Rebecca Ilham's Blog
September 15, 2019
'Hati' and A Personal Struggle
"Hati" in BH Ahad, 15 September 2019Alhamdulillah.
Relief.
That is the best emotion to describe my feeling upon finishing writing 'Hati' a few weeks ago. For the past two, three years, particularly after writing Rumah Kopi (yikes that's four years ago!), I just spiraled towards a black hole where I struggled artistically on a daily basis.
Nothing I wrote was satisfactory - I wanted to tell so much but couldn't find the right way to do it. I tried reading previous works that used to be effortless to write and even attempted to finish a few that after breezy first three to four pages, I couldn't quite find how the plots could progress. Yet theye were all to no avail.
So I turned to other form of writing that were no as taxing - travel writing. My rationale was that I needed to keep the dexterity intact, and who knew, the change might lead me to new expressions I was craving for.
Travel writing opened a whole new world to me, I definitely liked the financial benefits but at the back of my mind, I always reminded myself that I needed to return to my true vocation - literature. Oh wait - travel writing, when done right, is literature too - I love Bruce Chatwin's 'The Songlines', an epitome of travel writing that would always be the beacon in my personal quest at being a better travel writer - so the right term is fiction. I needed to return to fiction.
Wrote a few along the way despite my heart not being fully in them. It's okay, I tried to convince myself, efforts do count to something, right? I knew that if I kept trying, the misses would eventually turned into hits.
In the meantime, I channeled my energy more vigorously into other things that I'd always been doing - reading, running and traveling. They left me exhausted sometimes, and took much of my free time that I started questioning if I wasn't destined to write anymore. It crossed my mind that maybe, just maybe, I didn't have what it took to be a writer anyway, and now I had been found out.
Yep, I had reached that point of existentialist's crisis.
Yet since reading, running and traveling were going so well and rewarded me almost instantly, I decided to just keep going. My rationale was that these things I enjoyed were resources, somehow, they would gave me spaces to observe, perceive and think more objectively, away from my ultimate vocation - writing.
So when a few weeks ago, the idea for 'Hati' culminated, I decided not to rush. I was scared. I was afraid if it was another false alarm that wouldn't go anywhere. Rejection hurts, even if it was from your own writing. So I think I slept on it first. Then when it lingered and words kept forming in my head I thought what the heck, let's just start it and see how it goes. I just wrote one phrase in my note book - 'anak angkat' - then I started typing.
The story flowed, smoothly. Too smooth that it scare the hell out of me. There were instances that I was afraid, so I steppe back; I postponed writing for two days at one stretch, citing tiredness from running as the reason. Yet deep down I knew it was something else.
Pretty much, I knew how the first half of the story would unfold, but I wasn't sure on how it would end. Also, I was initially worried about the accuracy of each 'symbol' with what they were supposed to represent. Then I decided to relax - this was a fiction I'm writing; it was about facts, but I didn't need to be spot on 100%.
As for how I arrived at the ending, I was reminded by the foreword in my last book on the roles of protagonist and antagonist in a work of fiction. After all, we were all imperfect.
I must say there was this satisfaction at having completed 'Hati.' No, not the kind of satisfaction of having had written your masterpiece from herewith you could rest your pen and retire happily. It was a satisfaction derived from knowing that I had put my heart into it.
While I toyed with the idea of stepping away from this kind of subject matter and (in jest) write more on domestic subjects, I guess this was, is, where my heart truly is.
Happy reading, and Selamat Hari Malaysia!
December 23, 2018
Misi Maraton 14 - Chuncheon Marathon 2018
I would be lying if I said I didn't hope for a PB going into Chuncheon Marathon.
However, I tried to be realistic. My training had been a mess, and I didn't start my long run until 4 weeks before race day itself.
Post Nagano Marathon in April, I took a break in conjuction with Ramadhan. Then Hari Raya happened, when I found my start of training season kept being postponed due to events and work. In July, work truly happened - I was working on weekends, and into the night. It was tiring, and whenever I had extra time, all I wanted to do was to sleep. Still, I managed to do 10 to 12 km sessions here and there. A couple of times I managed to do 16 km.
In late August, I went on a Seishun 18 Kippu trip in Japan, where I was perpetually tired but motivated by the long, slow train travel through magnificent countryside. I ran twice around the Imperial Palace loop in Tokyo, and hiked a mountain in Toyama.
When I returned, it was obvious. I was exhausted. Thus I made the bold decision to truly rest for a couple of weeks. Then I got sick. There were instances that I felt so grateful to be able to crawl into bed at the end of a long day for a long, deep sleep.
Despite lack of fitness, alhamdulillah I felt good enough to lace up and race in Orchid Run & Ride in September 2018, and improved my 12km PB by 2 minutes. With only 4 weeks to Chuncheon Marathon, I was determined to do long runs for the rest of the subsequent weekends.
I must say that apart from the 1st LSD, the other three were less than satisfying (I felt that I went too slow) but I took what I could.
We flew into Incheon in Seoul on Saturday morning, and proceeded to Chuncheon via an express bus straight from the airport. After a confusing turn in search of our hotel, we managed to check in before going out in search of a late lunch (sundubu jjigae, yay!).
Chuncheon is a town in the Gangwon Province, and as any other towns/cities outside Seoul, it is smaller in scale and population, not to mention less hectic and lack of skyscrapers. The people somehow I felt are friendlier, and obviously speak minimal English, if not at all. I traveled with my sister and her friend, who reads and speaks some Korean, thus we managed to get by :)
With our tummy full, we continued walking in the ate autumn afternoon along pavements carpeted by fallen golden ginkgo leaves, heading towards Gongjicheon Sculpture Park, the start/finish area of the marathon, to collect our race kit.
I was surprised to see the scale of the race expo, which was still being set up, as it was a much larger one compared to Seoul Marathon 2016. Looking at the banners and the arrangement of things, I could feel that Chuncheon would be a different experience. For one, it would be more festive, instead of a sterile experience in Seoul.
The race kit collection was a breeze. The sole staff at the information tent was expecting foreign runners, thus we just mentioned our names from her list and were give our respective race packs. Apart from myself, my sister will be running 10 km, while Stef will spectate. We spent the next few minutes taking pictures in the middle of the field, with Chuncheon Marathon stage in the background.
After that we adjourned to the park, where we were amazed by the lake, the mountains and obviously, the autumn foliage. We also took note of the location of the starting arch for the next day race. In my mind, I started to visualize my movements so I could manage my time better tomorrow.
We hiked up to the observatory before descending again and walking back toward the city. The idea was not to strain, but just to "acclimatize" ourselves. Once back in the city, we quickly searched for a place to have dinner, ending up choosing pasta over anything else.
The next morning, we planned to check out and leave the hotel by 7.30 am.It wasn't raining yet but the sky was overcast. The walk to the park took around 30 mins, and glad to say that we were not alone. We joined more runners when we arrived at the main junction heading to the park.
As my race started earlier than my sister, I bundled up my jacket and put it with my backpack into the provided plastic bag for baggage storage. Here at Chucheon, a numbered sticker was not provided earlier, but given when the plastic bag was deposited at the baggage area. By this time, it was raining, heavier than a drizzle, but bearable.
After a trip to the port-a-potty, it was time to bid the girls goodbye and make my way to the starting line. I was assigned to Block D, which was a surprise. With my PR of 4:40:50, I had always been in second last block in Japan, especially in 5-hour COT races. Then I saw the banner at the start of the block, in which they split qualification times for men and women. While Block D men had time between 3:57 to 4:20, the women's time was between 4:27:00 to 4:40:59. That meant I qualified because my times was ONLY 9 seconds faster.
It was there in the starting block that I started to truly ask myself about aiming for a new PB. In Nagano, having missed it by 1:12 made me question myself of my ability to run fast. Could I do it today? I saw pacers taking positions. In Chuncheon, each block was assigned with pacers of similar finish times. For instance, there were 4:20 pacers for Blocks D, E, F, G.
Keeping the word PB at the back of my mind, I decided to run as fast as I could in the beginning, and to not let the 4:40 pacers to pass me. I knew I would slow down later, but hopefully by the time came, I already covered sufficient distance. All these, and also to just enjoy the race.
From background reading, I was informed that the first few km's would be hilly. Thus, while keeping the pace, I was also cautioning myself to not overexert. The hills were bearable at first, but there some hard inclines before we approached the side of the lake. I kept my eyes open for the 4:40, or maybe 4:30 pacers, but couldn't find them. Thus for for the first 25 km, I actually tagged along the 4:20 pace groups. The first 4:20 group I was with was from my block. Then I stopped for a slightly longer water and gel break at halfway, and quickly attached myself to the 4:20 pace group from block E.
I loved the atmosphere of the marathon. There was never a truly "alone" moment as the starting throng was more than 20,000 pax strong. Despite the rain, which could turn from drizzles to heavy downpour in matter of minutes, the spirit of the runners was never dampened. I couldn't feel my fingers and soles most of the time, but I was pushed on my the camaraderie. Spectators were scarce or non existent because the route was closed to the public (we went around the vast lake), but the runners were shouting as we went through tunnels, and running groups made marching sounds as they ran. I must say the volunteers were amazing too! They were helpful, energetic and efficient.
I let the pace group go at KM25 when I stopped for the much needed toilet break. From where I was, I could see runners across the lake, wondering how long would it take me to get there. The lake was grey, the surrounding mountains enveloped by thick mist. My legs were sore, the fatigue was creeping in and I did wonder if I should just call it quit.
