It has been ages since I've been training as hard as I have been. It's a combination of reasons, from trying to get fit enough to tackle Mount Kilimanjaro in March 2012, the desire to do my very best in dragon boat, to the simple reason of vanity (if you're surrounded by super buffed team mates every weekend, you'd be self-conscious too).
I've always been involved in competitive sports, which meant that I'd be involved in a lot of intensive training as a team and extra training on my own. I know I risk sounding like an old man reminiscing his lost years, but I remembered how I used to be able to handle tough training everyday and yet recover well enough for the games on weekends. Age has certainly caught up with me. I'm taking forever to recover from my last workout, the "excess baggage" is taking an eternity to shed, and the improvements take longer to materialise.
The sudden passing of a 21 year old undergraduate at the recent Singapore Standard Chartered marathon shook me up somewhat. I was sharing with some friends that considering his 21km timing (1hour 50minutes), he's definitely no unconditioned slouch. "If anything", I continued, "he'd probably pushed his limits too far". And that was when I stopped... because I would've done the same thing as he did, and with me being twice as old, it might've been me.
Being a competitive amateur sportsman for most part of my life, I've been bombarded with slogans associating with pushing ourselves past our limits. In fact, it is a scientific principle that in order for the body to improve, we have to push the body harder than what it is normally used to. But the problem is, how many red flags can we afford to ignore until the body really gives out. So why do we take that risk and push ourselves so hard?
My body is telling me that I'm no spring chicken anymore, no matter how hard I try to run away from that fact. When I was in University and at my prime (oh dear, here I go again), I had a bodyfat percentage of 11% and a VO2max of 58ml/kg/min. That was half a lifetime ago, and I'll admit that I'd neglected my fitness for the last couple of years. An old friend of mine called me up a couple of days ago after seeing my pictures on Facebook and asked me how did I get that fat, and welcomed me to the "Fat Boys' Club".
Years ago when I was still playing club rugby, a senior player who was still playing some excellent rugby at the age of 40, told us that "if you want to enjoy your game, get fit!" (that's the succinct version of it, with all the colourful expletives removed). Getting back into competitive sports has given me the motivation once again. Although I'm a lot more chilled than when I last played competitive sports, I still expect myself to give nothing less than 100%, during training and in races. Fortunately for me, Kat is on the same team as me, and she trains just as hard (if not, harder) than I do, and she motivates me as well. There's this desire for us to do the best not just for ourselves, but for our wonderful team mates who keeps encouraging us. That's why it's called a "team sport".
We just had a long weekend of spending time with friends, so I had to drag my tired ass to the gym today for my lunch workout. I wondered why on earth was I pushing myself so hard, and that I should be enjoying my lunch break, especially at my age. Why do I even bother? The things is, I have no intention of wasting my life away on sedentary pursuits, and I'm inspired by the team mates who are older than me, and twice as fit as I am. I hope that I can be like them when I get to their age.
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