5 Great Tips To Motivate. That. Ass.

I was really motivated to exercise at one point. I mean, REALLY. I was literally on a high. Not only would I dedicate a whole hour to exercising every single day, I daydreamed about it when I wasn’t doing it, was excited about waking up the next day to do it, journalled about it, googled and youtubed it and just soaked it all in. Yes, I know. I was insane. Unfortunately, that was last year and my drive went kaput when I joined my present company (where I became suicidal and instead of exercising, spent most of my time trying to decide which blunt instrument I could use to knock myself unconscious).

My terminal funk went on for six months. Now that I’m out of it, I’m trying to get back on that exercise wagon but the challenge is: how do you motivate that ass (the ass being you) when you’re not feeling particularly motivated/ inspired/ excited/ enthusiastic? It’s easy to get moving when you’re feeling motivated/ inspired/ excited/ enthusiastic but hello, when you’re not, it’s damn hard. So here they are: my tips to help you Motivate. That. Ass. Tried and tested.

1 DON’T THINK

For me, exercise is purely mental. It’s not about building muscle; it’s about winning the battle with the Syaitan of Sloth (otherwise known as SoS). Before I even get off my ass, the SoS comes and starts playing with my mind. I’d think about how I’d feel if I exercised: would I enjoy it? How I’d feel after: would I be happy? What would happen if I chose to stay in bed: would I regret it? How I’d feel doing something else instead: I can use this time to go to work earlier! After all, got so many things to do wor. And etc etc etc. And many times, the evil SoS wins. I wind up thinking so much that I end up crawling back into bed and not doing anything. And it just goes on and on … and that’s why I believe the key here is: DON’T THINK, JUST DO. Thinking is over-rated. You know the saying: 80% of success is showing up. That’s so true of exercise. 80% is getting off your ass; 20% is moving it.

2 SET ONE ALARM ONLY

Okay. Confession time: I have these horrible pre-set alarms – six of them. I have a 6.00 am, 6.30 am, 7.00 am, 7.30 am, 8.00 am and an 8.30 am. So, you already can guess what I do, right? I turn all of them on before I sleep. In the morning, the 6.00 am goes off. Toot toot toot toooooooot. I turn it off, go back to sleep. 6.30 am goes off. I turn it off, go back to sleep. 7.00 am goes off … you get the idea. On and on it goes until 8.30 am. This time, I really wake up because I know there are no more alarms left ma ... and that’s why I believe the key here is: get rid of all the alarms and SET ONE ALARM ONLY. Duh.

3 AND MAKE IT WEIRD

Forget the nicely rounded 7.00 am or 7.30 am. For some reason, your brain will process 7.00 am as, “Eesh, so early … baru a minute ago was 6-something … can sleep some more. Snore.” And your brain will process 7.30 am as, “Eesh, still early what … not even 8 yet … can sleep some more. Snore.” And that’s why I believe the key here is: SET A WEIRD ALARM. Confuse your renegade brain by setting it at 7.43 am. It’s almost 8 so it’s like you’re kinda late and it’s too far from 6-something, so you’re not early.

4 HAVE A MANTRA

I saw this saying on www.webmd.com last year, which goes, “You never regret a run. There’s hardly anything in life you can say that about. You will regret a chocolate sundae.” Isn’t that great? I love it!!

5 DON’T BE A TERRORIST

Terrorists are all-or-nothing people. They either love you (and will therefore, devote their lives to you) or hate you (and will therefore, blow you up). Okay okay, so I don’t actually know any terrorists, but I needed an analogy and couldn’t come up with anything else. Besides, terrorists are hot right now.

Anyways, I’m also all-or-nothing. I’m either all black or all white. All happy or all miserable. I either buy nothing or buy half a dozen of one thing. I have no middle ground. Unfortunately, I’m also like this with exercise. I’m either doing a solid one-hour every day or a solid nothing on none of the days. Middle ground would be say, 20 minutes three times a week. Yeah, I’m not so good with that. This is a problem because it means I either exercise every day like a crazy person or I sit on my ass every day drinking coffee, facebooking, blogging and youtubing (which incidentally, is what I do these days – I love it, btw!!!). But you know how they say that something better than nothing? Yeah, I need that middle ground. I read somewhere about perfectionists being the worst procrastinators. They will put off doing something because they fear they won’t be able to do it perfectly, so in the end, they do nothing. Omg. That’s so me!!! And that’s why I believe the key here is: DON’T BE A TERRORIST.

