pounded flounder, glistened and aromatized with a layer of hot lard oil. Sometimes, there's the additional fried shallot oil too. Let’s not forget a sharp, pungent cili boh/belacan dip that cuts through the sweet/savoury reduction, adding a new dimension to already exciting taste. Jaded that I am, with my ceasing torch, I continue to find that taste, good taste, long lost.

On an accidental night after a light shower, a few of us old kids decided to finally visit the two infamous Hokkien Mee stalls, located at the opposing ends of a stretch along Jalan 222, Section 14 in Petaling Jaya. Both were equipped with fast-paced and knowledgeable, mostly foreign staff. Ahwa’s version had a matte finish – an emphasis on dark soy sauce that ensued a sweeter aftertaste. What lacked, I thought, was the compulsory aroma (wok hei) of hot lard oil. Hence the missing shine as well. Peng Yuan, on the other hand, was glossy and aromatic. The sauce was less reduced and leaned towards the savoury side. Despite the loose consistency of the sauce, as a fan of all things savoury, I’d personally liked Peng Yuan’s more.

Ahwa's Hokkien Mee

Ahwa's What-Darn-Whore

So far in this blog, I’ve rambled too much about Hokkien Mee but not so on the other definitive Chinese noodle dish, Cantonese-style. I must say that I’m a big fan of its more popular variant - the (90% phonetically correct) what-darn-whore or thick rice flour noodles (whore fun) topped with an egg-starch sauce. The browning of whore fun is important to provide wok hei and separate the stacked strands. Ahwa did a good job at that. Their assembly with a smooth, sufficiently gelatinous egg-starch topping sealed the deal for me. I would have been more enthusiastic about Peng Yuan’s version if not for finding a broken toothpick (let’s hope it was unused) in the sauce.

Peng Yuan's Hokkien Mee

Peng Yuan's What-Darn-Whore

On a different occasion, the old kids decided to explore Sunway Giza on a Saturday night. The main complex didn’t excite us much but the young and fashionable seem to enjoy thronging here on weekends. Nearby, at an extended shoplot, we found a branch of yet another infamous Hokkien Mee institution, Restoran Damansara. This one offers a menu and additional fried lard bits. Perhaps due to an overwhelming amount of oil insulating the sauce and noodles, it turned out rather bland. But the shine and colour did look sinfully appetizing though. The Cantonese version fared better with a crispy web of fried rice vermicelli (bee hoon) and whore fun soaked in a subtlely flavoured egg sauce.

Restoran Damansara's Hokkien Mee

Restoran Damansara's Cantonese Stir-Fried Ying Yang Noodles

There are a few Hokkien Mee stalls left on our list but to be honest, I’m not too optimistic looking at the names. One of which I had frequented some years ago, way before they decided to go big with mediocre and expensive Hokkien Mee. I’d never been back since. Although the long lost taste may not be found in the near future (not never, hopefully), every outing with the old kids was fun, as we reminisced the days of being wild, young and free. Now, I wonder if they remember the cornflake commercial.


Restoran Ahwa and Peng Yuan Hokkien Mee
off Jalan 222 Petaling Jaya
Selangor, Malaysia

Restoran Damansara Hokkien Mee
35, Jalan PJU 5/9 Kota Damansara
Selangor, Malaysia

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Green Valley Vegetarian Restaurant

There seemed to be a lot to choose from, including chicken rice. Wait a minute, isn’t this a vegetarian restaurant? But I was here mainly for the thunder rice, so it really didn’t matter. I can’t remember the last time I stepped into a Chinese vegetarian restaurant. It must have been decades ago, when I was first introduced to faux meat made of wheat gluten. My interest lasted only a couple of meals, mainly affected by the overwhelming use of artificial flavourings and oil. Of course, I'm still speaking in the context of Chinese vegetarian cuisine.

Over the years, my circle of friends extended. One of the ways to know them better is to understand their diets. I’m usually piqued by the vegetarians, especially when there’s a story involved. Some refrain from meat for health reasons but most regard it as part of their religion. One that I know did it out of love and respect for his religious wife. I do have many questions on this practice, from both mythical and scientific perspectives, but I must agree that underlying the different beliefs is the fact that this diet is essentially a healthy way of life.

