What's your reason?

Limitless (2017)
(Netflix, Documentary)


My parents never ran. I do not remember them running over or running away from anything. They practically expected others to run around doing things for them. In fact, nobody in their generation ran. It seemed running, and activities that required exertion is for the young. Older adults simply do not do those things which broke too much sweat. Things surely have changed over the years.

Members of the fairer sex also never had it so good. From a time not too long ago, 1967 actually, runners like Bobbi Gibb and Katherine Switzer had to run disguised, now, in most international marathons, the male to female ratio of participants of the full marathon is almost one to one.

Why do people run?

This made-in-India documentary looks at the lives of eight ladies and why they took up running. Despite the constant staring, cat-calling and security concerns, these lady runners seem to be empowered. Every extra half-hour that they manage to run without stopping, they get a renewed zest in life. The running events that they complete equip them with a higher level of confidence. 

Some run to numb the pains of their personal lives. It may be a broken marriage or even exodus from homeland like the runner from Kashmir who calls herself a Delhi-ite these days after being chased out from her ancestral home in Srinagar by religious zealots.

When the worldly duties are done, your offspring do not want you meddling with their affairs, but you are still teeming with energy, what do you do? Like Fauja Singh or Forrest Gump, you run, of course. Once you are locked into the routine, nothing can stop you - rain, shine, snow or fracture!

Runners make friends quickly, are more grounded and are a kind lot, looking out for each other and showing a high level of camaraderie. You hardly find a grumpy runner, do you? 

There is no good enough reason not to run. Run before you are prescribed running to save your life. If you do not have a quality sleep, run; feeling down, run; hit a wall at work, run; you got bad genes that make you susceptible to lifestyle diseases, run. 

If you cannot run, walk. Then alternate the walk with a run, and before you know it, you would be running for your life. What further motivation do you need? When you run, you are fighting the same inner demons that bog you down, dragging you with all the failures of life. Unchain the shackles.

In this documentary, a lady, hit by childhood paralysis, poverty and hard knocks of life runs for the money. The lure of the prize money brings her places. Her misery is no longer an excuse not to train.

Done with finesse, this 1-hour documentary is told seamless infusing many elements that are quintessentially Indian, the decorations, outdoors, and a peek into their places where they hangout. Humanity component is not forgotten as well. Exercise and running also help physically challenged individuals.

Katherine Switzer Bib 261 was the first registered female runner

to complete the Boston Marathon at 4:21 in 1967. A year earlier

Roberta 'Bobbi' Gibb, ran without a number.

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Legend or tricksters?

Meet the Night Runners (BBC documentary; 2019)


There is an East African tale amongst the Luo people of spirits who wonder at night to disturb households. These 'night runners' throw sand and stones on their roofs, make rattling sounds on their zinc roofs and make eerie sounds in the deadpan of the night.

The BBC African crew did an exposé recently of this phenomenon. 

These 'night runners' are just people who like to create mischief and get a thrill out of scaring the hell of their victims. They do not steal peoples' properties but sometimes get caught and get beaten up for it. Because it is humiliating to be labelled a 'night runners' at the risk of being chased out of the village, they end up in debts trying to pay off their captors. 

The 'night runners' allege it is a first within their families as they had seen their fathers, mothers and grandparents do the same. At one point, it looks more like an addiction that is difficult to break. After being exposed or injured, they insist on quitting only to return their old ways in no time.

Toma Bay, Western Kenya.
Lake Victoria in the background.

Using night vision cameras and interviewing runners as well as their victims, the documentary brings its viewers into the dark and secret world of 'night runners'. Using drones to film to the landscape of Toma Bay, in Western Kenya, the capital of 'night runners', the crew managed to give us a close-up view of remote East African picturesque landscape as well as the view of Lake Victoria.

Unfortunately, there are allegations that the runners who appeared in the recordings were paid actors. A middle-aged self-confessed runner came forth later to say that she was invited to play the part. Others insist that 'night runners' are supposed to run naked unlike the ones seen in the secret filming footages where there were dressed in white men's clothes and there appeared new, suggesting further that it was staged. 

The crew is trying to tell that the 'night runners' are just pranksters who are addicted to creating mischiefs while the people insist it delves into mysticism and the dark secrets of the African past.

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Do the thing you do!

Uncle Hooi at his best © The Star

I remember the barrages of concerned pep talks from my family members when they discovered that I, at the tender age of 43, slowly started indulging in competitive distance running. In not so many words, they were obviously trying to tell me that I would just drop dead by the roadside to be found by passersby as if I were just roadkill.

Another old friend, obviously overweight and looking much like Peter Griffin of the 'Family Guy' fame was even generous enough to offer free anaesthetic services as and when I need a knee replacement. 

As a last resort, my family went ahead and gave me a 'stress test - CT angio' combo as a birthday present on my 50th birthday. When the cardiologists gave a clean bill of health after silently cursing under his breath for wasting his precious time from his more deserving patients, they essentially gave up and let Nature take its course. 

This must have been what Fauja Singh must have gone through when he took up serious running at the age of 89. I can imagine how people would have mocked him. How people can be cruel with their words... 

"Living on borrowed times, and he is asking for trouble!"

"What is he doing? Should be playing with his grandchildren."

"He should be making peace with his Maker, not running around like a young bloke"

Uncle Hooi (pic above) is a regular feature at the place my friends and I frequently run on Sunday mornings. Starting his solo run as early as 5 in the morning, without fail, at a steady pace, he would cover a distance of 20km effortlessly at his springy age of 82. He must have been ridiculed behind his back for missing all those late Saturday banters and parties that last till the wee hours of Saturday night- Sunday morning. He must have been labelled as a party pooper for precisely the same reasons.

