Running Man

It's the dog days in Saratok after the Chinese New Year and I had to drag myself out for a run this evening. As usual I went to the running track a couple of kilometres out of town where the car park was full.  Several people were walking or running around the track and a football match was in progress in the middle.  I did a slow warm up, nodding every now and then to one of the regulars, then launched myself onto the track for a five kilometre trot, which my GPS watch tells me is just under eleven circuits in the outside lane.

Whenever I begin a run I have this anxiety that my body won't carry me, that this is the day when my old legs just refuse to budge and I stop immediately or fall flat on my face.  It never happens, muscle memory kicks in and the body just goes through the motions.  People seem surprised that I don't get bored, running round and round in circles, but there's a surprising amount of stimulation.  I have my MP3 player, on which I listen to radio podcasts.  This evening it was "Desert Island Discs" featuring Sir Terry Lyons, the strangely unassuming former Chief Exec of Tescos.  I also have my GPS watch, giving me a steady stream of data about my speed, distance covered and heart rate.  Tonight I'm slow, I struggle to cover a kilometre in six minutes thirty seconds, but my heart rate is up at about 120 beats per second.  I think I'm a bit under par and it's also pretty hot and humid and after a few minutes I'm drenched in sweat.

I started late this evening and after twenty minutes the sun has gone down and the football players have left the field and sat down on the grass around the car park for a chat.  I can feel mosquitos brushing my ankles and the swifts are out, swooping around the track eating their fill.  A bit of breeze picks up and it starts to spot with rain, but nothing happens.  I'm tired, but I press on slowly until my GPS tells me I've hit five kilometres, then I stop running and walk to the trackside where I drink some water and have a stretch against a small tree.

Why do I bother?  Perhaps because it makes me feel more alive, this daily test of fitness and stamina.  When you're running you're constantly confronted with the seductive possibility of not running.  All you have to do is tell your body to stop and every second that you keep going is a small victory over something.  It definitely makes one mentally tougher.  The hardest part is setting the goal before you start.  You have to be honest with yourself and decide clearly how far and how fast.  It has to be "five kilometres in under thirty minutes", not "maybe I'll do seven kilometres today", because that type of goal is never achieved.

Running came into my life late and it will be a sad day when I have to let it go.

Miri, Miri

With Chinese New Year looming Sue and I decided to make a quick getaway to the Marriot in Miri.  This is a resort hotel in the north of Sarawak, next door to oil-rich Brunei.  Miri itself is an oil town so there is money here, which in turn attracts expats and sleaze.

We flew here from Sibu at dusk in a turbo-prop which took off in heavy rain and thrummed and bumped its way to Miri in and out of thick cloud with the odd flash of lightning.  One of the main reasons for coming was that we can apparently stay using the "government rate", which gives a 50% discount for public servants.  This proved harder to wrestle from the smiling but wary staff at Reception than I expected, though I think we finally succeeded.  A number of Sue's colleagues had the same idea and it's been good to catch-up with people around the pool and over dinner.

Because the hotel is out of town we've been insulated from the Chinese New Year celebrations, apart from being woken up by a barrage of fireworks on Saturday night.  Sue has spent most of her time working on an essay for the Open University, while I've been working out in the gym, watching TV and chatting.

Today I noticed that the red carpet had been rolled out at the hotel entrance.  It seems the First Minister of Sarawak is coming to stay.  Our second encounter in a week.  A few days ago the Saratok running track was turned into a parking lot for several helicopters as the Minister dropped in to press flesh.  National elections are looming and largesse is being spread around like there is no tomorrow.

Happy Chinese New Year everyone!  I hope it's auspicious that Malaysia's elections are taking place in the Year of the Snake.