Mizuno Wave Run 2007

6.00am: "You guys are crazy! It's 7am on a rainy Sunday morning, and 8,000 of you are gathered here waiting to run in the rain!" the DJ yelled over the P.A system, "it's incredible!"

"Yeah, right. I'm one crazy guy, man!" I thought to myself. Temasek Poly Sports Complex was full of men, women, boys, girls, even old men and women all gathered for one purpose: To finish 10km round Bedok Reservoir, Tampines and Bedok estate. 8,000 insane people, and I was among them.

Organisational wise, it was a mess! Men and women jostled to deposit their bags in the trucks that would bring their belongings to Bedok Reservoir, which was the finishing point. "How on earth are they going to identify thousands of these bags and lay them out?," I thought to myself. The VIPs were late, and everybody was restless. However, weather wise, it was perfect. Cool and wet, cloudy with no sun.

7.40am: BG George Yeo, the VIP, sounded the horn. I found myself running off with the First wave- the Men's Open. It would be a race like no other I've ever took part in. Full of bottlenecks (Bedok Reservoir is too narrow a place to accommodate thousands of runners), mud pools (I wonder if the organisers were thinking about the Waves generated), and sand in my shoes (I was awarded with blisters). Along the way, I was baptised in mud, sand and water. I've never been so dirty and thrashed out in a run before!

8.30am: Saw the Mizuno balloon arc and crossed it! "Yes! I've finished!" I thought to myself. "Sir, the finishing line is further down, not here," the official told me. Man, talk about getting the Messiest Race Award! The last 1km was full of Ah Ma and Ah Kong from the Aljunied GRC doing their Walk-A-Jog along the same path that we were doing our run! As I sprinted across the finishing line, I had to take extra care not to bull doze down these elderly folks! I crossed the finishing line at 50min.

But, the mess had only just begun. The goody bag collection area was already crowded and full of people, with the Q-line extending as long as the race itself. The baggage collection area was like Sungei Road, with bags and stuff all laid out on the field, extending all the way to the car park! You could hear people cursing and swearing as they dragged their weary bodies around the war zone, salvaging their stuff.

I guess that I could have joined in the colourful language, but I was thankful for the cool nice weather in which I could run. I was also thankful for the improved timing. Actually, I was not too sure if my knee could take this 10km (I injured it a few days ago, while falling out of the bus carrying my beloved Daniel). Improving by almost 5 minutes from the Passion Run, I was quite happy with finishing this run at 50mins.

In life, as with running a race, we can never expect things to turn out the way we want them to. The challenge is: In spite of the mess, obstacles and difficulties, we have to see beyond all these and make the best out of it. The winner goes to the one who can rise above these present challenges to finish the race!

Sacrifice

We have always benefited from the sacrifice of others. Our parents sacrificed for us, worked hard and stringed on every penny so that they can provide us with the education and needs that we require to make it in life. I don't know about you, but I will never forget how my mother endured my dad's abuses, just so that she can be there to protect us when he was in his drunken stupor. She could have just left my two sis and me to him, but she chose to suffer the black eyes, bruises and endless smashing of plates and bowls, so that we were protected. Sacrifice.

I was bringing my 3 and a half year-old son, Daniel to his child-care centre the other day. I boarded an overcrowded bus, which was a great mistake. As I was squeezing my way out, carrying Daniel and 2 bags, I tripped on some one's feet. Not in the bus but while going down the steps! My subconscious mind told me I was in for a bad fall, down the steps of the bus and onto the pavement of the bus stop! However, instinctively, my response was to protect Daniel from hitting the ground. I didn't know how, but I ended up with a lacerated and bleeding elbow, bruised shoulders and knees, while Daniel was totally unhurt. He was crying away anyway, more from the shock of the fall than anything else. I showed him my wounds and he stopped crying. "See, Daniel. Daddy protected you and now, Daddy's bleeding." Sacrifice.

Passion

Some one once said that if one has nothing to die for, then one has nothing to live for. Very profound, but nonetheless, very true.

