Calling in sick

   I rolled over in my uncomfortably hot covers, my eyes squinting at the digital alarm clock across the room. Strange, it wasn't ringing like it normally would. "5.50 am" it seemed to say to me in this freaky voice. For a moment, I thought about getting up and perform my usual school-going routine. As I got up, I was sickly reminded about my sickly condition. Gratefully, I sank back into my sheets, drifting back into a light sleep. I thought about what I'd miss in school today and tempted myself to wake up again. My body told me to stay put, but my studios side protested, just in case I would miss something awesome in school. Body won. " Not today...." I mumbled.

    No, I am not playing traunt today, I am merely sick. I can't remember the last time I've had to skip a day of school because my body couldn't function properly. The night before, my head was throbbing, my throat was rasp with all the constant coughing and my nose seemed like the most enthusiastic runner, keeping up a killer pace all night. Shortly after my morning wake-up, I was awoken again by the teasing rays of light piercing through my curtains. I would have to get up sometime, might as well be now.I groggily shook myself off and greeted my morning with some good cheese cake.


    As I've mentioned earlier, it's been a long while since I've fallen sick enough to skip school, and it takes an awful lot for me to skip school. Over the past few years, I've been at great pains to take care of myself. Sleeping early. Eating well. Staying positive. Exercising regularly. And above all, avoiding the plauge that is fast food ( that's right KFC, you're on my hate list ). Sadly, it seems that running your heart out in a marathon brings more burden than just sore legs and toes, no regrets though!


   Strangely enough, today has been rather refreshing for me. It's been such a long time since I've allowed some time for myself, some time for my body and mind to rest and recharge themselves to the fullest. Skipping school didn't turn out to be as bad as I thought. I got to enjoy my breakfast slowly, watch some mindless television, laze around the house, sleep for a good part of the afternoon and catch up on some witty novels ( no worries mom, I did my revision like you asked). After weeks of packed schedules and activities, It feels good to have nothing on my to-do list, even if it's for a day.


   For the longest time now, I've always been fed the mindset that life is one big race. That if I didn't get perfect grades or have the right skills, I'd definitely be sure to fall short in life and fail miserably. And so, I led life like a big race, constantly racing for a finish line that would never come. Maybe falling sick is a good thing, a sign asking me to slow down, before I blow one of my tires. I must admit, it does feel good to finally be able to kick my feet up and worry about nothing for a day. " But wouldn't lazing around like this all the time make you lazy as well? " my conscious screamed at me.


   So, which one is it? A life of hardwork and determination, pursuing big dreams and making big money? Or a life spent sniffing the flowers and lazing around all the time? There has to be a balance, a balance where I could work hard towards my dreams, and enjoy my life as well. Oh well, like a fine line in a vast desert, I'm sure that this balance will be very hard to find. Until then, I'll be content with hopping around from one spot to the other, depending on my oppurtunities. Better keep a vial of viruses handy, just in case I need another day off. 

Half a marathon

   The very first thing that struck me when I sat down on the grass field was the stiffness in my legs, my muscles were sore and I could feel them wounding up inside like a corkscrew. The soreness just seemed to spread up my body after my adrenaline rush, I felt soreness in places I never knew existed ( like my armpits ). My head was groggy, and I felt like I was going to see my breakfast again. You'd think that all these things meant I was a miserable meltdown. But no, I felt happy sitting there on the field, warming myself down and stretching like a fool. I was tired, sick, and my stomach felt like flipping itself out. But I was happy. A happy, sick, nauseous teenager who had sore ass armpits.

  Ever since I've joined the athletics team, it has always been my dream to complete a marathon. I don't know why, but the concept of it just appealed to me. It has always amazed me how people were able to run 42 kilometers in such a short time. Such a feat requires fitness, endurance and a whole lot of mental strength, something that I've always sought after. And so, I set my sights towards completing this grueling long-distance event. This morning, I've been given the chance to take a step closer towards achieving this dream of mine.