My Weekly Run/Jog/Walk

Here we are again at Kiara Hill ... since we've been frequenting this place every week for the past year and a half, I figured it's time I pay some form of homage to it by blogging about it here. I like the pictures I managed to get here ... unfortunately, there's one thing I missed out on: monkeys. For some reason, they were all in hiding yesterday so all of you who've never been to Kiara Hill (but plan to go one day) gotta take my word for it. There are lots of monkeys swinging from lamp post to lamp post, scampering across the road with tiny little babies clinging onto their underbelly, throwing old cans of Coke at you (just kidding). Okay okay, my point is here got a lot of monkeys. Let's move on.

The thing with Kiara Hill is, there are always lots of people - these are the ones with clothes and no hairy backs (well, at least most of us) - and therefore, there are always lots of cars. We park way down the road and we walk 700 over steps on a slightly ascending slope to reach the entrance. Yup. That's over half a km just to get to the entrance. And wait. That's not the best part. There's no proper path for you so you're kinda squeezing your way through with all the cars coming up and down. It's important that you try not to get killed on the way up okay?

You're now at the hill's entrance and you'll see this sign. I had to snap of pic just because it cracked me up the first time I saw it. Translated to English, it reads:

YE WHO PARKETH ON THE YELLOW BOX ARE:
1. DISOBEYING TRAFFIC RULES,
2. INCONSIDERATE, AND
3. A SELF-CENTERED BUFFOON.

Hahahahaaa!!! That's really funny. Usually, a parking sign is just a big P with a red line across it. I've never seen one written with so much ... um, emotion. We were moved and promised never to park on the yellow box.

Once past the entrance, it's uphill all the way. Not so bad la considering you're sufficiently warmed up by now. And now, look at this. This is some idiot's idea of a joke. 'Heart' Ali Buntut 'heart' - now what the $#%@ is that??? I don't understand why people just can't leave things alone. There's absolutely no civic-consciousness here in Malaysia. It's infuriating. No respect for public property. I can just imagine them defiling this road and then laughing about it over teh tarik at the mamak stall. It's pathetic.

Apart from the Ali Buntut incident, the rest of the road is pretty uneventful. I was disappointed to see that the Jalur Gemilangs which had been hanging on every lamp post last week had been taken down. Drat. I wanted to snap pics of them and you know, make fun of it. But it was not meant to be.

The first part of the route is about 1,200 steps, which equals 1km - I counted with my pedometer last year, so sue me. The road is spacious and there are lots of people, so it's very safe. Unlike Gasing though, nobody wishes anybody 'good morning' here. I wonder why.

On the plus side, because it's all uphill, it's a great workout for your buns. And if you've got the stamina and can run all the way up, whoa, better still. Most of the folks take leisurely strolls though - in fact, I've actually seen some who are insane enough to go up wearing high heels, jeans and/or full-face makeup. Um, ladies, I think the mall (and/or massage parlour) is over there.

There are, however, always a few power strutters, and one or two real runners who look like they're training for some sort of triathlon. These are the ones who zoom past you TWICE even before you're able to finish one round. They have muscles where you don't and wear really big watches that count mileage/calories/heart rate/number of slow coaches they've passed/etc. I'm always in awe of these people and hope to be just like them one day.

Once you complete the first part of the route, you'll come to what we call the 'roundabout' where the road splits three ways. Take 12 o'clock and you'll end up coming out at 9 o'clock after a 2km undulating loop. Take 3 o'clock and you'll end up at a dead end and have to run all the way back out. We usually take the 12 o'clock.
Oh yes, there's also a friendly little message on the road which says, "THIS WAY TO BETTER HEALTH" ... aww, gee thanks, road painters. I'm more motivated already. Now doesn't this beat Ali Buntut anytime?

