Pro-Sports

I ought to be shot. I had three serves of ice cream today. They say that carbo-loading before a long-distance race is good, but even I have to concede that this is hardly a pretext for behaving like a pig. I did not even have to read the following article to know that ice cream contains too much fat to be of much use as a carbo-loading food:

http://www.scottdouglas.biz/Articles/marathoneats.htm

Although it did provide me loads of useful information on how I should carbo-load for the up coming marathon.

I also discovered that Baskin Robbins is the most expensive ice cream, compared against Lecka-Lecka and New Zealand Ice Cream. Regrettably, I had to learn through the most painfully embarrassing means of not having enough money to pay for two miserable scoops of ice cream. Although, I will concede that BR does give pretty big scoops.

The hubby and I were wondering through Midvalley when we both decided we were a little peckish. I handed my ten dollar note to the hubby so he could get himself a KFC meal. Unfortunately, I forgot that all I had left was seven bucks. Now I have to suffer the snide remarks from the hubby every time he asks me if I have enough money. If I reply, “Yes,” he’ll ask, “What? You have more than seven bucks?”

I guess the rationale for choosing BR would have to be the exciting array of flavours they offer in their ice creams that surpasses all the other ice cream brands currently in Malaysia. Not only do they provide interesting flavours, but they also offer an assortment of textures in their ice cream that go beyond the norm.

The hubby prefers the taste of New Zealand Ice Cream because it is not as sweet and he finds the texture to be smoother. To my indiscriminate tongue, I did not perceive there to be any difference, though for two thirds the price of BR, I can deal with having less flavours to choose from and a slightly smaller scoop of ice cream.

Lecka-Lecka offers the softer texture of Italian ice cream, gelato. The milk-based flavours in gelato are not as rich in cream, providing a slightly healthier alternative to relieve a craving for an icy dessert. They also present a wider selection of fruity flavours which might be more appealing to the health-conscious.

Why the analysis? Well, I had to provide a legitimate excuse for stuffing my face since the carbo-loading defence was not justified.

Popularity: 14% [?]

Le Grunt called me the night before asking me if I was going to go biking with them on Sunday morning. As tempted as I was to give it a go, I respectfully declined.

My Dad had called me the day before to request a stationary recumbent bike for my Ah Kong, giving me a spec list that was a mile long. After some internet searches the night before, I noticed that there was showroom selling a model meeting most of these requirements located at Midvalley. Midvalley being Midvalley, I was not about to confront the throng that would have implanted themselves at the shopping complex by mid-afternoon on a Sunday.

As MT and I were walking back to our cars, I spotted Le Grunt lifting his bike off the roof rack of his car and pointed him out to MT. Cheekily, MT broke into a jog with mock concentration on his face as he ran past Le Grunt. MT “accidentally” brushed his elbow against Le Grunt’s ribs. Le Grunt emitted his usual string of expletives for the audience in the car park.

Since I was not joining them, the bikers had decided to hit a much harder trail at Kiara instead of the baby trail they would have taken me on at FRIM.

K arrived shortly after and she and Le Grunt exchanged some comments about their bikes. Le Grunt proudly pointed out his new bike seat and for the first time, I realised that his whole bike looked new. Since the first time I saw his bike until then, he had changed every single part but one.

Yes, Le Grunt was a great customer. If I owned a bike shop, I am sure I could survive if I had just one customer like Le Grunt.

He asked us to guess how much his bike seat cost him. I took a punt and was out by about fifty ringgit. For that price, you could be the top-end bike from Tesco and still have change to buy an ATC and a large carabiner.

Next, I noticed that Le Grunt was completely colour-coordinated from his helmet to his clip-on biking shoes. Even his bicycle sported the same grey-black hues. A moment later, D and K rocked up in their van. D appeared with her own uniform colours of blue and yellow, while K modelled blue and pink tones.