 

   For all you running enthusiasts out there, I'm sure you know that Standard Chartered holds a marathon annually down here in a Malaysia. And for all you coach potatoes, well, you know now. This year, I am finally able to register myself for the Honda Half marathon, and so I did. I did it instinctively, without giving much thought. I sneered to myself as I registered online, thinking that 21 kilometers was easy as cake.  Of course, I never fully grasped what I was going up against, not until today.

   It started off easy enough. Get up really early, take a cold shower, have a light breakfast, nothing too challenging or hard. By 4.30, I was already at Dataran Merdeka, eagerly awaiting for a race that would start at 6. Right from the start, I could see that this event was going to be a big one, just by the sheer number of people that were there, waiting patiently like me. A whopping 28,000 enthusiastic runners to be exact. At 5, I started my warm-up's, sizing up my competitors as I circled the field. I felt ecstatic, and for the love of me, I didn't know why.

   At the starting line, I was greeted by a whole new other-wordly experience. Runners budging past each other and smudging against one another regardless of what gender you are. I've been for a lot of road races, but never one that surpasses the sheer size of this one. I was all fine and dandy, till some guy smeared his sweaty back against my freshly-changed running tee. But oh, the oddities didn't stop there, there were runners dressed as clowns, a competitor who shat himself before the race started and a foreign woman breast-feeding her baby right next to me. Wonderful start to a morning.

   Before I knew it, the horn blared and we were off. The wind whipping across your face, the sound of running shoes scrubbing against the tar road, all the things that seem oh' so

familiar to me. To others, it may seem like a whole lot of trouble to get up at 3 in the morning just to drag our asses through a traffic jam to get to the center of town just to run our butts off. But to us runners, it's the thrill we seek when we run, and that thrill multiplies when we do it together.

   Throughout the entire 21 kilometers, I was never more than 2 meters away from another runner, that's how packed it was. Sometimes, I'd even have to sidestep myself to avoid an incoming collision with other runners. We moved as one. All 5900 of us, Meandering our way through the city hotspots. Lots of things happened after that. I overtook. I was overtaken. I met my old teacher. I grinned at blocked traffic. But above all, I ran my sorry heart out.

   Special thanks goes out to my wonderful dad, for driving me down to the city center at 4 in the morning and running 10 kilometers without registering just so i could make it for this big run. Could have never made it without you. After I got home, I heaved a sigh of relief mixed with a touch of happiness. They say that a man changes after he finishes a marathon. Half a change is enough for me today.

 

   

Talk about winning.

   I tossed and turned in my bed, sweat pouring down my back, even though it was well under 18 degrees in my air-conditioned room. Sleep was the last thing on my bed at that moment. My body felt exhausted, but thoughts were swirling around like sharks in my head. I hated this anticipation, I hated the doubt, it feels like a colony of ants feasting away at my brain. I know we've been training hard, but my mind just couldn't put it to rest. " What if someone messes up?", "What if the judges spot that small mistake?", "What if we lose?" sang my mind throughout the night.

  The next morning, we were all at the stadium sitting down on the track, awaiting for the announcement that would set us all in motion. All of us were in our full uniforms, ready to get the job done, ready to march our hearts out and ready to win. Even though we were shouting confidently and making jokes, I could still feel that wave of doubt rippling throughout the team. It didn't matter how confident we were, there was always that chance that we'd mess up, that small chance that we'd lose be sent home packing. I'd hate to think about what happens to us after that.

  Before I knew it, we were marching our way down the stadium track, the obnoxiously loud music constantly drowning away our timings and commands. This is it, time to channel all those weeks of training and sweat into this one shot. This one routine that would decide whether go home with pride or with our tails between our legs. I kind of expected the real thing to be long, gruelling, sweaty, just like our training. But no, it was over just as soon as it began. After that, we had to await for our verdict.


  Thankfully, I had a running event to keep my mind off the results of our marching. I warmed up, I stretched, I drank water, anything just to keep my blasted brain from thinking too much about the outcome. But alas, the time had to come when we would all find out who the winner is. Right after my event, was the prize giving ceremony, and I watched as members of my troop marched out onto the field, all with that look of anticipation on their faces.
   