This second part of the route is a mix - there are stretches where it's uphill and parts where it's level. The best way to get the most out of this stretch is to run when you come to the uphills and walk when you're on level ground. Of course, it goes without saying that the best BEST way would be to run all the way la, but I don't feel like killing myself just yet. There've been several occasions when I've seen people sitting on the ground with their heads between their legs, panting away. Once, a man collapsed mid-way and his wife (or mistress or whatever) had to drive all the way into the hill to get him out.

The stretch can feel a bit long, especially if you're doing it the first few times. And that's why I always bring my ipod with me ... it's my saviour! Oh yes, another thing I have to mention is that there are no restrooms here, so if you're unfortunate enough to have to ... you know, go ... your best bet is to dive into the jungle (see left of pic) and do it there. So try not to go okay? And if you're like me and need to drink water throughout, run real fast so that you sweat it out. That way, you don't need to ... you know, go.

Here we are, at the end of the 2km loop, fooling around. You have to understand that I'm one of those people who laugh at people who take pictures at places like this. But for the sake of my blog, I became one of "those people". Sigh. The things I do. I'm halfway to being certified a bona fide camwhore ... I can't tell you how proud this makes me.

This is my friend who wants to remain unidentifiable. That shirt is a dead giveaway la, Syl! Oops. I mean, Person Whose Name I Don't Know. Anyways, from here, we make our way down the 1km route back to the entrance.

And here we are at the entrance ... again, I'm disappointed, just like I was with the fact that there weren't any monkeys today. See that little guardhouse on the right? Every week when I'm there, I sneak a peek into the filthy little hole and what do I see? 'Guards' snoozing away. I know because I can see three or four pairs of legs sticking out from under the desk. Yeah, I know. It's gross. Sometimes there are half-eaten packets of nasi lemak left on the desk, a few flies hovering around them. Well. I feel really safe knowing that we're all under the watchful eyes of these 'guards'.

It is our custom to head over to Sri Devi's for breakfast after our walk/jog/run/crawl. In all honesty, this weekly walk/jog/run is thinly veiled disguise to pig out at the mamak. Helloooo, we've already burned like 85 calories, it's time to refuel!!! Wouldn't want to lose too much weight, you know.

To end this post, I shall now insert a picture of our usual order. Every week it's the same: three dosai garing, two teh ais and one limau ais (yes, I'm the aberration). I love the dosai here ... one thing to note though, is that the dosai is always much better when you go earlier in the morning, say before 9am. After 9am, it's not so great. I guess this is as good a reason as any to start getting up earlier to do our walk/jog/run huh?

All This Unity Is Killing Me

If I see the word ‘unity’ one more time in the papers, I swear I’ll become insane and my head will explode. We’re a multiracial country, diversity is our strength, rakyat muhibbah, bangsa Malaysia, ya ya, I get it. No need to beat me over the head with it. Geez. When are we going to stop churning out all this drivel? Please don’t insult us.

From all appearances, our leaders seem to have a very simplistic view of unity. Aiya, very easy to unity one, as long as we write a lot of press releases that contain the word ‘unity’ etc; as long as we hold press conferences and say it out loud and command the papers to quote us (if not, we arrest them), we will be united!

If every day the rakyat sees the word ‘unity’ in the headlines (especially in those trouble-making newspapers which were issued show-cause letters), surely racial lines will be blurred and we will all saling cinta-mencintai.

And if after all this, the people are still divided, fret not! We’ll set up a committee and give it a very long name like Very Important Ministry to Forge Closer Racial Ties and Promote National Unity (VIMFCRTPNU, also pronounced as vim-fuk-rut-pft-noo). We’ll put four people up there – one Ali, one Ah Seng, one Muthu and one Dan Lain-Lain – to head the committee. Brilliant. Now, get out those curry puffs and let's call for a press conference!

It’s most unfortunate, but they don’t seem to understand that what you do is more important than what you say. How are we supposed to be united when ...

... We allow individuals (supposed to be leaders some more) to run around blabbering racially offensive remarks. Eh, never mind la, it’s his own opinion … even though he said it at a ceramah before the media and other leaders, under the party banner, it’s still his personal opinion what. Let’s just forgive la. What’s the big deal?

