The Things That I Have To Do

And they are many. With three more days to rejoining the dusty track around the world, I have loads to do. Notwithstanding is the list of the must-do's that I have already planned for (some half, some done) for our big move to Down Under in fourth quarter next year. The real back bending exercise is trying to squeeze in all the don't-forget's before the big kick-off.

The dogs. The backpack. What to buy / dump / pack / store. Clean the fridge. Time the laundry basket. Get the medicine kit. Have lunch. Print documents. And that's the beginning, or so they say right?

Don't get me wrong. It's all exciting. I just am flabbergasted that after an initial warm-up around Europe, I thought by simplifying the "things" to do i.e. reducing to a smaller backpack and determining myself to survive on it solely for the next 8 months of my life will help - eeeyykk! Wrong! Small stuff matters and they have a way of creeping up to you.

I'm having a mix of feelings. I am over the moon because I can't wait to test out the photography projects that I have in mind after researching and putting together some simple briefs. I can't wait to find out at the end of it, would I have material to form the best year yet for my photography (I think so), would I have enough to make my coveted coffee table books (definitely) and would I have enough to make into DVDs as a token to memorise the to-be's in perpetuity (why leave it in the time machine?). I miss my dogs tremendously. I am already breaking all the rules in asserting my alpha position in the pack. What to do? I am only human, and they are after all, dogs and they have a knack in sensing when I am most vulnerable to be taken advantage of! I can't wait to get out of the country to see the world out there. I can't wait to find out about life. I can't wait to jump into potholes and out of them. I can't wait to trek the desert on the camel trek with my beloved. I can't wait to live the best life of my life.

Sometimes, maybe it just pays to throw away the planner.

What Goes On Inside The Men's!

The real hot-blooded man that I want is on the left...

Strange things happen on the other side. The dark side.

I was having a gruelling session yesterday with my trainer albeit a motivating one. Being female, it's something to whack 5,200 punches in hard core fight club impact (okay, perhaps I was thinking too much of a Norton-wannabe, but it's still no baby punches that I was trying to block away from my trainer), planks, push-ups and weight circuits in quiet discipline. No argument. Just do it mentality. Make no mistake, I love being a glutton for this sort of punishment. Sleep like a log and does wonders in keeping my restless mind slightly focus... that's until I need to head back to working out again within 48 hours!

But outside of my 2-hour workout, weird stories start to leak out. From the men's room.

And this is where I am a bit lost. Hence, my hubby takes on the role of explaining it in finer details to me. Although I may have to agree with him that things in the female's locker room make up for the "claws out there" in its subtlety, I am still dumbfounded with the audacity of blatant display in the male's locker room that will put your kindergarten's nun to a rosy red blush.

Case in point. You (the man - and assume, a decent, non-egocentric one at that) came out of the shower, ready to go into the steam room. What laid between you and the path to hot ethereal water therapy was two chunks of gluteus attached like those alien spawns on a tree trunk of a man. Naked, barring one tiny napkin of a towel that he casually hung around his Tasmanian region, he just stood there.

You saw an opening when another fellow homo sapien (bless this brave boy) casually interjected the meditating naked display of muscles by opening the steam room's door, you jumped at following the line inside - making a concrete effort to avoid touching an iota of any birthday suit. So you thought it was over quite quickly. Sitting inside the steam room, you were disappearing in between the gentle caress of the fresh steam snaking in (no pun) and you were almost closing your eyes... but wait a minute. What in the blessed Earth was staring at you and your compatriot? The holy trinity resulting from your very naked friend standing on the outside, only this time he was pressing his chest and groin areas onto the glass panel of the door. Now we have all been through this game of planting our faces on glass windows to see how ridiculous we looked. Need I remind you of that visual? Now think about this inconsiderate bull that was toasting himself on the steam room's door. What was he thinking... that he was getting a bit nippy and thought of warming his bits off? Disgusting!