The venue: East Coast Park.
My watch showed 5.30am, and my heart rate was reading at 100 bpm. Despite the early hours, thousands of people had already gathered there. After my warm-up to get my body ready, the loud music and DJ in the background announced that it was time for the runners to gather.
It was a Sunday morning, 6am. While you were still in slumberland, four thousand men and women were getting ready to start a 10km run along East Coast.
The VIP took her position on the podium and sounded the air horn. I started my stopwatch, heart rate monitor registered at 120bpm and raced on. I would finish 54 minutes later, hitting my heart rate at 185. There and then when I finished, I savoured every moment of it. I may not be the first, or come in the first 10 or 100, but who cares! Man, I love it! I love the feeling of running among thousands of friends who were focused at finishing the race. I love the feeling of the early morning breeze blowing on my face throughout the run. I wouldn't exchange that for anything else in the world. The souvenir was a white towel, printed with the word "PASSION". How appropriate!

Venue: An old military base somewhere in the north of Taiwan, R.O.C
The time was already past 12 midnight. Alone, I took my handphone and charger up the slope to the technical workshop. Along the way, darkness engulfed me, the cold wind blew as the dogs howled. My army friends were all asleep in their respective bunks, but here I was, trying to get a 220V power plug, so that I can charge my handphone to call back home (Generally, Taiwan uses 110V AC). This was my fifth trip to Taiwan in my military tour of duty and countless trips up this slope to the workshop, but my heart was still racing fast. Not because of the hostile environment.
I found the power point and plugged in the charger. Immediately, my handphone sprang to life. I punched in the International Direct Dialing number to Singapore and her phone number. This would connect me to a certain girl staying in Ang Mo Kio. For the next 30 to 45 minutes, we would talk about sweet nothings. By the end of my Taiwan's attachment, I would have chalked up close to $1, 000 (Sing dollar, not NT1,000!) of phone bills. 3 years later, she became my beautiful wife. 6 years have come and gone, we have Daniel and his brother will be born in 3 weeks' time, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Many times, she would have her opinions and I would have mine. She would have her say and I would have mine, but we are united in one covenant. I love you, Shumei!

"Daddy, daddy! Come, I show you something!" Daniel would exclaim whenever he sees me coming home. He would then proceed to show off whatever Mummy or 'Wai Kong' (Grandfather) had bought for him. At 3 and a half years old, he is full of questions and tantrums. "Next time, you must share your toys with Di Di (little brother), ok?" I would tell him. "Ok, I will teach Di Di how to play toys," he would say. His favourite time would be bedtime reading. I will ask him to get a story book and snuggle up with me in bed, and for the next 15 minutes, I will read to him. Am I tired after a full day's work? You bet I am! But you know something? I would gladly do it everyday for Daniel. He completes my day.

What would I give up my life for? PASSION... The love of my life. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Children...

1996 was the year I handle children in a professional manner. It was my first attachment to a primary school, and as a Trainee Teacher, I was supposed to impact and influence them in the most positive manner. I struggled, tried and erred...

I remembered that it was raining very heavily, and my supervisor from NIE was supposed to evaluate me teaching these Pri 1 children basketball. There was a slight problem though. It was an old, worn-down school and their facilities were totally integrated! Integrated as in canteen-hall-badminton court combined. And since it was raining that fateful day, the canteen-hall-badminton court-parents' waiting area was, er, were, whatever, full of people. So, I have 4 other teachers with 4 other classes having their P.E lessons, canteen vendors washing the floor, parents waiting for their precious ones, armed with umbrellas and raincoats, slippers and maids. In the midst of this pandemonium, you have yours truly shouting at the top of his voice, trying to impress the 'ang moh' sitting behind, who is obviously anything but impressed! Just as things couldn't get any worse, it happened! In slow motion, I saw the ball being hurled out, flying through the air and landing on the nose!

Gasps of air being inhaled could be heard as everybody focused their attention on the bloody scene. By now, red could be seen all over the boy's face. Thankfully, the other teacher offered to help by bringing the boy for first aid treatment in the admin office, while I called up the parents. They were very understanding and didn't blame me for their son's bloody encounter with the basketball. My supervisor, the 'ang moh' was not so merciful. He 'crucified' me with his evaluation and needless to say, my first teaching assessment was a failure! I mean, what did he expect me to do? With such retro facilities and equipment (he said the basketball was too big and heavy for Pri 1, but the next option was the 5kg medicine ball!). And he had to visit and evaluate me on that day when nothing turned up right!