... On the same page loaded with ‘unity’ gibberish, at the same time, you’re constantly dividing us neatly into Malay and non-Malay, Bumi and non-Bumi, Tuan and non-Tuan, us and you, you and them … as in all of us are very angry, the Malays and non-Malays. On the one hand, I don’t appreciate having you speak on my behalf – excuse me, sir, with all due respect, how the #$@#%@ hell would you know what I’m pissed off about? – and on the other hand, we all know who ( or rather, what) we are. Ya ya, we get it. We’re all very angry. You, me, them, they, he, she, everybody.

... We have policies that don’t promote equality. I don’t think further elaboration is required here. If you need elaboration, go read the papers. What planet have you been on??

Wake me up when all this governing is over la ... zzzz

Bukit Gasing Memories

I'm reminiscing here and directing this specifically to a few of you out there (you know who you are!!) ... remember how we used to get up really early every weekend to go trekking at Gasing Hill? How we'd drive through the itty bitty narrow lane right into the housing area and park our car dangerously near the longkang so that passing cars won't crash into us? How we'd have to avoid a few dogs and slap a few mozzies on the way into the hill? How we'd say a cheery 'good morning' to everyone we met? And how there was this one guy who was really hot? And how he would ... okay, okay, I digress.

My point is, we used to go to Gasing a lot and after a while, we abandoned it for more concrete pastures. I miss Gasing. Therefore, I want to pay tribute to it in pictures. These shots don't give you a complete picture of the trail we usually take, just random snapshots.

Along a chain link fence, there's a path made up of concrete slabs which will bring you deeper into the bukit.

After a rather long stretch of jungle trek, you'll come to a suspension bridge. This is personally my least favourite part of the trail. I don't like sway-able suspension bridges mainly cos I don't have lots of confidence in our standards of maintenance, if you know what I mean. Skali the thing give way then how!!


Another part of the trail is a rather deep ravine - I hear this is called the Abu Bakar Slope. I remember the first time I trekked at Gasing and the first time I saw the ravine. I thought, holy crap, this doesn't look fun!! But it gets easier after a while, so it really isn't as scary as it looks. The good thing is, there is a rope at the steeper parts and there are steps (kinda sorta) along the way.

And we're back up and out of the ravine. Once out, you can breathe a sigh of relief because from then on, it's back to a stretch of jungle trek - a rather long one though. It feels like you're trekking and trekking and trekking and there's no end in sight. Luckily, the trail is level so it isn't so hard and you get to meet cute little doggies along the way (even though the sign at the entrance forbids pets ... and fruits and a whole bunch of other things).
And we're nearly out. I'm not entirely sure which trail we usually take. Apparently, there are quite a few trails available: Tower Loop la, River Trek la, Chain Link Fencing la, Long March la, Abu Bakar la, etc etc etc. I have a feeling we've probably been doing most (if not all) of them! Not sure though; all I know is we spend about an hour in the bukit and at a comfortably quick pace too.

And to think they wanted to tear down the KL side of Bukit Gasing to make way for development!!! It's one of the last few (and I mean FEW) remaining green lungs in Klang Valley! Guess they won't be content until every living tree and every tiny patch of greenery is razed to the ground. Hmm. Maybe I should get back to the bukit and do a complete trail pictorial before that happens.

Clambering Up Mt Kinabalu

On our way to the Kinabalu Park HQ. Would be lying if I said I wasn't a teensy weensy bit worried. Yeah, I read lots of blogs about Mount Kinabalu but hey, you never know okay. Worried about being up there in the mountain, vulnerable to the elements, at the mercy of the spirits. We didn't have an appropriate sacrifice to appease the gods of the mountains either - no chicken wings or ribs or anything, so yeah, I was worried.


After registering at the HQ, we met our guide who was apparently also going to be our porter. He was incredibly shy and TINY. I wondered how in the world he was going to be able to lug our three humongous bags, which must've weighed close to 20kgs in total ... plus his own bag some more. Oh my god.


Took a bus from the HQ to Timpohon Gate. Registered and got our tags (you know, so they can identify us in case they find a body or something) and off we went!


In all honesty, the hike was pretty easy. The crudely constructed 'stairs' can be a little steep at times but as long as you paced yourself, you were fine. We pretty much ate throughout the whole way. Apples. Cheese sandwiches. Fried chicken. Really expensive energy bars. Really gross energy gels. You name it, we ate it. I drank a lot too. And so, had to make a stop at every pondok. I also took pictures at every pondok. Haha. I believe in celebrating achievements no matter how lame.