My body, happy with the short break, protested when I started running again. Yet, I resisted back. I saw the 4:20 pace group from block F not too far at the front, and was determined to chase and attach myself to them. However, no matter how much effort I put in, they seemed to be too fast to me. The time to slow down had came, and I was only too happy to oblige.
Rain started to pour down again, thus I grabbed a plastic rain coat given out by volunteers at an aid station. My resolve at the time was to just not get caught by 4:40 pace group. Being in front of them meant one thing - a PB. As the rain got heavier, I made a right turn to cross the bridge and got to the other side of the lake. During this time, I heard faint ambulance siren which rapidly was getting clearer and closer. Not knowing where the emergency was, I made my way to the right side of the route to let the ambulance passed, whenever it arrived at where I was.
However, when I was just about to make the turn, I saw a runner waving frantically towards the ambulance. I glanced to the left as saw a volunteer performing CPR on a collapsed runner. With him were two other runners. Thus I didn't stop. I ran a quick check on my conditions - whether I was showing signs of hypothermia (I didn't - despite numb fingers and soles, my limbs and chest were warm, my breathing - apart from the usual fatigue - was fine). The rest of the fields were silent, except for the split-splat of our running shoes on the slick road. I was sure that everyone was thinking of the same thing that I was - it could have been one of us.
After a short decline, I was climbing again, but the incline was not very hard anymore. The best thing was, the remaining distance was fast approaching a single digit. At KM 31, I was passed by a sole 4:40 pacer from Block G. In a blink, I lost her. I guess that explained why no one could keep up with her.
I made it to KM 32 below 3:30. I couldn't really remember what happened for the next 4 km, except being very elated to make it to KM 36 under 4 hours. In Nagano, I made it there in 4:00. Thus, I knew I was faster. Also, with lack of headwind, even with the rain, my hope for a PB got stronger. To cope, I split the remaining 6 km into 3 segments of 2 km each. At this point, we have left the lake behind and were directed through the city of Chuncheon. The route was straight and very flat.
I didn't know what got into me, but that was when I felt as if I rediscovered the purpose of running. I was so stressed prior to the trip. I tried to find joy in running as it was once were to me, but that was hard most of the time, especially when running became a way to cope with the dark thoughts in my head. Why couldn't I run because I just wanted to?
I got to KM 37 in 4:00. Don't fall - I kept telling myself as my feet felt light and my posture strong. I shed the raincoat, thinking that it wouldn't rain again (I was wrong). I got to KM 40 in 4:20. Made a quick calculation, and accepted that sub 4:30 was out of my reach. Thus my goal was just one - a PB with as much margin as possible.
It rained again, and as I approached the crowded (and flooded) finishing line, my tears mixed with the rain. I kept thinking of my family, the reason I ran. I ran so I could leave all my anxieties, my dark thoughts, my worries aside, and hopefully cope with the pressure of being better for them. Thus, as I stopped my watch when my feet crossed the final timing mat, I couldn't stop crying.
This new PB 4:32:38 was for them. For the people who loved me unconditionally, again and again, despite my constant shortcomings.
That was the true joy of running.
And I was blessed to be sharing the moments with my youngest sister, who ran for the first time overseas and better her own 10 km PB by a staggering 15 mins in tougher conditions that at home!
However, I tried to be realistic. My training had been a mess, and I didn't start my long run until 4 weeks before race day itself.
Post Nagano Marathon in April, I took a break in conjuction with Ramadhan. Then Hari Raya happened, when I found my start of training season kept being postponed due to events and work. In July, work truly happened - I was working on weekends, and into the night. It was tiring, and whenever I had extra time, all I wanted to do was to sleep. Still, I managed to do 10 to 12 km sessions here and there. A couple of times I managed to do 16 km.
In late August, I went on a Seishun 18 Kippu trip in Japan, where I was perpetually tired but motivated by the long, slow train travel through magnificent countryside. I ran twice around the Imperial Palace loop in Tokyo, and hiked a mountain in Toyama.
When I returned, it was obvious. I was exhausted. Thus I made the bold decision to truly rest for a couple of weeks. Then I got sick. There were instances that I felt so grateful to be able to crawl into bed at the end of a long day for a long, deep sleep.
Despite lack of fitness, alhamdulillah I felt good enough to lace up and race in Orchid Run & Ride in September 2018, and improved my 12km PB by 2 minutes. With only 4 weeks to Chuncheon Marathon, I was determined to do long runs for the rest of the subsequent weekends.
I must say that apart from the 1st LSD, the other three were less than satisfying (I felt that I went too slow) but I took what I could.
We flew into Incheon in Seoul on Saturday morning, and proceeded to Chuncheon via an express bus straight from the airport. After a confusing turn in search of our hotel, we managed to check in before going out in search of a late lunch (sundubu jjigae, yay!).
Chuncheon is a town in the Gangwon Province, and as any other towns/cities outside Seoul, it is smaller in scale and population, not to mention less hectic and lack of skyscrapers. The people somehow I felt are friendlier, and obviously speak minimal English, if not at all. I traveled with my sister and her friend, who reads and speaks some Korean, thus we managed to get by :)
With our tummy full, we continued walking in the ate autumn afternoon along pavements carpeted by fallen golden ginkgo leaves, heading towards Gongjicheon Sculpture Park, the start/finish area of the marathon, to collect our race kit.
I was surprised to see the scale of the race expo, which was still being set up, as it was a much larger one compared to Seoul Marathon 2016. Looking at the banners and the arrangement of things, I could feel that Chuncheon would be a different experience. For one, it would be more festive, instead of a sterile experience in Seoul.
The race kit collection was a breeze. The sole staff at the information tent was expecting foreign runners, thus we just mentioned our names from her list and were give our respective race packs. Apart from myself, my sister will be running 10 km, while Stef will spectate. We spent the next few minutes taking pictures in the middle of the field, with Chuncheon Marathon stage in the background.
After that we adjourned to the park, where we were amazed by the lake, the mountains and obviously, the autumn foliage. We also took note of the location of the starting arch for the next day race. In my mind, I started to visualize my movements so I could manage my time better tomorrow.
We hiked up to the observatory before descending again and walking back toward the city. The idea was not to strain, but just to "acclimatize" ourselves. Once back in the city, we quickly searched for a place to have dinner, ending up choosing pasta over anything else.
The next morning, we planned to check out and leave the hotel by 7.30 am.It wasn't raining yet but the sky was overcast. The walk to the park took around 30 mins, and glad to say that we were not alone. We joined more runners when we arrived at the main junction heading to the park.
As my race started earlier than my sister, I bundled up my jacket and put it with my backpack into the provided plastic bag for baggage storage. Here at Chucheon, a numbered sticker was not provided earlier, but given when the plastic bag was deposited at the baggage area. By this time, it was raining, heavier than a drizzle, but bearable.
After a trip to the port-a-potty, it was time to bid the girls goodbye and make my way to the starting line. I was assigned to Block D, which was a surprise. With my PR of 4:40:50, I had always been in second last block in Japan, especially in 5-hour COT races. Then I saw the banner at the start of the block, in which they split qualification times for men and women. While Block D men had time between 3:57 to 4:20, the women's time was between 4:27:00 to 4:40:59. That meant I qualified because my times was ONLY 9 seconds faster.
It was there in the starting block that I started to truly ask myself about aiming for a new PB. In Nagano, having missed it by 1:12 made me question myself of my ability to run fast. Could I do it today? I saw pacers taking positions. In Chuncheon, each block was assigned with pacers of similar finish times. For instance, there were 4:20 pacers for Blocks D, E, F, G.
Keeping the word PB at the back of my mind, I decided to run as fast as I could in the beginning, and to not let the 4:40 pacers to pass me. I knew I would slow down later, but hopefully by the time came, I already covered sufficient distance. All these, and also to just enjoy the race.
From background reading, I was informed that the first few km's would be hilly. Thus, while keeping the pace, I was also cautioning myself to not overexert. The hills were bearable at first, but there some hard inclines before we approached the side of the lake. I kept my eyes open for the 4:40, or maybe 4:30 pacers, but couldn't find them. Thus for for the first 25 km, I actually tagged along the 4:20 pace groups. The first 4:20 group I was with was from my block. Then I stopped for a slightly longer water and gel break at halfway, and quickly attached myself to the 4:20 pace group from block E.
I loved the atmosphere of the marathon. There was never a truly "alone" moment as the starting throng was more than 20,000 pax strong. Despite the rain, which could turn from drizzles to heavy downpour in matter of minutes, the spirit of the runners was never dampened. I couldn't feel my fingers and soles most of the time, but I was pushed on my the camaraderie. Spectators were scarce or non existent because the route was closed to the public (we went around the vast lake), but the runners were shouting as we went through tunnels, and running groups made marching sounds as they ran. I must say the volunteers were amazing too! They were helpful, energetic and efficient.
I let the pace group go at KM25 when I stopped for the much needed toilet break. From where I was, I could see runners across the lake, wondering how long would it take me to get there. The lake was grey, the surrounding mountains enveloped by thick mist. My legs were sore, the fatigue was creeping in and I did wonder if I should just call it quit.
My body, happy with the short break, protested when I started running again. Yet, I resisted back. I saw the 4:20 pace group from block F not too far at the front, and was determined to chase and attach myself to them. However, no matter how much effort I put in, they seemed to be too fast to me. The time to slow down had came, and I was only too happy to oblige.