Case in point again. You were totally wiped out in a workout. Your muscles were begging for a good relaxation. You decided to sit in the steam room (sorry, you have been warned). You (the unsuspecting man) walked in, sat down. Another man came in. Nothing to worry, right? In a most gallant (not!) fashion he whipped off his waist towel like Leonidas would do in front of his queen in their chambers, except that you are no queen to no man (for Pete's sake, you're a man!). Of all the many square inches of sitting space, he had to sit directly opposite you on a perfect line. So this baboon was leaning back like a complete alpha, enjoying obviously your discomfort. Where were you going to turn your sight? Praying that the steam machine would blast off more stuff to blanket off the ugly sight in front of you, you summoned religiously a vigour that you thought you had lost (chant goes something like "please, please..."). Just when you thought things were going to not get any worse, Murphy's Law descended upon us mere mortals. Your new nemesis suddenly had itchy hand. Note: if you are offended easily by real field reporting, please stop reading now - the baboon decided to let his hand do the nice-to-meet-you-hand-shake with his willy. What? The room was too hot that he got turned on too? Filthy! Blasphemous! Condemned! Rot!

Case in point final. Some men just had to walk around the locker room naked. Fine, you just go about with half-closed eyes as quickly as you could. These moon flashers were so proud and confident of their booties that they deliberately took each careful step on the tiled floor hard and sent the shock waves up in full ripple on their maximus gluteus. I rest my case.

So, it may seem that the females are a boring lot, but we sure look better coming out of the showers because we keep our towels on! Less is more, I think?

But it sure isn't so much fun. Especially when you are reporting on the side! Not sure if modernisation has turned a lot of men confused. But I choose a real lad anytime. And honey, thank you for being just that.

I Should Feel So Lucky

And I do! I do!

As I look down at the last bit of vanilla drizzled Kellogg's K-bar on my top, I thought to myself "ah, how lucky!" - I had two of those since woofing down (read in order): a chocolate protein shake, a 6-inch seafood dreamy Subway, and a mega muscle builder (just strawberries, bananas, soy milk and low-fat ice cream whip). Those K-bar yummies still tasted delectable!

I got whacked today. You probably could tell from how I go about eating in a shot... kind of like a zombie on revenge huh? My body bemused me. I've never really been a big appetite person but boy do I love my gourmet indulgence. So this episode was rare. However I like to stretch the fact that it was all pretty healthy. Sigh... after all the hard work, I seriously don't want to waste all those effort, sweat, blood and feel-good rush!

I punch 1500 today. In one shot. And I sling up to 3000 for the day. I did the run sprint km (broke my previous record, woo hoo!) / bike sprint 1km (missed my previous PB by 2 seconds, boo boo!) / 500m row (I wanted to puke). I did full squats with weights today amongst the other usual suspects. For 2 hours, I pushed myself as if I was running away from the advancing barrage of Leonidas and his 300 (on that account, maybe I should join them instead?).

It's the eve of another long holiday week typical in this country. There will be copious amount of sinful delights to whoop down, with all these eating and drinking around (and that's only at the last night for those observing the fasting for their faith!) and temptations in the form of shopping... "darling, I think we do need another silver dish for those banana fritters with coconut cream and caramel drizzle when the Razaks come to visit..." Bum, bum, bum...

And we, knowing the battle at Thermopylae (heee! It's our local gym lah!) we still soldiered on! I am so proud of my man. He kicked ass, a real machine. He is my real life inspiration. I am very lucky to be surrounded by so many good reminders to not quit. You may not come first, but you must finish. No ifs, no buts. So punisher I am not (working on that) but finisher (and a fine one at that!) I am.

I am lucky because as tired as a sleepy beast as I am, I feel good enough to go for another session tomorrow. Body probably isn't willing but my heart is big on it.

I am lucky because I am still racing against myself in 3 x 2-hour wipe out sessions weekly. I see many others who are battling their own struggle with the unkind remains of a stroke, trying to regain back mobility amongst me in the cardio area, and I say a quiet prayer of thought and thanks.

I am lucky because a power nap actually makes me more human again tonight!

I am lucky that hubby is making a delicious lamb stew tonight (I heard it's Moroccan, not sure if he's going to dress up).

I am lucky that the dogs had just stormed back from day care with their love for me.

I am lucky that I am just me.

I'm A Junkie

When you hit upon something really good... not just a "feel good" but seriously changes how you feel and think, you hold on to it.

You feel superb because of it. Your body thank you for it. Your mind loves you for it. Heck, even your dogs look at you differently because you seem, well... the better because of it. You look at your mirror image and you see power, strength, trust, belief, and determination.

Motivated, you bounce off from the platform back to normality and then you realise that being a fitness junkie does include more than pumping full squats with iron. You come to question yourself.

