Yeah yeah, I know exercise is good for health and all those craps that I'd already but know and memorised. Don't force me to do something that I don't like to do! I still remember my first PE lesson in Singapore, vividly. Okay, it was after SPM and I have not exercised in months, and surprise, surprise, the Annual Marathon of the Junior College that I enrolled was just around the corner when I get there. In order to make sure that we are all fit for the 3.4 km marathon, the Coach made all of us run for 5.1 km in 30 minutes!!! Blasphemy!!! 5.1 KM in the first bloody lesson, for goodness sake! No preparation, nothing, nada, zip. 5.1 km out of the blue, from the thin air, like all of us have that kind of stamina!
Of course most of the people (including me of course) squeezed and pulled some sour faces and sighed abnormally loud, but there's nothing we can do. We can never defy "The Coach"! Seniors had told us some pretty horrifying stories about push-ups and pull-ups for those few who are intrepid and inane enough to try to disobey The Coach's command. And it was not a pretty sight. (Imagine red-puffed faces, popping veins, exhausted groans, wan faces and lots and lots of sweat) *Shudders* Anyhow, after stretching and some warming up, the iron gate to the drudgery was opened and we were all out, en route to imminent lethargy. By the way, did I mention that the day was scorchingly hot?
The first kilometre or two was fine, until I reached the tiny hill of death. Though not very steep and high, with the sun and the oxygen debt in my system, it was extremely taxing. Furthermore, I realised that I am already very, very far behind with the clock still ticking. Hyperventilating, I forced myself to jog up the hill. I was so delighted to be on the peak of the hill. However, to my consternation later, I did not realise that this route is carefully planned and crafted to burn out all our calorie reserves or more. That was just a molehill compared to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. While doing that, more and more people are running past me.
By the time I am done with the "mountain range", it was well passed 30 minutes, still with about 1 kilometre left in my plate. God bless those who built the flat, even, asphalt kerb! Still, I am not happy. The final stretch ends about the horizon. By now, I am literally dragging my sweat coated limbs and trudge towards the end point. My faith in my water bottle where I seek solace kept me going. Well, The Coach on his Bicycle trailing behind me helped too :) I feel like I am more cowed to run rather than voluntary as I can feel His piercing leer behind me, filled with contempt. I wanted to shout to him : I am sorry that you have to trail behind me with your oh-not-so-shiny bike because of my ill stamina, but would you please just leave my dignity alone and stop torturing it?
Finally, the gate to heaven, the gate that signals the end of this arduous journey! I was panting so hard that I can virtually feel my own pulse. Not surprisingly, I am among the last ones to arrive, 20 minutes late. Just when I thought it was over, as a reward for arriving late, The Coach made all the late comers to do 20 push-ups and 20 crunches. My jaw dropped in disbelief. My eyes almost popped out. Bite me, Coach! was the first line in my brain. Reluctantly, I accepted those punishments by grinding the poor muscles of my skinny, deoxygenated limbs and abdomen. I was lucky I didn't get hernia. Then, ave Maria, all was over. What's left was my overworked muscles, which I was sure to and really did ache the next day, sweat-soaked T-shirt and the words The Coach scoffed at my face:
"You need to work up your stamina you know..."
ya...your coach was right..."You need to work up your stamina you know?"
ReplyDeletehaha...take it slowly and you will like it!
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