Rain started to pour down again, thus I grabbed a plastic rain coat given out by volunteers at an aid station. My resolve at the time was to just not get caught by 4:40 pace group. Being in front of them meant one thing - a PB. As the rain got heavier, I made a right turn to cross the bridge and got to the other side of the lake. During this time, I heard faint ambulance siren which rapidly was getting clearer and closer. Not knowing where the emergency was, I made my way to the right side of the route to let the ambulance passed, whenever it arrived at where I was.
However, when I was just about to make the turn, I saw a runner waving frantically towards the ambulance. I glanced to the left as saw a volunteer performing CPR on a collapsed runner. With him were two other runners. Thus I didn't stop. I ran a quick check on my conditions - whether I was showing signs of hypothermia (I didn't - despite numb fingers and soles, my limbs and chest were warm, my breathing - apart from the usual fatigue - was fine). The rest of the fields were silent, except for the split-splat of our running shoes on the slick road. I was sure that everyone was thinking of the same thing that I was - it could have been one of us.
After a short decline, I was climbing again, but the incline was not very hard anymore. The best thing was, the remaining distance was fast approaching a single digit. At KM 31, I was passed by a sole 4:40 pacer from Block G. In a blink, I lost her. I guess that explained why no one could keep up with her.
I made it to KM 32 below 3:30. I couldn't really remember what happened for the next 4 km, except being very elated to make it to KM 36 under 4 hours. In Nagano, I made it there in 4:00. Thus, I knew I was faster. Also, with lack of headwind, even with the rain, my hope for a PB got stronger. To cope, I split the remaining 6 km into 3 segments of 2 km each. At this point, we have left the lake behind and were directed through the city of Chuncheon. The route was straight and very flat.
I didn't know what got into me, but that was when I felt as if I rediscovered the purpose of running. I was so stressed prior to the trip. I tried to find joy in running as it was once were to me, but that was hard most of the time, especially when running became a way to cope with the dark thoughts in my head. Why couldn't I run because I just wanted to?
I got to KM 37 in 4:00. Don't fall - I kept telling myself as my feet felt light and my posture strong. I shed the raincoat, thinking that it wouldn't rain again (I was wrong). I got to KM 40 in 4:20. Made a quick calculation, and accepted that sub 4:30 was out of my reach. Thus my goal was just one - a PB with as much margin as possible.
It rained again, and as I approached the crowded (and flooded) finishing line, my tears mixed with the rain. I kept thinking of my family, the reason I ran. I ran so I could leave all my anxieties, my dark thoughts, my worries aside, and hopefully cope with the pressure of being better for them. Thus, as I stopped my watch when my feet crossed the final timing mat, I couldn't stop crying.
This new PB 4:32:38 was for them. For the people who loved me unconditionally, again and again, despite my constant shortcomings.
That was the true joy of running.
And I was blessed to be sharing the moments with my youngest sister, who ran for the first time overseas and better her own 10 km PB by a staggering 15 mins in tougher conditions that at home!
April 26, 2018
Misi Nagano Marathon 2018
Less than two weeks ago, one week after SCKLM 2018, I came close to a new personal best at Nagano Marathon 2018. 1 minute 12 seconds close. Considering that it was a race in tough conditions (intermittent rain, strong wind and high chill factor), it was already a battle won to finish within my KPI (4:45:00) and cut-off time (5:00:00), thus to be honest I didn’t dwell on it much. I didn’t even chastise myself for taking a second toilet break, or stopping to turn off my screaming 12.20 pm alarm (haha) and trottig a few seconds too early at water stations.
Anyway.
Even though I wanted to run Nagano Marathon for the past maybe 3 years (I registered last year but didn’t follow it through), I always thought it was too fast for me. However, after breaking 5 hours in 2016, and running my personal best at Nagoya Women’s Marathon last year, I gained confidence. Yet, deciding to run in the 1998 Winter Olympic host city wasn’t a straight-forward decision.
I made the commitment at the last minute, a mere few days from the closing of application period, about a week or so before running Kyoto Marathon. My work schedule was just being rolled out and I saw a window in which I could be away for a few days, thus decided to seize it, noting that it was only a week after SCKLM 2018. I toned the negative voices down; I’ve done back-to-back marathons before (Osaka & Toyama) with lack of rest in between and being not fully prepared. It’s been almost 3 years and I felt I was better trained and known myself better too.
I ran a great race at SCKLM 2018 (see previous post). Deep in my heart, while running fast(er) than I usually do in hot and humid conditions, I wanted the race to serve as my LSD for Nagano as well. I think it worked: I spent the week in between recovering and resting my feet, which then (and still are now) had two black, throbbing toenails.
I flew into Tokyo on Friday morning as planned, and after checking into my hostel in Kita-ueno, met with a good friend of mine and off we went to Tokyo National Museum, followed by dinner. I stayed at Ueno for a reason: to be close to a less crowded transportation hub - Ueno Station -because I would take the shinkansen (bullet train) to Nagano the following morning.
I wasn’t in a hurry so I left on the 11.30 am Hakutaka (Hokuriku Shinkansen line) after a short excursion to Sumida area to one of my favorite coffee shops in Tokyo. The barista remembered me from my previous visit last year :D Still, I felt that I arrived in Nagano (12.52 pm) too early. My hotel was not in the city center (usually when I decided to run a particular marathon in Japan, I would try to secure accommodation first before applying for the race but since this was a last minute decision, I applied for accommodation through the organizer and its was EXPENSIVE for me), thus I deposited my backpack into one of the coin lockers, noting the location and availability as I would keep it there again when I run the next day.
Shuttle buses to the Big Hat, where the race bib collection was held was provided from the station at the cost of 400 yen (return). Nagano was a bit rural, and public transportations to/from the venues (race pack collection, start line, finish line) were not very convenient, thus I didn’t even bother and just followed the arrangements made by the organizer.
The race bib collection was a breeze so I decided to check out the race expo for a bit. Lined up for photo ops where I finally put down my target time (4:45:00). I didn’t aim for a PB because I felt that would be too ambitious since I just ran another marathon a few days prior. After a couple of rounds around all the booths, I returned to the station, where I had lunch.
Debated whether I should take the bus or walked to Zenkoji (2.5 km away), and ended up walking anyway despite the earlier attempt to rest my legs. I wasn’t the only runner walking all the way there though; there were plenty of others and there was a cart selling amulets for runners just inside the temple’s gate!
Also noticed that the temple gate was a finish point for an ongoing ultramarathon race. Two runners finished while I was there, and looking at the clock, they were flagged of at midnight. Yet, they didn’t look beaten at all, but quite fresh and obviously elated!
Walked back to the station from Zenkoji, treating myself to some tidbits from shops along the avenue leading to/from the temple. Also noticed that there was a Maruyama Coffee in the station! Maruyama is an upscale specialty coffee shop that I really really wanted to go to. Almost walked into the shop but reminded myself to save it for celebration tomorrow.
I hit the sack around 10.30 pm, with a set schedule in my head. I needed to take the 6 am train, so I would have to get up at 5.00 am to allow for ample time to prepare. Upon arrival at Nagano Station, I would store my backpack in the locker before boarding the special train for runners heading to Kita-Nagano.
I also took a bathroom break, thus missed the 6.25 am train, and waited with the others to board the 6.59 train. From Kita-Nagano station, we walked in the drizzling rain for 20 minutes to get to Aqua Wings, a 1998 Winter Olympic facility.
The weather that day didn’t look encouraging. I was glad that it wasn’t hot, but it was a bit chilly from the rain and the wind. Thus, I took refuge inside the building which was designated as the women’s changing area. It was really warm inside, and I could comfortably stretch, go to the toilet and packed my bag before depositing it at the baggage truck.
Even though it only admitted 12,000 participants, only 1,000 runners were grouped in each block. Thus I was in Block L, which was the 2nd last one. That was a bit demotivating, but I took it lightly. Being fast or last was relative. My target was always to finish strong.
Having been quite ignorant with the details of the marathon, I was excited when the emcee invited the race ambassador, Naoko Takahashi, to say a few words of encouragement. Takahashi was the gold medalist in women’s marathon at 2000 Sydney Olympics. She was also the former world record holder for the same category. To actually listen her live like that, and saw her at the starting line were quite an experience for me.
Later when we started running (it was drizzling again before legitimately raining), she would sneak in the middle of the pack, high-fiving and encouraging us. It felt surreal to have her passing my side.
Anyway. Back to running.
I crossed the starting line just slightly less than 8 minutes after the gun. My strategy in a 5-hour cut off time marathons was always the same thus far: stay with the pack, do not get left behind. Minimize immobile time at water stations, take gel while running, etc, etc.
I definitely didn’t expect that it would be a wet race, but found myself not really minding it. When my glasses got too foggy, I would take them off. When it stopped raining, I wore them again. I side-stepped water puddles carefully, taking care to maintain my pace.
I wouldn’t say that it was a great day of running, but I was surprised at how fluid each 5-km segment came by. I was first doing a sub 6:30min/km pace, then sub 6:00min/km. Obviously it got slower again but each km thankfully rolled in before I started calculating in my head.
I got to halfway in 2:15, and by this time we were already led out of the city. Actually we were never really in a city in the real sense. Nagano was a huge kampong and residential areas: most of the Winter Olympics venues were located either between occupied houses or in the middle of nowhere. But one thing for sure, they really made us ran around these venues. In a way, that was befitting to the race’s name: Commemorative Nagano Marathon, and also a great way to ensure the facilities remained relevant.
While I didn’t really spend time enjoying the enthusiastic supporters (always happened when I was racing against time) who came out despite the weather, I truly enjoyed running on narrow kampong roads in between paddy plots and sakura orchards. It reminded me of running in Toyama, but the mountains were much closer, and instead of being capped with snow, they were shrouded by mists. It was breathtakingly beautiful when the mists slowly lifted as the day warmed up.