Green Valley was quiet that Saturday. Not surprising as it was way past lunch time. This choice of lunch venue was late and most arbitral. But a good one, no doubt. Coming into a vegetarian restaurant with a stomach full of pork (from breakfast), I did feel slightly sinful, so we had another fibrous, green dish, in hope of minimizing the guilt. Joking lah.

The thunder tea and rice - instantly noticeable was the missing component of anchovies, but with a good variety of vegetables, black-eyed peas (that's new), tofu cubes and peanuts thrown in, I was not missing much. As for the green (literally) tea, all I can say is, thank goodness! It was what I expected - a healthy blend of basil/coriander/pepper/mint/etc paste thinned in hot water. Now, I'm not sure if anyone noticed but more and more thunder tea sellers are substituting plain hot water with superior stocks. Sure, it makes the tea umami but that's just wrong. Not authentic. It's not fusion but funny. A farce, even. I shudder at the thought of my past superior stock-thunder tea experiences at some major foodcourts in Singapore. And another stall in Senai, Johor. So, in conclusion, I really enjoyed Green Valley's thunder tea for being as original as I remembered, sans meat.

I'm not sure if one of my favourite colours has influenced my decision on the fried spinach noodles with a lightly starched bittergourd, wolfberries and oyster mushroom topping, but it sure was a good choice. Simple, healthy, tasty and affordable, the dish basically left no room for critiques.

Looking at the tedious preparation, amount of ingredients used, its acquired taste and selling price, I am in view that thunder tea is not a lucrative business. That makes me appreciate the dish and the sellers even more, especially when it's good. So, the faux meats may not guarantee my return to Green Valley, but the thunder tea definitely will.

Green Valley Vegetarian Restaurant
84-1, 2 ¼ Miles
Jalan Sungai Besi
57100 Kuala Lumpur
Malaysia

Friday, February 11, 2011

Lunch at Sek Yuen

The aluminium plates were each a piece of art, characteristically malled by the years they'd served. So impressive as well were the steaming hot rolls of colourful towels offered to the customers at the end of the meal. The cheerful and attentive hosts, especially the uncle in a Hawaiian shirt with loud hibiscus print, looked like they enjoyed their roles very much. A rarity these days, don't you think? In the background, Christmas songs sung in Mandarin where played. All these, and the food, made my first Sek Yuen experience on Christmas day a most satisfying one.

Dad recounted his few banquet attendances here some 30 years ago and praised their signature creations, including the chilled bowl of meat and jelly. Some of these dishes are long lost, he said. According to dad, the sweet and sour pork here is an all-time favourite. I must agree. Everyone can make sweet and sour pork, of course. But to take it beyond a high school science project of combining plain bottled ketchup and deep-fried pork requires some techniques. Or what we Cantonese call kung fu. At first glance, the blistering nuggets appeared to be the result of deep-frying in overheated oil, which usually causes the meat to be undercooked. Not at all, thankfully. In fact, each piece was cooked tender, pink to the core. Kung fu! Coat the crunchy golden fried batter with a balanced sauce of syrup, tomatoes and starch, and it's a colourful and appetizing dish.

I reported my menu to dad after that lunch and he seemed pleased that I had the pei pa duck, which was air-dried then deep-fried and yet, came just minimally greasy. This is a dish that has been with the restaurant for the longest time and it's really not difficult to understand its longevity. Addiction was that crack of the crispy skin followed by the taste of well-salted, succulent meat. If I'd proceeded with my plan for a bottle of affordable bubbly, nothing too fancy and difficult to pronounce, for this occasion, it would have paired this duck nicely, I'm sure.

My folks have been telling me that Sek Yuen is exemplary of classic Cantonese fare. But what is classic? I'm not sure if my limited knowledge and young tastebuds, furthermore marred by all these new fusion/confusion cuisines, grant me the ability to recognize such complexities - a skill that comes only with age and a long love for food. But I do know that good taste is always here to stay. And that's how I'll remember Sek Yuen.