Fauja Singh, 107, Turbaned Tornado
Photo courtesy santabanta.com.

Others mean well and say things that they think would make change for the better. They feel that it is their God-sent duty to do so. At the end of the day, everybody has to use their God-given faculties to decide what is best for them. When we falter or make a wrong decision (immaterial whether it is in accordance to their advice), they have nothing to offer but sympathy, maybe crocodile tear and perhaps, words of comfort that God works in mysterious ways.

Some enjoy the attention of being sick and like to immerse in the sympathetic display by the loved ones. Others use their disability, perceived disability or faked ailments to garner a soft spot. And a few convince others that they are indeed sick to give their two cents' worth advice, to sell their products, to gaslight them down or just to have a conversation going. For them life is so mundane, they need to irritate someone.


https://asok22.wixsite.com/real-lesson 

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Lanna hospitality at your service!

Muang Thai Chiang Mai Half Marathon 2016
18th December 2016

"Sir, you are representing Malaysia?" she (or ze), the volunteer at the registration counter asked with her heavily Thai-accented English. Till then it did not strike me. Wow, I am at an international participant attended by representatives from 53 countries, and three of us were there to hold our national flag!
She handed me a racing bib with my name proudly printed against my multi-hued country flag.

The Start

I would like to believe I am holding the good name of my country on my shoulders and it is my responsibility to make my motherland proud. It just gives a lame justification to motivate me to try harder. That is all. Nobody gives two hoots, actually. There is no 'the other' that I need to satisfy, to compete with or to set an example for. It is all in my mind. But then, it feels good, though.

In keeping with the sombre state of affairs in accordance to the recent demise of the much-beloved monarch, the festivities were held in a much low key setting. Even the running attire was printed in mellowed monochrome - black and white. Lacing the roads at intervals were long black and white long ribbons to set the tone. Hospitality, the smile and the humble Thai salutations of 'Sawadee' and 'Kho Khun Kha' were still abundant. Hey, life has to go on. One cannot live on fresh air and sympathy alone!

Right on the dot, at 5 am, the half marathon runners were flagged off without much unnecessary bantering and needless speeches by VIPs. Even though the temperature was recorded as a cooling 17 degrees C, it did feel so comfortable, though. As I cruised along the first kilometre, I noticed that I was sweating again like a pig (yeah, pigs do not sweat!). Even though the temperature was moderate, the humidity was surprisingly high at 85%, slighter better that the one day before, 100%! The air was almost still. The morning was young or rather the night was way late as it was still very dark. Sunrise in Chiangmai on that day was almost 7 am. In the still of Chiangmai streets, almost seamlessly in well-coordinated fashion, runners, mostly amateur fun-loving ones, moved along the streets.

Basically, the town is built around a canal with an almost rectangular lattice of road networks. We ran in the form of two quadrangular loops, extending to the airport and back. The Thais must be very hardworking people as they were already busy on the road at 5 o'clock on a Sunday morning. It could not be Saturday night revellers who partied through the evening as they seem quiet. The only boisterous crowd appear to be gweilos in taxis. Despite the inconveniences by the race, in the form of traffic congestion and long waiting times at junctions, the Thais took it in their usual docile fashion - quiet and patient. They know they have to play dance monkey to appear inviting to foreigners. That is their bread and butter or rather tom-yam and mango glutinous rice pudding! Like their Indo and Malayan counterparts who found pleasure in horns blasting, they stayed silent.

Paradoxically, as the race progressed, the ambience became more comfortable. With the rise in temperature, the humidity must have decreased, and it became more pleasant to just cruise along. One sees the culture and civilisation of a country by looking at the ordinary folks. What better way to observe this then to weave through the streets amongst the denizens of Chiang Mai. It was a common sight to see Buddhist holy men, with their bowls chanting sacred texts to kneeling people for some exchange of alms, I presume.

Without any untoward incidences, the race ended at where it started. What puzzled me afterwards was the seemingly seamless flow of events at the finishing line. After crossing the timing belt, runners are given the usual complimentary drinks and medals, together with a print out of their run timings! Nothing is going to stop them from issuing laminated finishers' certificates in the very near future! The post run galore continued with coconut drinks and signature foot massage for the sore feet and legs. A well-organised race to showcase the superb hospitality of the Lanna folks.

Lanna hospitality at your service!

Never thought running could spur philosophy!

Running on the treadmill can be a daunting task, but it had to be done. Unpredictable working hours and inclement weather make it imperative for one to rely on this monotonous method of training. To ease the task of repetition risking premature retirement, many have devised their own means to beat boredom. I depend on the cable TV. That too sometimes lets me down. Thanks to the tropical weather and highly negatively charged weather clouds, transmission ceases more frequently than it should.

I devised my own method to cut my runs into halves and a further half it. Say, I plan to 7kms (~4.2miles) that day. First, I aim to reach half the distance (~2.1miles). Then, I aim for half that distance, another ~1.05miles, then another ~0.5, then ~0.25, then ~0.125 and so on. Before I know it, I am drenched in perspiration and joy for reaching my target.

Never in my wildest dream did I think that what I was essentially doing was what Zeno of Elia was trying to tell people around him. In his philosophical treatise which was finally termed Zeno's paradox, he advocated that by halving the distance your destination, you will never reach your intended endpoint as there will always be a void between you and the target.

Just like a moving arrow is actually static at every moment of time but in relation to space and time is seen to move from point A to B.

If Achilles set his target to reach the point where the tortoise is, he will never be able 

to overtake the animal as the tortoise would always one step ahead no matter what!