I reached 32 km in 3:30 and 36 km in 4:00. The rain had eased up, only to be replaced by strong gusts of headwind. I tried to find shelter behind other runners but being a small scale marathon, that was hard to come by. My pace faltered to 7:00 min/km, then 7:35 min/km. I didn’t realize when did I start pining for a PB, but at that time, I could feel it slipping away.
I made it to 38 km in 4:15. It was still in the middle of nowhere in some kampong or other, and the Winter Olympic Stadium, the finish point, was nowhere in sight. The wind was still strong, but I told myself to make it to 40 km in 4:30. Then I will have 10 minutes to make a final assault for a PB.At that very moment, the wind died down. We took a turn and suddenly the village road was all behind us. We entered a two-lane paved road leading to the stadium (I still couldn’t see it by the way). I made it to 40 km as per my goal.
With 10 minutes in hand, I tried to run as fast as I could, but I knew sub 5 min/km pace was just beyond me. Thus, I decided to focus on what I was capable of. I passed the last gate at 41.1 km and continued towards the stadium.
Upon entering the unpaved lane leading into the building, there stood Takahashi, cheering and giving out high fives. I was too star-struck before so this time I hit her palm. That was the highlight of my run, to be honest. We were made to run about 200 m on grass towards the finish line and it felt like an honor to complete the journey inside a prestigious venue. I sprinted and crossed the finish line in 4:42:02.
Drifted with the crowd and received a wet towel (a first in six marathons I did in Japan thus far!) to wipe my face and hands with, the finisher’s towel and finisher’s medal. Then I surrendered the timing chip before joining a few other finishers behind the fence observing other runners as the clock approached the sacred 5:00:00 cut-off time.
It felt like a festival as the emcee kept urging on runners entering the stadium. Takahashi was also on her toes, this time on the track, high fiving and running with the would-be finishers to the finish line. When the clock struck 5:00:00, everyone applauded each other, followed by the “banzai” cheer. Still, runners were streaming in. I think they let all who passed the 41.1 km gate at cut-off time 4:59 to continue.
I took my leave and exited the stadium to search for my baggage truck, before making my way to join the long line to board the shuttle bus to Nagano Station (waiting time was 20 mins when I started queueing up). The stadium was located in an area inaccessible by train so all participants were given a shuttle bus coupon which they could use to get to their preferred stations (Nagano or Shinonoi). It took maybe around 30 mins from boarding time until the bus arrived at the station – I am not really sure because I fell asleep.
There was something I did differently this time around post marathon: going to a sento (public bathhouse). I was traveling to a different city two-bullet-train ride away thus I wanted to be clean. Before this, I shied away from it because commonly accepted wisdom cautioned against using hot water after a marathon as blood capillaries would swell and expand, hindering recovery. However, I had no choice.
Walked to the sento closest to the station with a fellow runner, a local who said that we were in the same starting block. He was using GPS on his phone while me, the walking map I got from the station’s info center where I went to ask for the direction. Looked like we weren’t the only one with the same idea; there were other runners preceding us when we arrived.
I didn’t know if the hot water from an onsen (hot spring) was the reason, but recovery was much faster this time. Post SCKLM 2018, the pain dissipated on Wednesday, but after Nagano, I felt fine on Tuesday. For the record, I went to a sento again, in Yuzawa, on Monday.
My next marathon wouldn’t be so soon. I will allow some time to work on my base without being too stressed, before going through the usual grind again hopefully three months before the big day.
Thanks for reading, and happy running!
April 9, 2018
SCKLM 2018: Full Marathon Number 12
The precious medal at Bangunan Sultan Abdul Samad, Dataran MerdekaSo while the adrenaline is still high and before the details are all faded, I figure I should quickly write about my 12th full marathon experience at Standard Chartered KL Marathon 2018 yesterday.
The decision to not run many full marathons every year is natural. Gradually I decided that most races do not worth the hassle, and the money. But SCKLM is always worth both. It was the race that started me running consistently, training for its 10km (leisure) category back in 2013. I returned in 2014, upgrading the distance to half marathon.
Then I ran my 1st FM in early 2015, with the plan to run SCKLM 2015 as my 2nd FM. It was the year that the race was cancelled due to haze, so when the registration opened in 2016, I was excited to finally ran the sacred distance in KL. It was one of the best running experiences, as I met the 5:30 pacer group, and we have been in touch since. Their love for running is contagious, and I am humbled to learn a lot of things about this sort from them.
I almost didn't run in 2017. My father was sick and hospitalized. During the week prior to the marathon weekend, his conditions was critical. I was also trying my best to adapt to a new job, new household routine, lack of training. Thus even to a day before the marathon, I wasn't sure that I would toe the starting line.
On late Saturday afternoon, my father was getting better. Visiting hours ended in the early evening, and won't start again until noon on the next day. I still have the hotel reservation, and if I rushed after finishing, I could be at the hospital again by 12 pm. So I ran, lack of rest and all, finishing in a personal worst of 5:48:xx.
The main point was that I finished. It was also a full marathon that I will always remember, because it was the last race I ran while my father was still alive. He was the one who drove me to/fro races (in Putrajaya/ Cyberjaya) and to the train stations even in the wee hours when I was so crazy about racing that I would enter every race imaginable in KL on almost every weekend.
So in 2018, I wanted to return to avenge myself. I want to prepare better, run better and preserve that memory of my father. In a way, I think I did all three.
SCKLM 208 took place 6 weeks after Kyoto Marathon 2018. Out of the 6 weekends, I only ran for three. All of them were agonizing: I was slow, and it was scorching hot. I also gained weight, so I was super nervous about SCKLM. But again, anxiety is good, because it means that I still enjoy doing this, day in, day out.
I had a good rest during the week leading to the race: sleeping early (10 pm - wohoo~) most nights and not attempting anything new. Saturday came; ran some errands in the morning, returned at noon, packed and off I went to work. Checked into one of the hotels nearby Dataran Merdeka after 6, went to buy dinner and some staples (water, isotonic drink, chocolate wafers, muffin and cup noodles), shower, ate dinner and forced myself to sleep at 8 pm. Woke up thirsty at 10.30, and had a bit of a trouble to fall back asleep but I managed to after some help from a few drops of lavender essential oil :D
Woke up at 2 and got ready. By 3.10 am, I was out of the hotel, heading to Dataran Merdeka. Located my start pen (was pushed back to Pen 4 this year even though my estimated finish time was the same, due to increased number of runners) and went in search of portable toilets after a short stretching session. They were located wayyyyy at the back this year, but well, got to assure myself (a habit).
When I made it back to starting pens, I was all stretched and warmed up. Tried to sneak into Pen 3 but the official was adamant that I must go to the back. I don't argue with people who did their jobs, so I obliged.
It took me 4 minutes after flag off to cross the timing mat this year, and 15 minutes was allocated for all runners to do so, hence the 7:15 (gun time) pacers/sweepers. I started with a 6:20 min/km pace, with the intention to stay between the 5:00 and 5:30 pace groups. I just say that I love the route better this year, as we got to ran more inside the city center itself, even though it was still dark until after I was already on DUKE highway.
Somehow I managed to catch up to the 5:00 pacers and started running with them. But at KM8 just before we turned to Jalan P Ramlee, I stopped for a toilet break, and was dropped. I was on my own thereafter.
This time, my strategy was less strategic than in Kyoto. Instead of breaking the distance into 5-km sections, I broke SCKLM route into next-water-station segments (around every 2 km) instead. However most of the time it was just about "getting to the next KM marker". I guess being familiar with the route and landmarks in a different capacity (being in a car) made me anticipated the distance to close in faster.
Yet, I love the fact that it wa already almost at KM15 when we turned into Jalan Ampang heading to Jalan Jelatek. I also did not miss AKLEH, and I didn't mind the undulating road heading to DUKE highway. We were on DUKE less than 10 km this year, and my only complaint was that we had to share it with the half marathoners. However, I was glad that they finally got a taste of DUKE too ;)
We reached Jalan Kuching at KM 28, and I couldn't imagine the torture that would follow. Kuala Lumpur could be hilly, with elevated flyovers and if you know where to look. I have heard of the KM32 of the new route, but it was hilly even before that. The elevation leading into Bukit Tunku after PWTC wasn't too bad actually, but the gradual climb was LONG.
But what went up must go down.
I thoroughly enjoyed the longer decline heading out of the pristine green, secluded area into the city, where the route again turned hilly around Sasana Kijang/ Padang Merbok area. This was the time when I started counting the distance every second in my head. I was so glad to see KM 38, and even more elated to see KM 39. Took a short (200 m) walking break as the route turned uphill, before telling myself to start running again because I wasn't done yet.
KM 40 marker was at the usual spot, spurring me into elation. My mood was totally changed from this point on, as I knew that the last hard climb in front of Muzium Negara was up next. My net time was slightly below 5:00, and I had a feeling that I could get 5:15.
There was no way I was going to walk the hill in front of the museum, because I just had to run it. Then came Hotel Majestic and the KM 41 marker. I picked up speed for the last KM, yet it did feel so far away! We had merged with the half marathoners again and I wasn't really in the mood to spoil my mood by zigzagging around them so I maybe I didn't really sprint that fast. But with eyes on the official clock, I tried my best to finish as soon as I can.