You think you're fit enough? Think again. You can always work harder.

You aren't sure that you can do it? You find yourself telling yourself back that you just need to do 2 x 10km and a one-time 3 x hill intervals (non-stop ya?).

You are disappointed that those guns aren't looking more popped. You tell yourself to be patient.

You want to think ahead. You tell yourself to concentrate on the game plan at sight.

You get distracted by me-too's that irritated the hell out of your day. You cheerlead yourself to focus on your own race (after all, making them eat your dust is the best kak kak!).

You realise you aren't perfect. Then you tell yourself that you are a good person at heart, others can judge whatever you say or think or act - let amongst you to cast the first stone if... get it?

What I have discovered that I can do 2-hour kick-ass cardio every alternate day (and improve upon every session) plus big boys weight lifts. I keep the inertia going with self sessions in between. I get moving out of the house, run the fields. I make excuses to not chicken out from the rain so I can do at least a full loop (okay, it was only a warm-up today as the thunder threatened to fry me up!). I want to go pump those guns. Strength is sexy. Sweating it out, taking care of my health is sexy. Feeling fitter than I had been compared to 10 years ago is super sexy!

And I am doing this for self gratification. The image is of one of my favourite inspirations. Anna-Rina is her name and junkie is her game. It feels good to wish another female compatriot well in the journey towards a stronger self-discovery. One of true substance, laughter, self appreciation, and most of all... to many more years of pure healthy living. Also to Mighty Sherry - you rock! You don't let fasting, kuih-muih, kids and a busy schedule blast you off your track. You keep the momentum up. A quiet little lady who lifts 150kg and finishes her machine circuit within 30 minutes holds me respect. You guys are truly my lighthouses!

Cheer for us, y'all! I'm hitting the circuit session tomorrow to beat my run / bike sprint / row and weights from the last session. Feel the burn, feel it!

Or... like I say always, "last chance!".

Two Weeks Counting!

Oh, where has time gone?

I haven't exactly been dozing off under a cushy cave. But a lot has happened since the last entry. Remember back to the days when you were still wearing that tiny pansy of a school uniform (yes, the one that your pair of chopstick legs were sticking out?) and it was the beautiful last day of school for the year?

Yes, the air was warm. Your mates and you were beyond control. Classroom chattering rose to a level undecipherable akin to a jet taking off. Your mind wandered off to how best you can spend your soggy RM1 note tucked away in the gloomy crevice of your pocket. Should I have two sticks of squid satay and a bag of coloured cordial? Or should I buy an ice cream cone and a packet of "Kiss Me" sweets (I kid you not), or perhaps I can coerce my mate to combine her share of our measly income and conquer the canteen world? After all, gluttony was one of the seven deadly sins that led mankind to so much. Just take a look around you!

The day felt unreal, rapidly slow. Then the teacher walked in with a stack of white report cards. You feigned shock, horror, anxiety! Of course you didn't expect to score well, after all, you never really studied well ahead of the final examinations, right? You put on a James Dean's I-couldn't-care-less-if-my-dad-rotan-me look... and presto! You actually did not bad... top ten of the year. All right, perhaps a pocket money increment is in store for next year?

And so, there we stood, coming out of Koh Samui's airport. The day held out her promise of a good time like some warm nuggets of sweet smelling jasmine buds wrapped in a delicate piece of silk. Your happiness for the next 48 hours unfolded in front of you in such a dainty manner that you were almost afraid to yell out of excitement, fearing that you may accidentally blow the magic out of your face and waking up to something far less pleasant.

So the last minute examination cramping was equivalent to the hoards of nightmare that I had to deal with in settling some photography clients' order and enquiries. Liaising with my network of suppliers and playing the role of a rubber ball being tossed from one customer service officer to another when I rang up the logistics company.

Our 48 hour sojourn in Koh Samui was the spectrum opposite in the form of a blissful short trip to our resort, Bhundari. Room was nice and neat. Hey, the bathtub even opens up to the bedroom... how naughty! Not that we spent a lot of time waddling in it (no time!) as there were two pools to conquer, with one that instilled the tedious workout of swimming to the pool bar. Pina Colada never tasted so good. Seriously, they worked up a stiff one and under the sunshine, sunblock and chlorine water, you would find yourself being embraced by the fluffy touch of heaven all over again when the second glass gets drained. How do I know? From the sound of the last remaining droplets being vacuumed through the pink straw.

