Hurrah! I am not slowly decomposing in Bukit Timah Hill. I was hit by a sudden spurt of inspiration today to go for a run. I figured that since I am going to be cooped up in a plane for 20 hours, I might as well suffer the lactic acid build-up and aching muscles.
My New Balance trainers were thankfully not disintegrating from underutilisation. Yes, I am that vain; I have fancy schmancy shoes for the gym, practical trail running shoes for the jungle and three inch CFM heels that I don’t wear because they make me look like an Amazonian warrior.
I think I killed my shins by running uphill. Which moron runs up the bloody hill? This one. After doing the obligatory up and down the hill, I was further inspired to take on the mountain bike trail.
The last time I ran the trail was a year and a half ago with the ex-b/f.
I miss it. The rich smell of damp earth, the leaves cracking under my feet, the frenetic buzz of the crickets / cicadas, the echoic sound of my breathing (my lungs are still in good working order even after the forbidden fruit that night at Holland V… it’s all your frigging fault Cal!). It was all good. I didn’t finish the entire perimeter because it was getting dark and there were only two other runners on the trail but it felt damn good. I ran out with a silly grin on my face. Now I know that I can do this on my own. All I need is a death wish and the ability to stare the next serial killer / man-eating tiger / Aedes mosquito in the eyes.
My shins.
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