5:17:03 gun time
5:13:55 net time
This is the fastest > 5 hours full marathon I've ever ran. I've redeemed myself, for sure, and I hope this is a befitting memory to remember my father by.
March 1, 2018
Misi Maraton #11: Kyoto Marathon 2018 - Part 2
I flew into Osaka on Friday morning and arrived in the late afternoon. Rode on the Haruka and was in Kyoto before it was fully dark. As planned, I went to Miyakomesse to collect my bib before it closed at 8 pm. When I saw the welcoming set up of a huge fan with greetings in various language ("Selamat Datang" included!), it truly dawned on me that yes, I'm doing this, I'm running a full marathon again!
The bib collection process was smooth. The volunteers were cheerful and friendly and in no time at all I followed the route towards the welcoming square. This time around, I decided to hang around and checked out the booths. Got myself two sachets of energy gel too, as I forgot to bring some from home. Collected my pre-ordered Kyoto Marathon t-shirt then drifted to the food area.
The next day was uneventful. I went to Kyoto National Museum and Kyoto Railway Museum, forgoing the initial plan to walk the Tetsugaku no Michi (Philosopher's Path). I also spent some time in a Starbucks in Gion to finally worry about getting to the starting line.
Left at 6.40 am the next morning with a fellow runner staying at the guest house I was staying at. Ash is from Taiwan and she was running the Kyoto Marathon for the second time so I just followed her lead to Kawaramachi station. Had a good talk on the way; she is now doing Teach for Taiwan, after returning from a working holiday as a barista in Banff, Canada. We took the Hankyu train from the center of Kyoto to Nishigyoku, a short train ride away. The stadium was just a short distance from the station.
We got ready at the women's changing station and this time my priority was going to the toilet. Stretched a bit and deposited our baggage bags before the 8.15 am cut off time. Then we headed to the starting blocks. Here I lost Ash, and was on my own.
The weather was nice, but the temperature was very low. The day before it snowed. I didn't really have a plan to stay warm prior to the 9 am flag off, apart from wearing two layers of mild compression shirts, a dry fit short and putting on a disposable rain coat. On the lower half I had a pair leggings and running skirt on. Entering the starting block at around 8.20 am, I was soon left shivering, teeth chattering with the rest of my fellow runners. Thus I stayed in the middle of the pact, where I hoped to "borrow" some of the others' bodily heat. It didn't really work.
My block crossed the starting line about 7 minutes after the flag off and soon we were loose on the street leading to Arashiyama. Even before 1 km in, I stopped for a toilet break. 2 km in, I started to feel warm and took off my gloves. Before the 5 km mark, I took off the rain coat and handed it to the volunteer on the side of the route.
My strategy coming into the marathon was to take it one step at a time. Again I broke the distance into 5-km segment. Then I further divided the segment into 1 km by 1 km. So when I reached 15 km, I would tell myself "let's get to 20 km", but I would also say "but now let's get to 21 km first."
Thus the distance became manageable. I reached 5 km in about 35 minutes, 10 km in around 70 minutes and 18 km in 2 hours. I needed another toilet break but told myself to hold until halfway. Stopped just meters away from the 21 km point though, but made it to 21.2 km in less than 2.5 hours, thankfully.
As usual, my mental got tested after the halfway mark. But fortunately distractions were aplenty. From the beginning, I made sure to high fived young supporters along the way, and also stopped at water stations even though I didn't feel very thirsty. Running in cold weather can be deceiving, thus I would force myself to drink as needed.
I took my first gel as per my usual practice - 1/2 sachet at 10 km, 1/2 sachet at 15 km, 1/2 sachet at 20 km and the last 1/2 sachet at 25 km. Then I refueled with food provided at aid stations which included mikan (orange), yatsuhashi (a Kyoto specialty sweet and my favorite Japanese wagashi), ichigo (strawberry) and a few others.
After KM27, runners were directed into the Kyoto Botanical Garden, where we ran for a good almost 2 km. Then just before KM30, we were directed onto Kamogawa riverbank, which came as a surprised to me as I didn't really study the course map. It was on the riverbank that we reached the "sacred" 32 km mark. For me, that is always a significant mark because right after, the remaining distance is in single digit.
Glancing at my watch (I didn't wear a sports watch - the charger of my Soleus was torn apart and I have no means to recharge its battery, so I did what I always do, just running blind with my Seiko analog watch to indicate the passage of time), it looked like I would be able to make it under 5 hours, if I kept at my pace.
However, things did get harder after KM 35. Before KM37, I was so hungry that I decided to stop if I saw any supporters offering food and drink prior to the enxt water station. My wish was granted, A father and his two sons were handing out cold Coke and umeboshi (pickled plum) by the roadside. I had two cups of the sugar-laden drink and two pieces of delicious umeboshi (they are natural isotonic too) before thanking the father and sons to continue my battle.
Reaching KM 38, I was slowing down significantly that it indicated that I might not even be able to cross the finish line in sub-5 hours net time. We were gradually climbing an incline at the time, and I was just drifting and shuffling along. I kept on reminding myself why I ran, and this time it was for my sanity so I could be better for my family.
Then I heard splatter of footsteps behind me. It sounded like a stampede was about to happen. Who on earth, I wondered, would have this kind of energy at this point in the marathon?
A few seconds later, I was surrounded by the 5:00 pacer group. I just couldn't let them pass me, because that would mean I won't be finishing under 5 hours, gun time. So I attached myself to the group, elbowing other en route as the course started getting narrower.
After KM 40, I decided that I couldn't stand the little too intimate space anymore and took off. Just before the KM41 mark, an official was telling runners "ichi kiroo" (1 km), so at that moment, I knew that I could win the battle.
Took the last turn and saw the finish arch. I saw the clock and knew that I would be finishing under 5 hours. The moment my feet crossed the finish line, I held my hands up and celebrated with a huge grin.
Alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah.
I finished my 11th full marathon, after a confidence-shattering DNF, in an unexpected 4:57:42 (gun time) and 4:50:50 (net time).
The bib collection process was smooth. The volunteers were cheerful and friendly and in no time at all I followed the route towards the welcoming square. This time around, I decided to hang around and checked out the booths. Got myself two sachets of energy gel too, as I forgot to bring some from home. Collected my pre-ordered Kyoto Marathon t-shirt then drifted to the food area.
The next day was uneventful. I went to Kyoto National Museum and Kyoto Railway Museum, forgoing the initial plan to walk the Tetsugaku no Michi (Philosopher's Path). I also spent some time in a Starbucks in Gion to finally worry about getting to the starting line.
Left at 6.40 am the next morning with a fellow runner staying at the guest house I was staying at. Ash is from Taiwan and she was running the Kyoto Marathon for the second time so I just followed her lead to Kawaramachi station. Had a good talk on the way; she is now doing Teach for Taiwan, after returning from a working holiday as a barista in Banff, Canada. We took the Hankyu train from the center of Kyoto to Nishigyoku, a short train ride away. The stadium was just a short distance from the station.
We got ready at the women's changing station and this time my priority was going to the toilet. Stretched a bit and deposited our baggage bags before the 8.15 am cut off time. Then we headed to the starting blocks. Here I lost Ash, and was on my own.
The weather was nice, but the temperature was very low. The day before it snowed. I didn't really have a plan to stay warm prior to the 9 am flag off, apart from wearing two layers of mild compression shirts, a dry fit short and putting on a disposable rain coat. On the lower half I had a pair leggings and running skirt on. Entering the starting block at around 8.20 am, I was soon left shivering, teeth chattering with the rest of my fellow runners. Thus I stayed in the middle of the pact, where I hoped to "borrow" some of the others' bodily heat. It didn't really work.
My block crossed the starting line about 7 minutes after the flag off and soon we were loose on the street leading to Arashiyama. Even before 1 km in, I stopped for a toilet break. 2 km in, I started to feel warm and took off my gloves. Before the 5 km mark, I took off the rain coat and handed it to the volunteer on the side of the route.
My strategy coming into the marathon was to take it one step at a time. Again I broke the distance into 5-km segment. Then I further divided the segment into 1 km by 1 km. So when I reached 15 km, I would tell myself "let's get to 20 km", but I would also say "but now let's get to 21 km first."
Thus the distance became manageable. I reached 5 km in about 35 minutes, 10 km in around 70 minutes and 18 km in 2 hours. I needed another toilet break but told myself to hold until halfway. Stopped just meters away from the 21 km point though, but made it to 21.2 km in less than 2.5 hours, thankfully.
As usual, my mental got tested after the halfway mark. But fortunately distractions were aplenty. From the beginning, I made sure to high fived young supporters along the way, and also stopped at water stations even though I didn't feel very thirsty. Running in cold weather can be deceiving, thus I would force myself to drink as needed.
I took my first gel as per my usual practice - 1/2 sachet at 10 km, 1/2 sachet at 15 km, 1/2 sachet at 20 km and the last 1/2 sachet at 25 km. Then I refueled with food provided at aid stations which included mikan (orange), yatsuhashi (a Kyoto specialty sweet and my favorite Japanese wagashi), ichigo (strawberry) and a few others.
After KM27, runners were directed into the Kyoto Botanical Garden, where we ran for a good almost 2 km. Then just before KM30, we were directed onto Kamogawa riverbank, which came as a surprised to me as I didn't really study the course map. It was on the riverbank that we reached the "sacred" 32 km mark. For me, that is always a significant mark because right after, the remaining distance is in single digit.
Glancing at my watch (I didn't wear a sports watch - the charger of my Soleus was torn apart and I have no means to recharge its battery, so I did what I always do, just running blind with my Seiko analog watch to indicate the passage of time), it looked like I would be able to make it under 5 hours, if I kept at my pace.