I moved on from there. Perfecting my 'killer-stare' look that is to be used on kids who have crossed the line. My line, that is. 4 years as a General Education Officer (MOE's term for a teacher) had seen my experience with these young ones increase by leaps and bounds. 'Remote-control' is the next step. This feat requires the teacher to look and stare, at a distance of 5m or more, and the kids will obediently and quietly make their way towards the teacher without any unnecessary movement. It takes practice but with patience and proper guidance, the rewards of 'killer-stare' and 'remote-control' are great.

1998. I was handed the Basketball team. Consisting of a motley-crue of kids, I transformed them into a dream team that got 2nd in the West Zone mini-basketball tournament. The trick was to be their friend and pal outside, strict disciplinarian and coach during training. One boy, however, stuck in my mind.

Eddie was Pri 4 when I first came across him. He was very skinny, bespectacled and barely 1m tall. You'd have thought that he was still in Kindergarten or Pri 1. He came for the Basketball selections, and everybody laughed. But, boy how he dribbled and got pass the other bigger boys! And the way he commanded the other players! I knew I had a gem.

Pre-match competition trainings consisted of 50 lay-ups, chest passes using medicine balls, runs around the school compound and Saturdays would see the entire Basketball team on the school bus en route to Bt Timah hill for our weekly run. That's right, the boys didn't climb Bt Timah, they ran up Bt Timah!

Eddie was the natural team leader. Despite his physical stature, he was always the fastest and fittest. Cheering the team on, encouraging them and rebuking those who were not concentrating on the game. My job was made so much easier, Phil Jackson and Michael Jordon, Sir Alex and Roy Keane, coach and captain. Our partnership lasted 2 years. In those times, I saw the world through his eyes, and he, through mine.

It was his thyroid gland. It had malfunction, thereby restricting his growth process. Even though, Eddie ate a lot and did lots of exercises, it would have no effect on his physical growth. However, that wasn't his only problem. His parents were both absent from his life, and his elderly grandmother took full responsibility of him. His father was in drug rehab, and his mother had run away with another man in search of a better tomorrow.

I always told him that it was a privilege for me to mentor him. Indeed, he was a very self-motivated player. The love that he had for the sport was undeniable. But his Achilles' heel was in his studies. I would very often find myself throwing my hands up in exasperation, trying to tutor him. But no matter, he would always say, I'd be a Basketball coach when I grow up, and all these Maths problem sums would be of no use to me then. What would follow next would be me scolding him for talking rubbish, and then telling him off, saying that he would starve to death if he depended on Basketball. "For your info, there's no NBA in Singapore!" I'd affirm him. Well, he would continue to challenge me on local sporting issues, very often resulting in me losing my head. He was a tester for my threshold of patience.

2000. It was the turn of the millennium, and also the turn of my life. Eddie graduated from primary school and I left the teaching profession...

I saw him when he was in secondary school. I think it was in the MRT. Still standing at 1.2m, still holding a basketball in his hands, he was telling me excitedly how he got in the school team. Next week was the semi-finals, and if they win it, they would be in the West Zone 'C' Div Finals! That fire of passion was still in his eyes.

The other day, I was jogging on the treadmill in gym when he called. I pressed the 'stop' button, when he identified himself as Eddie over the phone. He had just finished his army (he was given a clerical post due to his medical condition) and he is taking his basketball coaching test. He has been attached to a few secondary schools, and will be a certified coach soon. I asked him how he knew my number. He said that he was going through some old records and he came across my number. He continued to say that he has passed his practical coaching test, and will officially register as a basketball coach by the end of this year. His dream had come to pass. Heartily, I congratulated him. For a moment, an image of a 1m-tall boy, dribbling pass defenders and commanding his fellow players on the basketball court, flashed across my mind. His love and passion for basketball permeated through the phone and into my soul.

The next day was my off-day. I took out my basketball shoes, inflated my basketball and went to the basketball court. I finished 50 lay-ups, shot 3-pointers and penalties... In the midst of it all, Eddie's image stayed with me.