Now there is nothing much to say about the Thai cuisine, except that you should be shot for not trying. It has to be one of the best inventions since sliced bread (thick cuts please). Although we went mad tucking into our usual suspects of tom yum goong, pad kha prao, grilled tiger prawns in tamarind sauce, coconut milk-inspired dishes such as (this is my top voted dish) the tom kha goong (I can bath and drink at the same time!). The trick is to stay away from the resorts. Take a tuk tuk, negotiated a fair price around RM10 one way and you get this pick-up / ute that usually belongs to a local family on their way down town for some grub too. They drop you off when you ring the bell. Can't be easier!

Koh Samui, being the spa capital of this Land of Smiles, did not fail our aching muscles, pounded by weeks of lactic producing workouts. Again, avoid the resorts. Yes, if you like to be a sucker for the distractions such as thai music tinkling faintly from some Bose speakers, a stalk of lilies in the lobby and a shower, okay then, go spend ten times more in a resort's spa. Otherwise, if you are like us, hardcore metal pushers, you just want your meridian points soothed by the gentle firm touches of the experts. Head nowhere except Chaweng Street and there is a personal favourite of mine, unit 163/167 called "Orchid". Foot massage and half body, a two-hour escape that put me back by RM100. Seriously, I came out all ready to get into more action. Now, should I had come to Koh Samui with the image of paying for some luxurious resort getaway, fair enough, Orchid may disappoint. It was clean, neat and no dodgy business going on. But if you want to maximise your next 48 hours, then you couldn't have come to a better place. As you stepped out, turn left towards more eating places. We got to chill out at some stunning beach side beauties but my top vote again went to "Ninja 24" - the reason? Cheap, local eats, which unfortunately had been discovered too much by the local farang that lived off the island. Albeit, the food was spectacular and being a stickler for the perfect sticky rice (no pun), their warm mango with sticky rice came up perfect score of 10/10.

We're excited and refreshed coming back to KL. It was a special way to celebrate our second anniversary. We took a ute to see a real, blood-banging muay thai fight. We did elephant jungle trekking, waterfall swims and ate like rabid wolves. I know it's not your usual candle-lit dinner but then again, I never do usual.

Hubby went to lengths to arrange a special surprise that came in a little box. How he managed to sneak it on the bed (turn-down service included) while we were out the whole day in the jungle amazed me... but somethings are best left to a little bit of magic I reckon, don't you think? Suffice to say, I'm wearing the special surprise from the little chocolate-coloured box with a lot of love.

Perhaps when you come into your second year together, you do appreciate even more that I-love-you takes the form of more than three words said before bedtime. It's a continuous expression of your devotion in the consistent passage of time.

And with two more weeks to go until we head back to the dusty road of travelling, I sign off here with lots of love to you all.

My Favourite September

Think about your most favourite moment that stays with you like a lingering kiss, the waft of the Sunday coffee roast, reminding you of the soft caress of a mother's hand on your head just before you fell asleep.

Of all the many things and experiences that define your life, this moment comes fleetingly because life, is after all, getting chaotic and busy. However it never fails to remind you of how cherished life can be, how the tiny things that unselfishly stood faithful awaiting your return to its embrace that matter, how silly it is to sweat over the banal things in life. Small things, minute movements, a split second that all change your world. It is the better because of it.

I love September.

Even how it sounds is just music to my ears. Maybe September carries with her a lot of beautiful memories. Sydney. Koh Phi Phi. A time to remember of all the watershed moments. When you commit your life to the most special person in yours. Realising what you have. Be overwhelmed by the power of love. Be touched deep in your heart of a person's faithfulness, loyalty, patience, consideration and most of all, to also respect his values and his stride. How many do you need who will stop theirs to stand for you? You really only need one, but oh, tell me about it - how difficult it is to meet someone whom is touched by God?

Hence, September celebrates my falling in helpless bliss into the arms of one of God's angels.

And this month, marks the coming of two years for one of our dogs - Tommy! He's turning two! We love you, you nutty little thug that has brought so much joy to our lives. Thank you for being you and just bringing a ray of light into everything. I even love your dog smell kisses... seriously!