This was the group that I was going to bike with? They looked like a bunch of professionals entering a race, instead of heading for a leisurely Sunday bike ride. I started to wonder about the wisdom of joining them. AN had already made ridiculous recommendations for me to take on the “4K” trail when the last time I rode a bike was during my first year of University when I flew over the handle-bars.

It did not take a genius to realise that this group was crazy and I had to be brainless to think about joining them.

I would be spending the next two Sundays travelling to and from Japan. On the third Sunday, I would be running my first Marathon. I figure that if I survive the Marathon, I would probably be ready to start training my biking skills so I might contemplate a duathalon. Either that, or I could make my way to an early retirement… we’ll see.

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Well, my promise of running “tomorrow” did not emerge, but I did do some climbing in between, does that count? Anaerobic exercise, not exactly in the same category but it achieved increased respiration (albeit for the wrong reasons) and sweat production.

With the posers back in town, the training schedule for the KL Marathon resumed again. Two break-off groups commenced separate training schedules early morning at the TTDI track yesterday. SKT was planning to run twenty-one kilometers. I was content to stick to MT’s plan to complete one.

SKT and JY were nowhere to be seen, but MT and I made it to the track after some individual morning delays. Mine because MIL took my car out for some early morning errands and MT because of difficulties getting out of bed. Nice to know I am not the only one with the carburetor engine disorder.

The park at TTDI was chocker block full as it was every morning, so getting a park was somewhat of a challenge. I was tempted to break some traffic laws and park on a solid yellow line, but decided to be a good citizen after my early morning gripes about law enforcement being a poor example to be followed.

A leisurely toilet break and some minor adjustments to my MP3 player and I was off, tackling the track in the usual anti-clockwise fashion that PCL and I would take during our odd weekday running pursuits.

As I started pacing, I felt invincible. That “easy ten” would be mine today.

I had completed one lap before MT arrived and he suggested running clockwise. I found it interesting how different the circuit becomes when you alter your perspective of it. The relatively “short” downhill stretches felt impossibly long and the incline was more severe than it should have been in proportion. I was also amazed to notice how steep the anti-clockwise inclines were. I had always remembered them as gradual inclines.

I was feeling worse for wear by the time I completed the second lap. MT ran ahead of me and I let him run out of sight. Even my MP3 player started acting up in sympathy. I figured it did not like the continual bounce from a runner’s pace and the duration of three kilometers was about as much as it was willing to take.

If MT had not been running ahead of me, I would probably have called it quits at about this time. Instead, I tried to focus on the music and the two meters of track just in front of me. Surprisingly, it was quite affective. I stopped thinking about how long the ascent was and how much further I had yet to run. Although I still think I have a lot to work on in terms of handling an incline. It was still habitual to attack it with more vigour than my body was capable of, resulting in my failure to recover even during a compassionate descent. Of course, some additional cardio fitness would not have gone astray either.

On completing the third lap, MT turned and asked if I was up for another round. It must have been the mask of agony on my face that prompted his query. MT looked remarkably fresh and capable of running another ten rounds. I, on the other hand, was ready for the stretcher to wheel me back to my car.

“Okay,” I gasped. “One more…”

MT turned and continued running, but he thoughtfully slowed his pace so I could keep up. Secretly, I was relieved. At least someone would be within reach to call the paramedics when I fainted.

An hour ago, I was untouchable. It was amazing what a couple of laps could do to the body.

Six point four kilometers, a far cry from the forty-two kilometers I would have to run in three weeks. I made it home to the hubby who was still comatose in the foetal position. When I roused him to come shopping with me for Ah Kong’s stationary recumbent exercise bike, he asked me how my training session went. So I told him.

He replied, “Never mind. You can call me to pick you up on the race day.”

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Post Chinese New Yew gluttony, it was time to start training for the marathon. I headed to the gym to complete “an easy 10km”, as JC had always called it back in the good old days when we were running together.

My mind was obviously feeling stronger than my body because I remembered thinking, I’ll start with 10km and if I feel good, I’ll continue to 15km.