However, things did get harder after KM 35. Before KM37, I was so hungry that I decided to stop if I saw any supporters offering food and drink prior to the enxt water station. My wish was granted, A father and his two sons were handing out cold Coke and umeboshi (pickled plum) by the roadside. I had two cups of the sugar-laden drink and two pieces of delicious umeboshi (they are natural isotonic too) before thanking the father and sons to continue my battle.
Reaching KM 38, I was slowing down significantly that it indicated that I might not even be able to cross the finish line in sub-5 hours net time. We were gradually climbing an incline at the time, and I was just drifting and shuffling along. I kept on reminding myself why I ran, and this time it was for my sanity so I could be better for my family.
Then I heard splatter of footsteps behind me. It sounded like a stampede was about to happen. Who on earth, I wondered, would have this kind of energy at this point in the marathon?
A few seconds later, I was surrounded by the 5:00 pacer group. I just couldn't let them pass me, because that would mean I won't be finishing under 5 hours, gun time. So I attached myself to the group, elbowing other en route as the course started getting narrower.
After KM 40, I decided that I couldn't stand the little too intimate space anymore and took off. Just before the KM41 mark, an official was telling runners "ichi kiroo" (1 km), so at that moment, I knew that I could win the battle.
Took the last turn and saw the finish arch. I saw the clock and knew that I would be finishing under 5 hours. The moment my feet crossed the finish line, I held my hands up and celebrated with a huge grin.
Alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah.
I finished my 11th full marathon, after a confidence-shattering DNF, in an unexpected 4:57:42 (gun time) and 4:50:50 (net time).
Misi Maraton #11: Kyoto Marathon 2018 - Part 1
Every marathon has a story. My 11th is not an exception.
I entered the ballot for both Kyoto and Tokyo, both are one week apart. Kyoto is easier to get into, but Tokyo isn't. If I got both, I will run Tokyo, but results were announced far apart and I couldn't wait to decide as accommodation would be scarce during marathon weekend. So I accepted Kyoto, while waiting for Tokyo. In the end, it wasn't my time yet to run Tokyo.
I didn't have the confidence going to Kyoto. Having attempted to do my 11th marathon last year in Putrajaya and failed at KM17, I was scared, and scarred. What if I didn't have what it takes to run a marathon anymore?
Besides, running had been difficult for me in 2016. Apart from time, I was suffering from psychological symptoms when it comes to psyching myself up for a run/race.
Thus when it was a mere 11 weeks from Kyoto Marathon day, I told myself I have to drag myself out for a long run every single weekend. At that time, I had been skipping long run for months. I wouldn't say that the long runs were all enjoyable, as if I had never abandoned it. They weren't, but instead of being super hard, I think it's more about me being rusty.
I did the long runs for 7 weeks in a row. As previous practice, I told myself it's all about the distance. My body needs to adapt to the time it spends running, so that it would learn to turn fuel into energy more efficiently, new capillaries would be form, and my mind would tolerate the toughness.
Then I got sick. So I didn't run for two weekends. The subsequent t weekend was the spent for a pre-planned trip to our hometown.
I read a few articles from Runner’s World, trying to convince myself that I shouldn't be freaking out. For the record, I only run on weekends, the long run on Sundays and a shorter, faster, hillier session the day before.
So when I did my last long run before race day, I put my all into it. That was how I got 23km instead of my usual 21km.
But then I started to feel chest pain. The week before I experienced pain in my left arm. I started googling about signs of heart attack. I spent almost every conscious second figuring out if the sudden pain on my back was another sign that I should be worried. Yet I didn't experience the more tale-telling signs: dizziness, sweating and breathlessness.
All articles I read online emphasized on getting properly checked up. If the pain turns out to be anxiety-induced, great. If not, not so great. But time was running out, and I didn't really want to make a fuss. So I flew to Japan with that nagging fear at the back of my head. I kept on reminding myself to not run too aggressively later, and if it called for it, to stop running and withdraw.
I entered the ballot for both Kyoto and Tokyo, both are one week apart. Kyoto is easier to get into, but Tokyo isn't. If I got both, I will run Tokyo, but results were announced far apart and I couldn't wait to decide as accommodation would be scarce during marathon weekend. So I accepted Kyoto, while waiting for Tokyo. In the end, it wasn't my time yet to run Tokyo.
I didn't have the confidence going to Kyoto. Having attempted to do my 11th marathon last year in Putrajaya and failed at KM17, I was scared, and scarred. What if I didn't have what it takes to run a marathon anymore?
Besides, running had been difficult for me in 2016. Apart from time, I was suffering from psychological symptoms when it comes to psyching myself up for a run/race.
Thus when it was a mere 11 weeks from Kyoto Marathon day, I told myself I have to drag myself out for a long run every single weekend. At that time, I had been skipping long run for months. I wouldn't say that the long runs were all enjoyable, as if I had never abandoned it. They weren't, but instead of being super hard, I think it's more about me being rusty.
I did the long runs for 7 weeks in a row. As previous practice, I told myself it's all about the distance. My body needs to adapt to the time it spends running, so that it would learn to turn fuel into energy more efficiently, new capillaries would be form, and my mind would tolerate the toughness.
Then I got sick. So I didn't run for two weekends. The subsequent t weekend was the spent for a pre-planned trip to our hometown.
I read a few articles from Runner’s World, trying to convince myself that I shouldn't be freaking out. For the record, I only run on weekends, the long run on Sundays and a shorter, faster, hillier session the day before.
So when I did my last long run before race day, I put my all into it. That was how I got 23km instead of my usual 21km.
But then I started to feel chest pain. The week before I experienced pain in my left arm. I started googling about signs of heart attack. I spent almost every conscious second figuring out if the sudden pain on my back was another sign that I should be worried. Yet I didn't experience the more tale-telling signs: dizziness, sweating and breathlessness.
All articles I read online emphasized on getting properly checked up. If the pain turns out to be anxiety-induced, great. If not, not so great. But time was running out, and I didn't really want to make a fuss. So I flew to Japan with that nagging fear at the back of my head. I kept on reminding myself to not run too aggressively later, and if it called for it, to stop running and withdraw.
September 25, 2017
Of Running and Excuses
There are no perfect moments. Sometimes, one just have to confront what's in one's way.I’ve been bad at writing (and ehem, documenting) my running exploit. I initially thought it was me making excuses, but then last week, I received a reply from an Editor I respected and what she said just made sense.
Since my last post about running in Nagoya, I’ve ran Standard Chartered KL Marathon 2017 (FM), Larian Sukan Sea 2017 (15 km), Seoul Smile Run Festival 2017 (21 km) and yesterday Orchid Run and Ride 2017 (12 km), but to be honest, I had no appetite to write, particularly about SCKLM 2017.
The truth is, I ran SCKLM 2017 while my father was hospitalized after a second attack of stroke, which affected the major part of his brain. He was bedridden and unable to move on his own. His conditions deteriorated due to complications and two weeks later, he passed away. Since then, running, which was something I was struggling with in the first place, felt impossible. Hence, writing about it was even more of a chore that I rather not do. I felt fake, I felt insincere, and most importantly – I felt selfish.
Selfish, because I have something to turn to in order to tune myself out. Selfish, because the time I take to be outside is akin to shirking responsibilities at home. Selfish, because I’m alive and well, and someone I love isn’t anymore. Selfish, because I know running makes me happy.
I received a private text from a friend who attended by father’s funeral, and she mentioned that she would like to read posts about my running exploits like before. While I appreciated that little note, my heart just wasn’t at the right place anymore.Still, I was determined to fight. Running has been an integral part of myself. So while I contented myself with shorter distances and forgoing my weekly 21 km LSD so that I could visit my father’s grave on weekends before the sun is too high up, I push myself to lace up and just go.
The Editor, when I apologized for not sending in articles for a long while, said that she understood. I didn’t get it at first. Then I remembered that she herself lost her parent just a week before my father’s passing. As much as I didn’t want to pinpoint and make excuses, I guess, deep down I was, I am affected.
I’m not saying that I’ve resolved all these issues. Some, yes, but some, I still carry them with me. While my running has graduall but I’m still fighting some demons. It’s okay, because life is a battle. One day, I don’t have to fight anymore.
For now, I’m in it to win it.
April 9, 2017
Travelog "Perempuan nan Berlari"
Sebenarnya, saya tidak mengembara solo ke Nagoya bulan lalu. Sebaliknya, saya membawa teman baru, iaitu:
Selain menemani pengambilan race kit, teman baru ini juga ikut saya mendaki di Nakasendo Way. Kami menyaksikan keagaman Gunung Ena:
minum kopi di kedai kopi paling best di Nagoya:
dan juga merasa pengalaman mendaki dalam salji di Magome Pass.
Cerita kembara kami ini dirakam dalam sebuah artikel kembara untuk Travel Times!
Nak baca buku ini?
Jangan lupa cari #perempuannanberlari di Pesta Buku Antarabangsa Kuala Lumpur 2017 dari 28 April sehingga 7 Mei ya!
Selain menemani pengambilan race kit, teman baru ini juga ikut saya mendaki di Nakasendo Way. Kami menyaksikan keagaman Gunung Ena:
minum kopi di kedai kopi paling best di Nagoya:
dan juga merasa pengalaman mendaki dalam salji di Magome Pass.
Cerita kembara kami ini dirakam dalam sebuah artikel kembara untuk Travel Times!
Nak baca buku ini?
