Sprinting to the Batu Caves

Beads of perspiration dripped off my brow as my legs propelled my body forward with force and celerity. My brain must have stifled the part of my nervous system that detects pain in order to focus solely on my end goal, because the only feeling it registered was the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I had already dashed through a Malaysian airport and raced passed the Petronas Towers, allowing myself only seconds to marvel at their grandeur. As I did, visions of visiting this landmark in another life flashed through my mind.* I immediately pushed them out, not permitting daydreams of past memories to cost me precious time in this race for a million dollars.

It had been a grueling journey to get here, but I was now in the final segment of this leg of the race. After hurling myself out of a taxi cab at the entrance of the Batu Caves and throwing some ringgit at the driver without bothering to retrieve my change, I poured every remaining morsel of energy I could muster into my final sprint.

As I neared the entrance of this monumental shrine, I spotted Phil Keoghan standing on the familiar mat. Its bright red and yellow hue beckoned me. Were my competitors nearby? I didn't look behind me, for fear of slowing my pace. Moving my legs as quickly as I could, I watched the distance between Phil and me decrease until finally, my feet jumped on top of the mat.

I waited in anticipation for sweet, congratulatory words to flow off of Phil's lips. My heart hammered against the walls of my chest with such force that its beats echoed in my ears.

"Congratulations, Jet and Cord, you're team number one!" Phil announced.

Wait a minute. Jet and Cord? Hearing these names, and not my own, jolted me back to reality.

I looked around me. Suddenly, the awe-inspiring scenery of the Batu Caves had vanished, and in its place were rows upon rows of treadmills, stationary bikes, and ellipticals. My eyes returned to the small screen in front of me and The Amazing Race credits scrolling across it.

It dawned on me that I hadn't been sprinting through the exciting metropolis of Kuala Lumpur as a contestant in a million-dollar competition, but had merely been watching one of my favorite reality TV shows, completely engrossed, as I ran alongside scores of others at my gym. Disappointment ensued.

My brain released the hold it had temporarily placed on my nervous system earlier in its deceived state, and suddenly the flood gates of pain opened, my body feeling all of the effects of an intense 50-minute sprint.


Anyone else like to make indoor exercise more interesting by letting your imagination run wild? Maybe it's just me...


 *The visions that flashed through my mind while running on the treadmill came from my trip to KL in 2012. Check out some of the beauty of the city! 

The Petronas Towers by Day and Night 

The Entrance of the Batu Caves

My Running Companions

I'm not the type of girl who dreams of saving up my pennies to buy a pair of Jimmy Choos. I'm more of a Payless kind of girl.

That is, until it comes to my running shoes. I have my brother-in-law to thank for my sneaker snobbery. He introduced me to my first-ever pair of Brooks' running shoes a few years ago and I've been a changed person ever since.

That's why I was so thrilled when a package from Finish Line arrived on my doorstep.

Bursting with excitement and anticipation, I tore open the outer box and then carefully lifted the lid of the shoe box inside.

Their name--the Adrenaline GTS--suited them perfectly. I felt a rush of adrenaline flow through my veins as I stared at them--still in the box; still pristine (a condition that wouldn't last very long). The vibrant pink and orange hues just seemed like fast colors to me. Can colors be fast? If I hadn't thought so before, I certainly was a believer now. Yes, I could feel it...I was certain to set a new P.R. sporting these.

Slowly, I loosened the laces and slide my feet into them. Ahhh. I wiggled my toes, bounced up and down, and then jogged in place. These were the perfect running shoes.

Running shoes. The label didn't fit. It just didn't sit right with me. To anyone else, it would have been an adequate description. Running shoes, tennis shoes, sneakers...depending on the location, those might be words that one could read on a shoe box or in an online product description, but to me, those labels just didn't suffice. They minimized the significance of what was inside the box.

No, these were my running companions. They would accompany me for hundreds of miles. They would willingly strike the pavement with each stride I made. They would endure hard runs as I sprinted away my stress. They would patiently tolerate slow jogs as I pushed through exhaustion. They would join me as I contemplated life, wondered about my future, prayed for my family and friends, planned my best lessons, and rocked out to my favorite music. They would trek through cold spring mornings and hot summer afternoons, celebrating the sun but still enduring through the rain. As  I ran... sweating, smiling, singing, and even crying...they would be right there with me.

Staring back at me were so much more than two new shoes. They were my new running companions.