Barely completing three kilometers on the treadmill and I was ready to go home. My mind, disgusted by the weakness displayed by my body, managed to command another four kilometers before my legs made an executive decision on their own. So much for running an easy ten, let alone fifteen…

Sigh… we’ll start again tomorrow.

Popularity: 10% [?]

Chinese New Year, food and lack of exercise are synonymous with one another. Hence after returning from a far too leisurely holiday at Langkawi, my sister in law and I decided it was time to shed some recently acquired kilos at the gym. Being a member of Celebrity Fitness, and having signed up, up front with a three membership, I figured I could get her in on a guest pass.

We went over to 1utama and I introduced HL to the staff at Celebrity.

“You want to try out our gym? Sure, sure,” said the gentlemen behind the counter. “We just need you to fill out this form.”

Thinking that all was going well, I told HL I would see her on the treadmill. Thirty minutes later and there was still no sign of HL.

Hmmm, I thought, perhaps they are giving her a fitness test somewhere else…

An hour of sweating, I finally see HL approaching me looking aggrieved. I scanned for signs of physical exhaustion, but there were none. Her pained look was the result of mental trauma, for she had spent the last hour being harassed by the gym staff to sign up for membership on the spot. Talk about high-pressure sales…

Feeling thoroughly annoyed, I went to the reception desk and asked to speak to the manager and gave him an earful. Okay, so I exaggerated a little in some instances, but most of it was factual. All the manager could do was nod and apologise to me. I wanted to send my message home.

Why I was angry:

I have been a member of the gym since before it opened. I signed up without any fuss and paid upfront for a three year membership plan. They send me tons of smses about introducing my friends to the gym. So I do – more than once. Then they humiliate me by harassing my friends to join the gym which I recommended as being a “great” gym. Not only did they harass HL, they also called one of their managers to turn up the heat. He kept her from trying out the gym for one hour. We were supposed to work out together, but by the time she is ready to start, I am already done. This was the final straw.

What I told the guy:

I just got married and this was my sister in law that I was trying very hard to impress (this was my only little white lie but I figured it would help convey my point). She made a comment about wanting to get fit again so naturally I recommend the gym I am going to. We came to the gym thinking it would be a simple task of filling out a form, but she gets held up for an hour. I might have been willing to overlook the time factor had it been that they were busy showing her the gym and telling her about the facilities. Instead, they spent the better part of that hour grilling her with ridiculous questions on why she would not sign up on the spot.

The conversation between HL and L (the fitness advisor at the gym) went something like:

HL: I would like to check out Fitness First to see how the gym compares to this one before I join

L: Well, there’s no need to check out Fitness First. Our gym is much bigger, we’re opened long hours and we have much more equipment.

HL: Well, that’s not the only thing I’m interested in. I have personal reasons.

L: Might I ask what sort of personal reasons?

HL: No you may not. That’s why they are personal.

L: Why don’t you check out Fitness First today?

HL: What? Do you want me to run over there and check it out now?

L: You know there’s really nothing to compare. If you pay now, we can sign you up today.

HL: Look, I don’t have much money on me right now.

L: That’s ok, we take credit card. You have a credit card, right? It’s only RMXXX a month.

HL: Well, I’m currently unemployed and looking for a job and a place to rent. I don’t think I can make that kind of commitment every month. Maybe once I get a job.

L: That’s not a problem. We can auto-debit your credit card.

HL: (in a thought bubble) Hello? Did you just hear what I said?

There was much more to the conversation – it took one hour, after all. This was the gist that I picked up.

With the millions invested and the competition increasing between the gargantuan gym chains, I appreciate the necessity to increase gym memberships. However, based on my recent experiences, I feel that the intensity and approach that these gyms are employing to solicit new clients have simply become downright outlandish. It is simply not acceptable.

If this manner of doing business continues, I would not be surprise that all the gym will achieve is to turn away potential clients rather than attract them.

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