Jangan lupa cari #perempuannanberlari di Pesta Buku Antarabangsa Kuala Lumpur 2017 dari 28 April sehingga 7 Mei ya!
March 15, 2017
Nagoya Women's Marathon 2017: A New Personal Best
The unexpected happened last Sunday.
I ran the Nagoya Women’s Marathon 2017, and achieved a new personal best by more than 7 minutes.
If someone told me that I was capable of doing that prior to the race, I would have called the person a bluff. Since started running 4 years ago, I always believed in my training, and this time it was not an exception. My training leading to Nagoya was non-existent, thus when I flew to Japan on Friday, I was just aiming to finish decently.
I wasn’t expecting to complete my ninth full marathon in less than 5 hours, and was secretly hoping it wouldn’t be worst that 5.5 hours. A PB wasn’t even on my mind.
After my first sub-5 FM in Malaysia last November, I was sort of out of tune with running. I was constantly exhausted, traveling almost every month, commuting to/from work every week and stressing out about the weather (it was monsoon season in the East Coast) that my training was severely disrupted.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
I also lost my running mojo. I actually started to hate running. I was questioning if it was worth pursuing, and since it was so hard, why did I even bother?
As someone who took pride at being her own best motivator, this was a glaring red flag. I was hoping to regain my undivided devotion to running by training for Cyberjaya TwinCity Marathon in January, but then I accepted an assignment that would see me be thousands of miles away from Malaysia on race day. I must admit that I was secretly relieved to not be in training mode – not a proud thing to confess about – it’s like being anxious about that big exam when you’re not really in mood to study and finding out that it’s cancelled!
Or rather, postponed.
I applied for the Nagoya Women’s Marathon back in early September when it opened for registration. Around 10 days later, I found out that my application was successful. At that time, there was already a plan to travel to Tokyo for a week in January, and I did question myself many many times whether another trip so close by was justified.
My leave entitlement isn’t generous, and it was still early during the year. Who knows what might happen later, right? And financially, it would definitely cause a dent in my pocket.
But then, I wanted to run Nagoya since 2015, when I first found out about this women-only, the largest in the world of its kind, marathon. Last year, I was envious reading about how it was the race that decided the final line up of Japan’s female marathoners to Rio Olympic. In 2017, the race would be one of the major selection races for the London World Championship marathon team.
Besides, I’d never been tempted to visit Nagoya (just changed trains to Takayama at its main station once), voted by its own residents as the most boring city in Japan, so a sweep through the city on foot would surely be enough to say that I’ve been there, done that?
So, while acknowledging the exorbitant entrance fee, I gritted my teeth and confirmed my participation.
Anyway, back to training.
I realized when I returned from Tokyo in early February that I only had 5 weeks to prepare myself for Nagoya. I managed to shake off some of the lingering laziness, but found myself to be severely unfit. Looked like after a month of not running post a 10 km race just after New Year, my muscles had lost some flexibility. Even stretching was excruciating.
I did some last minute running the 2nd last week before leaving for Nagoya and squeezed in two sessions on the weekend prior: a 16 km on Friday and a 10 km hill run on Sunday. I wasn’t ready, but they would have to do.
On Saturday, my first full day in Japan (I flew from KL on Friday morning, connected at Narita in the late afternoon and arrived in Nagoya when it was already dark), I pushed on and went to hike from Magomejuku to Tsumagojuku, a 7.7 km stretch between two most well-preserved post towns along the Nakasendo.
I rushed back to the city (2 hours by train) and went straight to Nagoya Dome to collect my race kit (or as they called it – runner’s check in). The international runners were directed to the Higashi Sports Center instead but the whole process was a breeze. With a bib in hand, I could breath easier.
The next morning, I left for Nagoya Dome with other two girls who were also staying at the same hostel. They were Keiko from Hiroshima and Venus from Hong Kong. Somehow we clicked so well, that I actually didn’t really freaked out at the fact that we left quite late than what would have been ideal. Rookie mistake No. 1.
Rookie mistake No. 2: we underestimated the time it would take to get to Nagoya Dome. When we arrived, it was already 8.15 a.m, less than an hour from the 9.10 am start. The place was just so packed, and after bidding the girls goodbye (it was unlikely that we’d see each other again), I quickly bundled up my jackets and shoved them together with my backpack into the huge baggage bag. Then I joined the throng of runners to the baggage storage are. There were no gaps to overtake anyone, because the tunnel leading to the designated were full to the brim!
I still had to use the toilet after that. And stretch and warm up. But the former trumped the latter so I joined the super long queue for the portable potties. At this point, it was maybe less than 30 minutes to start time. Rookie mistake No. 3.
Guess where I was when the gun went off for the elites?
Yep, in the toilet.
I ran to join other runners, and was lucky to be able to sneak in front of my designated starting block. We crossed the starting line 8 minutes after the first gun, with well wishes of “itte rasshai” and “ganbare.”
I didn’t remember the first half of the race much. I wasn’t even really looking at the watch, except to ensure they were working. What I could clearly recall was that I was really really thirsty during the first 5 km. Hence, it was a surprise to find myself making it to the 10 km mark under 1 hour (58:xx).
It was a good pace that I could hold. I saw the 5:00:00 pacers and tried to follow their pace, but I was feeling too good to slow down so early so I went on. My plan was not get passed by them. At this point, I started to envision that maybe a sub-5 finish might not be entirely impossible.
Just before reaching the halfway mark at Shirakawa Park, I had the pleasure of witnessing the men’s half marathon winner sprinting towards the ribbon. A few minutes later, I saw Eunice Kirwa sprinted to her third Nagoya title in a row, closely tailed by a debutante, Yuka Ando, who went on to be the 4th fastest female Japanese marathoner ever.
I made it to 21.1km at 2:07:xx, a personal best.
I then took a slightly longer break – toilet, gel, putting on music.
The hardest interval for me was always the 20 to 30 km stretch. After working hard during the 1st half, I couldn’t help feeling that I deserved a break. Hence I started take longer walking break at water stations, which, together with the long toilet break, burst my sub-30 min for every 5 km.
But I kept telling myself to relax. I was too consumed at getting a sub-5, that I was tensed without realizing it. I relaxed shoulders, talking myself into taking it easy and felt improvements almost instantly. I paid attention to my posture, and caught myself every time I started to slouch. It was such a relief to reach the 30 km mark.
I hadn’t said anything about the supporters and volunteers, and I apologized.
They were the best part of the marathon. I loved their contagious energy: some of them were very young, some were older than my grandparents when they passed way, but they were out in full force, making it a pleasant day for me to be out there and running their city; a city that was on shut down, because some crazy 20, 000 women wanted to run on its streets.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
The world looked brighter when I passed the 32 km mark. Juu ki-ro (10 km) more. I took another toilet break, a much shorter one this time. At KM 34, it was about 1:15:xx to 5 hours. I was excited but tried to contain myself. I knew if I kept at my current pace, I could make it under 5 hours. But by how much – well, I really didn’t want to speculate just yet.
I believed that if something was mine, I would eventually get it. But if it wasn’t, then even if it was already within my grasp, I would lose it. Thus, I really didn’t want to think of a PB when I could trip and fell down on my face anytime.
But I’m not going to lie, the mile came easier after that 30 km mark. When it was only 4 km from the finish line, I picked up my pace a little bit. I couldn’t really sprint yet as I didn’t have that much gas left. I tried my best to suppress my thoughts on a possible PB.
I only truly ran faster during the final kilometer. Upon entering the dome, I could see the watch displaying 4:49:xx. I was surprised. I sprinted, determined to cross the line before the clock turned 4:50:00.
And I did it.
My net time was 4:40:50.
I couldn’t help thinking – if I could do this without proper training and conditioning, what is possible if proper efforts are a part of the plan?
I ran the Nagoya Women’s Marathon 2017, and achieved a new personal best by more than 7 minutes.
If someone told me that I was capable of doing that prior to the race, I would have called the person a bluff. Since started running 4 years ago, I always believed in my training, and this time it was not an exception. My training leading to Nagoya was non-existent, thus when I flew to Japan on Friday, I was just aiming to finish decently.
I wasn’t expecting to complete my ninth full marathon in less than 5 hours, and was secretly hoping it wouldn’t be worst that 5.5 hours. A PB wasn’t even on my mind.
After my first sub-5 FM in Malaysia last November, I was sort of out of tune with running. I was constantly exhausted, traveling almost every month, commuting to/from work every week and stressing out about the weather (it was monsoon season in the East Coast) that my training was severely disrupted.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
I also lost my running mojo. I actually started to hate running. I was questioning if it was worth pursuing, and since it was so hard, why did I even bother?
As someone who took pride at being her own best motivator, this was a glaring red flag. I was hoping to regain my undivided devotion to running by training for Cyberjaya TwinCity Marathon in January, but then I accepted an assignment that would see me be thousands of miles away from Malaysia on race day. I must admit that I was secretly relieved to not be in training mode – not a proud thing to confess about – it’s like being anxious about that big exam when you’re not really in mood to study and finding out that it’s cancelled!
Or rather, postponed.
I applied for the Nagoya Women’s Marathon back in early September when it opened for registration. Around 10 days later, I found out that my application was successful. At that time, there was already a plan to travel to Tokyo for a week in January, and I did question myself many many times whether another trip so close by was justified.
My leave entitlement isn’t generous, and it was still early during the year. Who knows what might happen later, right? And financially, it would definitely cause a dent in my pocket.