This was Pondok Nombor Satu ...

... Pondok Nombor Dua ...

... Pondok Nombor Tiga ... Empat, Lima, Enam ...

... um, you get the picture ...

The higher you go, the landscape starts to gradually change and the temperature drops.

The air is fresh, pleasantly chilly and it gets all misty, which was really beautiful because it was almost like you were entering another world.


There were some parts which were all muddy and rocky, but they were still manageable. We thanked our lucky stars that the weather was fine all morning. In fact, it was absolutely gorgeous weather, which made the climb so much more fun.


We passed many other climbers (or rather, they passed us) and guides and porters (okay okay, so they passed us - whoosh) ... it's amazing how much stuff these porters can carry and they're all tiny! Like a third of the size of a typical Big Mac guzzling angmoh. The porter in the above picture is a woman who looked about fifty (!!!) and there were a number of little kids - no older than 13 - who were lugging huge fancy-schmancy backpacks at RM7 per kg. Wow.

Along the way, we had to make way for some guides who were carrying a guy down on a stretcher (!!!!!!!!). Apparently, he had been up on the summit that morning when he slipped, fell, whacked his head real hard on the rocks and broke his leg. He was bandaged up and in real bad shape. Gulp. We looked at each other and plodded on. Don't. Say. Anything. Very pantang one.

While the trail itself wasn't terribly difficult, non-stop ascending does eventually take a toll on you as the hours go by.

Our legs began to feel a little sore as we approached the fifth hour of climbing. But the scenery was transforming before our very eyes and I guess that kinda distracted us from the fact that our legs were starting to sorta feel like they were going to detach themselves at the knees.

At one point, the trees began to turn all black, dried up and gnarly; it was like being surrounded by an army of skinny old (evil) men. It was quite surreal. A veritable jungle of horrors ... and speaking of horrors. That was when things started to unravel.


I felt a ... (cue scary chainsaw-massacre-type music) ... RAINDROP. My heart sank into my hiking shoes. The last thing we wanted was rain (!!!!) ... I quickly pulled on my Lafuma wind-resistant, water-resistant, everything-resistant rain jacket whatchamacallit and tucked my camera right into the pocket. And then, IT POURED. It poured fierce.

Needless to say, I didn't take any pics at that point because I was trying hard not to slip on the rocks, fall off the mountain and die. I also didn't want to get my camera wet (duh). It was then that I learned how important it was to waterproof EVERYTHING. Everything's gotta be waterproof - your jacket, your pants, your bag, your socks, your shoes (are there such things as waterproof socks and shoes?). We were all soaked to the bone!!! And freezing half to death. We climbed and climbed and there seemed to be no end in sight. I swear my legs were going to fall off and roll down the mountain right into the gnarly trees.

After climbing for what seemed like FOREVER, I spotted the tip of what looked like a roof from a distance. Oh my god!!! Laban Rata!!!!! Finally!!! Infused with a sudden newfound energy, I dragged my sorry ass up the rocks ... ah, in a few moments, I'll be out of these drenched clothes and snuggled up in a nice, heated guesthouse and ... argh!!! It wasn't Laban Rata but $#%@#^%!@# Waris Hut. I knew because I saw the sign which said in big bold yellow letters: WARIS HUT. #%#@$#@%!!!! Another pondok!! Obviously, I wanted to kill myself right there and then. Unfortunately, my fingers were so frozen from the cold that I could hardly wrap them around my chocolate bar, let alone around my neck.

We huddled in the miserable little pondok while the sky thundered and continued to pour torrents of rain down on us. It was merciless. I began to wonder if we'd wind up sleeping here in Waris Hut that night. We willed the rain to stop but obviously, our will was pathetic because it rained even harder. After a long while, we decided oh heck it, we'll continue in the rain. Who cares. We were all wet anyway.

And so we did. And it took us a grand total of ... (drum roll please) ... two minutes to reach Laban Rata. Finally! We were there!!! We were so happy, we took all these nice pictures.

This was the amazing view from the balcony. It was so cold I could stay out long enough only to snap a couple of shots before we dashed in to fill our famished tummies.


