Hidden Pain

Something must have hit me such that even though I haven't been running for more than a year, I nevertheless decided to plunge into the 4.2km run round Bedok Reservoir on Wednesday during the school cross country event. I didn't plan on winning anything, but just gain that extra 20 points for the Blue Eagles with my participation. Plus, the thought of a run equates to some "me" time I so lack these days.

Armed with my ipod, handphone (just in case there were some casualties along the way) and my newly-glued up track shoes (the soles were flapping off when I was in India), I paced myself to a slow but steady run. I hadn't hydrated myself well when I started. I thought we'd be provided with the HI Spirit, but nope.

Down at the 3km mark, the sun was shining strong on me and I began to feel dehydrated. I felt my heart pounding in my brain. Pain. I knew I had to slow down and get hydrated, and thankfully I managed to get some from some students stationed in between the route. But it was too late. The pounding continued with every step I took. But I persevered. I just had one thing in mind - finish the race.

I was proud when I reached the finishing line in 30 minutes, third in position in the Women's category of the teacher's race. Not too bad considering I didn't train nor exercise for the past year! Plus I'm 31 years old!

The next few days saw me enduring the pain on my lower body - legs, hamstrings, calves, thighs. It hurt when I walked up or down the stairs, but I endured it all. This may sound masochistic but the pain reflected some form of achievement only I could fully understand.

I guess that's a reflection of my life right now too. Hidden pain.