   Turns out, I am too much of a worry wort for my own good. As the teacher announced the winner of the marching competition, my heart leapt with joy. As I watched from the sidelines, I could see the same expression from my fellow scouts, they were happy and relieved, ready to celebrate our victory. And celebrate we did. Needless to say, I was happy and proud. I've never been much of a winner, but today I felt like one, a big fat sloppy winner!

  

   

Lose your beauty and see.

   "Here you go" said the cashier cheerily, while smiling at the customer in front of me. The customer looks to be in her mid 20's, long-haired, pretty and the fun-loving type. She took the change from him and turned away giggling. The cashier was still oogling at her while she and her friends walked away. The second I stepped up to place my order, he immediately made a transition. He went from being all cheery and smiling to the bitter man that he usually is. He took my order in a way that it felt like he wanted me out of there so that he could take an order from someone prettier.
  
   Needless to say, being visually pleasing is an invaluable asset in the society of today. People talk to you sweeter. You get treated differently. Often, you'd get the upper hand over others if you have the gift of the looks. Sad to say, even I do this sometimes, I treat someone differently based purely on how good or how bad they look. What's worse, I often don't realize it until it's way too late. So, what is it about someone's beauty that causes us to act like this. An ever more pressing question is what is beauty? Who is it that defines what's beautiful and what's not?

   Beauty has always worked against me for as long as I knew. I've always watched others get the upper hand in terms of social well-being and self-esteem. My self-esteem was impaired tremendously when I was struck with a severe case of acne ( I've learned to accept it now ) Because of this, I was able to witness this phenomena from the sidelines, how people tend to gravitate towards beauty. To be honest, I often catch myself doing this too, though it's not a very good habit to cultivate. It's the classic example of the cliche phrase :" Don't judge a book by it's cover."


   If you still it hard to believe what I'm saying,and have some vague steadfast opinion that humans are just too good-natured, just stop and take a good look around. The cosmetic industry has never been this upbeat, where millions and millions of dollars are spent each day on cosmetic products and surgery. Even the media is dominated by this habit, where every photo, every video and every interview is inhabited by pretty people. It probably doesn't matter how good a speaker or a presenter you are, if you don't got the looks, you'll be ruled out soon enough.

   Thankfully, beauty isn't only limited to the human race. Everything around us can incorporate the value of beauty if we take the time to appreciate it, because what's beauty without an observer? The beauty of nature, the beauty of memories, the beauty of music, the beauty of food, the beauty of a moment... All of this is a valid example for beauty, and luckily, they can't be judged or differentiated by anybody. I highly doubt that anyone can ever define what true beauty is, and if someone does, he'd probably turn it into a business. That's how we are. 

  


  

Watching those birds.

    " You were watching birds weren't you?" my mom said teasingly. I wanted to deny her and save my face, but as my mouth opened to protest against her words, I paused and thought about it. She's right, I was watching those birds pretty carefully. Me and my friend, Ian, were sitting in Starbucks, for a good 2 hours, constantly pinging each other for beautiful birds that would pass by occasionally.Even though I was trying to busy myself by writing an essay, I just couldn't help myself from being distracted. And so, I turned and walked away from my mom, grinning at myself. I knew that I would lose the conversation hands down.
   
   For all you innocent readers out there who haven't figured it out, it isn't feathered, winged mammals that I'm watching, but something much closer to home, girls namely. I hate to admit it, but I seem to do it all the time. When I'm doing my homework, walking down the street, even when I'm talking to other girls. It was as if every time a female comes into view I'd do a quick full-body scan. It doesn't take long, maybe half a second or so, and then I'd make judgements based on what I saw. I was surprised that I'd make judgements so quickly, even without knowing the full facts. 