But then, I wanted to run Nagoya since 2015, when I first found out about this women-only, the largest in the world of its kind, marathon. Last year, I was envious reading about how it was the race that decided the final line up of Japan’s female marathoners to Rio Olympic. In 2017, the race would be one of the major selection races for the London World Championship marathon team.
Besides, I’d never been tempted to visit Nagoya (just changed trains to Takayama at its main station once), voted by its own residents as the most boring city in Japan, so a sweep through the city on foot would surely be enough to say that I’ve been there, done that?
So, while acknowledging the exorbitant entrance fee, I gritted my teeth and confirmed my participation.
Anyway, back to training.
I realized when I returned from Tokyo in early February that I only had 5 weeks to prepare myself for Nagoya. I managed to shake off some of the lingering laziness, but found myself to be severely unfit. Looked like after a month of not running post a 10 km race just after New Year, my muscles had lost some flexibility. Even stretching was excruciating.
I did some last minute running the 2nd last week before leaving for Nagoya and squeezed in two sessions on the weekend prior: a 16 km on Friday and a 10 km hill run on Sunday. I wasn’t ready, but they would have to do.
On Saturday, my first full day in Japan (I flew from KL on Friday morning, connected at Narita in the late afternoon and arrived in Nagoya when it was already dark), I pushed on and went to hike from Magomejuku to Tsumagojuku, a 7.7 km stretch between two most well-preserved post towns along the Nakasendo.
I rushed back to the city (2 hours by train) and went straight to Nagoya Dome to collect my race kit (or as they called it – runner’s check in). The international runners were directed to the Higashi Sports Center instead but the whole process was a breeze. With a bib in hand, I could breath easier.
The next morning, I left for Nagoya Dome with other two girls who were also staying at the same hostel. They were Keiko from Hiroshima and Venus from Hong Kong. Somehow we clicked so well, that I actually didn’t really freaked out at the fact that we left quite late than what would have been ideal. Rookie mistake No. 1.
Rookie mistake No. 2: we underestimated the time it would take to get to Nagoya Dome. When we arrived, it was already 8.15 a.m, less than an hour from the 9.10 am start. The place was just so packed, and after bidding the girls goodbye (it was unlikely that we’d see each other again), I quickly bundled up my jackets and shoved them together with my backpack into the huge baggage bag. Then I joined the throng of runners to the baggage storage are. There were no gaps to overtake anyone, because the tunnel leading to the designated were full to the brim!
I still had to use the toilet after that. And stretch and warm up. But the former trumped the latter so I joined the super long queue for the portable potties. At this point, it was maybe less than 30 minutes to start time. Rookie mistake No. 3.
Guess where I was when the gun went off for the elites?
Yep, in the toilet.
I ran to join other runners, and was lucky to be able to sneak in front of my designated starting block. We crossed the starting line 8 minutes after the first gun, with well wishes of “itte rasshai” and “ganbare.”
I didn’t remember the first half of the race much. I wasn’t even really looking at the watch, except to ensure they were working. What I could clearly recall was that I was really really thirsty during the first 5 km. Hence, it was a surprise to find myself making it to the 10 km mark under 1 hour (58:xx).
It was a good pace that I could hold. I saw the 5:00:00 pacers and tried to follow their pace, but I was feeling too good to slow down so early so I went on. My plan was not get passed by them. At this point, I started to envision that maybe a sub-5 finish might not be entirely impossible.
Just before reaching the halfway mark at Shirakawa Park, I had the pleasure of witnessing the men’s half marathon winner sprinting towards the ribbon. A few minutes later, I saw Eunice Kirwa sprinted to her third Nagoya title in a row, closely tailed by a debutante, Yuka Ando, who went on to be the 4th fastest female Japanese marathoner ever.
I made it to 21.1km at 2:07:xx, a personal best.
I then took a slightly longer break – toilet, gel, putting on music.
The hardest interval for me was always the 20 to 30 km stretch. After working hard during the 1st half, I couldn’t help feeling that I deserved a break. Hence I started take longer walking break at water stations, which, together with the long toilet break, burst my sub-30 min for every 5 km.
But I kept telling myself to relax. I was too consumed at getting a sub-5, that I was tensed without realizing it. I relaxed shoulders, talking myself into taking it easy and felt improvements almost instantly. I paid attention to my posture, and caught myself every time I started to slouch. It was such a relief to reach the 30 km mark.
I hadn’t said anything about the supporters and volunteers, and I apologized.
They were the best part of the marathon. I loved their contagious energy: some of them were very young, some were older than my grandparents when they passed way, but they were out in full force, making it a pleasant day for me to be out there and running their city; a city that was on shut down, because some crazy 20, 000 women wanted to run on its streets.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
The world looked brighter when I passed the 32 km mark. Juu ki-ro (10 km) more. I took another toilet break, a much shorter one this time. At KM 34, it was about 1:15:xx to 5 hours. I was excited but tried to contain myself. I knew if I kept at my current pace, I could make it under 5 hours. But by how much – well, I really didn’t want to speculate just yet.
I believed that if something was mine, I would eventually get it. But if it wasn’t, then even if it was already within my grasp, I would lose it. Thus, I really didn’t want to think of a PB when I could trip and fell down on my face anytime.
But I’m not going to lie, the mile came easier after that 30 km mark. When it was only 4 km from the finish line, I picked up my pace a little bit. I couldn’t really sprint yet as I didn’t have that much gas left. I tried my best to suppress my thoughts on a possible PB.
I only truly ran faster during the final kilometer. Upon entering the dome, I could see the watch displaying 4:49:xx. I was surprised. I sprinted, determined to cross the line before the clock turned 4:50:00.
And I did it.
My net time was 4:40:50.
I couldn’t help thinking – if I could do this without proper training and conditioning, what is possible if proper efforts are a part of the plan?
December 19, 2016
"Rumah" Hadiah Utama Cerpen HSKU 2015
Alhamdulillah, cerpen “Rumah” telah memenangi Hadiah Utama Kategori Cerpen Umum Hadiah Sastera Kumpulan Utusan 2015 yang diumumkan pada 25 Novemner 2016 yang lalu.
Sungguh, saya tidak menyangka “Rumah” akan memenangi Hadiah Utama. Dinilai sebagai cerpen umum/dewasa sudah cukup menyukakan saya – semenjak kali pertama cerpen disiarkan Mingguan Malaysia pada tahun 2008, sebetulnya inilah kali pertama karya saya disenaraikan dalam kategori berkenaan.
Saya telah mencuba pelbagai formula untuk membebaskan diri daripada kategori Cerpen Remaja, seperti menampilkan watak dewasa dan juga tema yang biasanya tidak dibincangkan golongan remaja, namun tetap tidak berjaya. Akhirnya saya memutuskan untuk menulis sahaja. Saya sekadar penulis, sednagkan penilaian, pengkategorian dan anugerah sekalipun, bukanlah kerja saya.
“Maraton Kampung” yang menang Hadiah Utama tahun lalu di HSKU, juga dikategorikan sebagai cerpen remaja, namun saya setuju dengan pengkategorian itu. Memang cerpen itu mempunyai unsur remaja melalui cara penyampaiannya. Namun saya tetap bersyukur, kerana selepas hampir 10 tahun dan beberapa kali disenaraipendek, akhirnya, ada juga cerpen saya yang ‘sangkut’ HSKU.
Walaupun pernah memenangi HSKU 2010 dalam kategori novel remaja, saya lebih menganggap diri sebagai penulis cerpen. Tambah pula, kolam kategori cerpen lebih besar dan saingan lebih terbuka antara pengarang pelbagai usia dan kematangan kepengarangan. Justeru, saya ingin diuji dan teruji di gelanggang ini.
“Rumah” saya tulis dengan lancar. Ideanya saya fikir sudah lama bergulir, cuma bentuk dan acuan yang sesuai mengambil masa. Apabila semuanya muat dan padan, cerpen ini tidak mengambil masa yang lama untuk disudahkan. Saya harus akui, menulis “Rumah” memberi kepuasan luar biasa; saya tidak pernah melihat diri sebagai seorang penulis yang akan menyentuh isu-isu politik tempatan. Malah, saya melihat tema sedemikian adalah forte pengarang lelaki.
Namun, persekitaran dan usia barangkali mendesak dalam senyap. Apabila sampai ketikanya, cerita itu akan mengalir sendiri.
Dan ia juga sudah ditakdirkan rezekinya.
Semasa di atas pentas selepas pusingan pertama mengambil hadiah, saya tenang-tenang sahaja di sisi Siti Jasmina Ibrahim. Penantian untuk saat bangun, berjalan dan naik ke pentas sudah tamat, dan saya ingin menikmati ketikanya. Tetapi, pengacara majlis kemudiannya mengumumkan “Rumah” memenangi hadiah utama! Allahuakbar!
Kini, saya takut dengan tanggungjawab yang menanti. Anugerah hadir dengan amanah. Tahun 2016, saya tidak punya satu cerpen pun di mana-mana penerbitan. Saya sudah tidak boleh menulis seperti mana saya mengarang “Rumah”, “Rumah Baru Firma Besar”, “Rumah Datuk” dan “Rumah Kopi.”
Walaupun agak resah, namun saya cuba untuk tidak terlalu khuatir. Setiap pengarang mempunyai cara kerja dan matlamat kepengarangan masing-masing; meskipun saya sedang mengambil masa, saya harap kegersangan karya ini tidak berlarut lama.
Semoga Allah mempermudahkan.
“Rumah” boleh dibaca disini.
“Rumah Kopi” turut disaring ke peringkat akhir dalam kategori yang sama, dan boleh dibaca di sini.