Laban Rata was no five-star joint but it was cosy enough. I guess anything that even remotely resembled civilisation would've looked grand after 6 hours of climbing ... in the freezing rain.


This is a pic of us in our room. Okay, here's the truth:

1. There are three double-decker beds and you'll wind up bunking in with other people (whoever the girl at reception feels like pairing you with, I guess)

2. The heater is only turned on at 8pm. Problem was, we hardly noticed it when 8pm lolled around because the heater hardly worked! We continued to freeze.

3. They told us there's heated water - they lied. It was evil. We nearly died in the shower. There are also only two shower stalls so you may have to line up.

4. The mattress was tough, the sheet kept coming off and the pillows were made of cement.

5. There are no cabinets, shelves, hooks, etc so everything goes right on the floor.

THE SUMMIT (NOT)

The pictures you're about to see were not taken by yours truly, but by my dear friend Siew Fun. Why, you ask? Because unlike her, I didn't summit. Ya ya, I know, how can? After all the trouble and going all the way, etc etc etc, why not la? In one word: I don't want to talk about it. Okay, so that was like seven words but hey, this is my blog and I can do whatever I want. Suffice to say that it had something to do with snoring (not mine la aiyo), pounding headache, insomnia, wet, cold, chicken, beanie, ear plugs and a short attempt at sleeping while standing up. Satisfied?

The point isn't that I didn't summit. The point is that Siew Fun did and she took lots of pictures and they were all fabulous!

Siew Fun's climb experience in her own words, "It was freezing!! My fingers nearly fell off!! My gloves were soaked right through!! It was pitch black and I had no idea where I was going!! My headlight wasn't bright enough!! Thank god the guide was there with his torchlight or I would've lost my way!! I should've brought a ski mask!! I may've looked like some bank robber but at least my face won't turn to ice!!" [excessive use of exclamation marks all mine]

Once the sun fully rose at 5.30am, it was breathtaking. It was pretty crowded at the peak - coincidentally, it was Merdeka day that day. Siew Fun wasn't being very patriotic; she didn't bring her Jalur Gemilang to wave it around in front of all the pendatang asing (I know cos I dug around her bag the night before). After spending a grand five minutes freezing on the fourth highest point in SEA, she made her way down.

At 9.30am that morning, we bade bye-bye to Laban Rata and prepared our knees for the 6 hour hike down the mountain. Down, down, down we went ...

... past the gnarly Valley of Death ... the trees sneered at me. They taunted me for being a total chicken and not reaching the peak. They laughed at my fancy jacket and said I'd wasted all my money buying all this gear only to fail right when it mattered most. They also said I was a spoilt city girl who couldn't even climb a tree, let alone the fourth highest peak in SEA. Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah, they said. In retaliation, I threw a candy wrapper onto the ground (no la, I didn't; I never litter. Besides, I was scared the mountain spirits might follow me home).

The hike down wasn't too bad but it was tough on the knees. Some of the other hikers were surprised we didn't have walking sticks. I really don't think walking sticks are all that necessary unless you're hurt or something. Anyways, I took the two pics above as I was nearing the exit ... I liked them because they had such a fairy-like quality to them with the towering trees, thick mossy carpet, roots protruding right out of the orange earth and snaking their way across the path. With sunlight streaming through the trees, it was pretty magical. I half-expected little elves and pixies to appear somewhere ...


... and ah, finally, we were out! By this time, our legs had turned to rubber and walking had become unpleasant, to say the least. We could see the Timpohon Gate already... but the crap part was, we had to climb some more stairs to get up to the gate. Aiyo, already climbed for so many hours yesterday and now, climb some more!! I was literally lifting my leg with my arm (try picturing that - haha) to position it on the next step. Left, right, left, right. Argh.

We hobbled into a waiting van and were driven back to HQ. It was nice to sit down. It was nice to stop walking. Once we reached HQ, we hopped into another van that would bring us back to the hotel in the city. And then ...

... it POURED. Real fierce. Thank god we were out by that time!!! I'm writing this two weeks after returning from KK and if anyone were to ask me how my trip went, I'd tell them it was great. Sure, I didn't summit, but it was still a really fantastic experience. I'm now stronger, wiser and have a pair of beautifully sculpted calves!