That Twenty Fifteen
I was just at my usual routine last Sunday. At the gym, climbing. Just started back after idling for a month of not getting grip on those plastics. A competition held there had just ended and there were new routes on the lead wall after what felt like donkey years climbing the same thing over and over again on that same wall. Yes, I haven’t progressed that much. After all what is there to progress when you’re up against the teenagers, people at the peak of their fitness, in their 20s, who can beat themselves up bouldering one whole day and quickly recovered for a multi pitch the next? (Excuses, excuses..) Anyway, the usual me wouldn’t sit still to attempt the new climbable low graded routes but I found myself staring at them for awhile, just couldn’t bring my butt up until Fakhrul made me.
I’ve totally lost it, temporarily hopefully. That motivation, or more like the reason to climb. The psyche and inclination that I usually have seem to be missing. Why did I even began climbing in the first place? How long can I keep this up? And then I realised that the year is ending and contemplated on things that I did.
Truly, it has been a crazy year. A crazily good year, thank God for that. Especially when we started 2015 by welcoming a son into this world. After giving birth to Renan, I never really planned to go crazy as I did. I just wanted to get back to my old fitness level and weekend routines that I loved but I guess the part where I “rested” during pregnancy got me so stoked to outdo one activity after another.
Although climbing went ongoing as usual, I caught the running bug as soon as I joined my first race three months postpartum. It was a 5k then and it felt like the longest run of my life. I committed myself to a 12k two months after that and it felt liberating because its true what they said – your mind will give up long before your body ever will. I truly felt like I was almost capable of anything after that. After those runs on the roads, I took it to the trails and got hooked than ever. Although technically its harder, it is just so much fun running on the trails..
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Just a little over 10km, about 1000ft elevation gains, around 1 hour 55 mins. Super slippery and muddy steep hills due to torrential rain an hour before the race made one step forward became two steps backward! Nevertheless, running by the river, up and down the valley with views of clouds hanging by the hills was an experience I will yearn for more. My body feels completely destroyed but this is the only excuse to be playing with mud, getting down and dirty like a kid when you comes to the age of over thirty. #actionasia #salomontrailrun #actionasiaevents #syukurkakimasihada #trailrun
And then there was all of these series of hiking. I started off with the notorious part of Bukit Tabur on the West side and few weeks after, we did the East. I was pretty adamant to do my first mountain this year for some reason so we did Irau in June. I’m having all sort of remorse mentioning Irau because that was one of the life changing experience I’ll never get to forget and I didn’t even write about it! I only wrote a little in IG though. Overwhelmed, I did not say much about that event but you can see few more of it if you dig deep enough..
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I used to be the kind of person who has never climbed any farther than out of my own bed. Shallowly, I also used to think that mountain climbing is somewhat a selfish sport – an ultimate act of pure meaningless egotism, that in the end it only matters to the person doing it. It hasn't changed any world hunger, cure cancer or solved the greatest challenges of our times. But if you had ever spent a moment on top of a mountain, or even just somewhere in the forest, you might realize that human climb and commune with nature because it makes us feel small. It puts us in our place and gives us perspective. That is to say, it obliterates our ego.
And then there was New Zealand which deserves an entry all to itself but understandably with all of those weekends packed with things I wanted to do, where do I slot in a quiet 1 am sitting on my butt, composing words whilst hushing a baby to sleep at the same time? But please.. do remind me not to give up on jotting down my thoughts, that this is all worth the effort. That it’s important to revisit my old thoughts and memories because an ageing brain can only hold so much?
The last in the family got married too this year. I have so much to say to her but in the end I found myself talking to the mirror as if I was talking to her, bursting my eyes out with the water works. Appearing all strong and unaffected is so hard when the truth is I am nothing but all about fragility emotionally..
And just as I thought I was done with 2015, Bali happened so unexpectedly. And it was really nice to just chill this time, took it slow, enjoyed the company I was with and just let the beauty sank in.
So I guess all of these unmotivated few weeks are probably relevant, might be feeling drained out since I don’t think I’ve done so much in a stretch of almost twelve months before. And I haven’t even mentioned about all the projects in hand at work that went on full blast simultaneously this year.
One thing for sure for next year and the coming years of my life.. I will keep on collecting memories instead of things, stay curious and keep doing the thing that scares me, experiencing true risk and adventure so I don’t have to live wondering for the rest of my life. Yeah true, I still won’t know how long I can keep up with all this.
But I can’t wait to find out.