Puncture

The title maybe misleading

It is actually

People will associate this post with a tyre... a rubber wheel... an inflatable hollow round black contraption that can be filled with high-pressured air....

But no. It is not about tyre or a wheel of misfortunre that hit a nail and PSSSHHHHTTTTTT!!!! Habis anging...

It is about my lungs. About the air that circulates within me. About my stamina to run the distance.

I have decided to enter a race. A 10 kilometre race if I understand correctly. This would be a 'joint venture' with the ever so white and determined Mary Ann Michael.
(SHOW ME DA WAY MARY!!!!)

Anywayz, regarding the puncture... I am actually referring to the slang commonly used by Malays... where the direct translation would be PANCIT! I ran this morning... and two mornings before... the end result is PANCIT! I simply cant get my act together to NOT actually lose my breath to the max.

Ok... some might argue that losing breath is part of the running routine. But it seems that I'm losing it a wee bit to fast. Heheh. And at the end of things (which is only a 20 min mid-intensity interval workout)... it seems like my lungs are going to burst. NO! Not PANCIT! I mean like explode here.

But... come to think of it... this is usually what happens when someone starts to RE-activate their lives. From dorman to moving :) From semi-couch potato to semi-marathon runner. From Glutton-to-be to Controller-of-food-intake-man (ok... I cannot come up with a good name for dat one)...

Anywayz... the journey is beginning... again. HAH! And hopefully and WILLfully... I will become the Francesco Castano or Jeremy Likness or even Tom Venuto that I want to be. Okes!!!!!!

Samdulikaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Assalam-aleykom-Warohmatullaaahi-Wabaro-kaatuh.