    A week after, here I am again, in Starbucks, enjoying a steaming hot cup of Cappucino (I'm sorry mom, but I couldn't help myself) and brain-storming over that conversation I had with my mom a week go. Even now, as I concentrate hard in creating words on this page, I still can't help myself from pulling my head up and admiring the occasional bird that passes by. It's like a sixth sense of mine, like my peripheral vision just manages to pick up a admirable bird and fire off alarms all over in my brain. 

   Now, before you ladies withdraw your heads back in disgust and call me a pervert of the worst sort, please, allow me to clear my name. I'm not the only guy that does this ( damn near every fella does it )  and I am definitely not a pervert of that sort. I don't look at a beautiful bird and dive straight in to try and catch it with nets and cages, at least I'd like to think I'm not. But I am curious as to why I unconsciously stare at girls sometimes, or as we guys call it "checking out the goods". It feels like I'm biologically programmed to do this, like it's ingrained into my male DNA. And so, I did some digging.   

   Turns out, there is a completely valid biological reason behind why I do this. And there's even a  field of science dedicated to it:http://www.oprah.com/relationships/The-Science-of-Sex-Appeal. Even things like smell, face shape and voice pitch play a vital role to why we all do this ( don't deny it girls, you check out the guys too ). After doing some reading on the subject, I definitely feel a lot better knowing that it's completely natural. Now, I'll be off, admiring more of the voluptuous birds as I go.

 

Rest now

Rest now my heart, for now you are finally free.

  Rest now my heart, for you finally have nothing to worry about.

 Rest now my heart, for you finally know the truth.

   For the past year now, my love life has been little more than a stagnant pool of water. I know that not having an active love life is nothing to be ashamed of, but it sure feels bad when you see pretty people around you enjoying themselves with their partners. After all, we're all biologically programmed to find the person we're meant to spent our lives with, it's in our blood. Seeing other people achieve that, It makes you wonder if you'll ever be able to find something that beautiful too.

   A long long time ago, I thought I found exactly just that, that someone who made me feel special, my very first love. It was like a drug, I enjoyed myself so much I didn't see what was coming. Of course it had to come to an end, like all good things do. I just never expected such a sudden and decisive blow right to my heart. I guess you could say I was heartbroken, for quite a while in fact. But enough with the mushy details, this isn't what I turned on the laptop for today.

   Don't worry, it's been far too long for me to bear ill-feelings over what happened between me and her. It's just that, when she left me, she never really told me why she did so. Now bear in mind, I was completely head over heels for this girl, and for the entire time we were together, I thought she felt the same too. When she left me, I was completely dumbfounded, sort of how you'd sit there gaping when someone stole your refrigerator and nothing else. It's funny how something as simple as a reason can mess with you for so long.

   Of course I was realistic enough to let her go shortly after we broke up, I'm definitely not some helpless puppy who can't stand a break-up. People tend to be annoyed when you keep on sending them sobby messages. Unfortunately, there was still this worm wriggling up there inside my head. This big fat ugly worm that kept on making preposterous and illogical reasons for why she left. It even went as far to tell me that she left me because of my skinny-ness. 

   I always thought that not knowing the truth was my only way to have peace of mind. I was afraid to find out why she left me all that time ago, even though I could easily gain access to such information. Because I feared that once I found out, i'd obsess myself over the little details of what went wrong and such. And god, the last thing i needed at the time was more stress for my fragile self.


   But recently, the chance for me to find out the mind-boggling answer to my predicament presented itself. At first, I wanted to turn it down, but something nudged me. It was like my mind was telling me :" Alright, even of this crap, time to end this." And so I persisted, and found out from a very reliable source. I must say, it was a bit of an anticlimax for me, kinda like how you feel after you attend a really lame party. I kind of expected something.... more solid, something more substantial.


   I know I sound like a peev saying this, but what a relief! Finally I find out the reason for my very first heartbreak, and it wasn't even a good one! Strangely enough, I feel no regret for ever dating her, even though it cost me so much. And so, as I look at the younger ones dating, exactly like how I did, I kinda have a feel about what's going to happen next.