KL International Marathon 2008

This year the KLIM organizers have generously added an extra hour of qualifying time for the Full Marathon, making it 7hrs. I signed-up immediately the moment I read it in the form. I believe there are many runners who are determined to finish the distance regardless of the time. The setback was once the qualifying time was over; traffic control will be withdrawn leaving the slower runners very much on their own.

Eve

12 hours before the race, we visited my mother-in-law in Klang who was feeling unwell. We paid a call on a Chinese Physician who offered me a glass of black Chinese herbal wine. I asked the Sinseh will the alcohol affect my running tomorrow. He boasted in China, Chinese athletes drink tonic to boost performance. I chuckled and gulped the bitter dark elixir.

I know how important it was to eat well especially the night before a race but somehow temptation overcame me. I drank the famous Klang Chong Kok coffee; half boiled kampong eggs, toasted butter-kaya bread and fried cucuk udang. I normally avoid caffeine in the eve of a run to avert sleeplessness.

True enough, though I went to bed at 9:30 p.m, I could not sleep until close to midnight.

2:30 a.m.

Got up and was glad I had at least a few hours sleep. Eating the banana Powerbar this time was like Fear Factor food. It was too sweat and sticky. I don’t have this problem before.

4:30 a.m.

This year the group seems larger. I mentioned to Jamie, it appears anybody can run the Marathon because you can see the runners come in all shapes, sizes, age and attire (including full Spiderman suit).
I found the weather a bit warm at this hour of the morning. As the gun went off, I trailed behind Choi and Jamie and wish them luck as we step on the electronic matt.

Somewhere at km-3, Tey passed me. A lady runner caught my attention with her teasing shorts drooping precariously. It is like those low trendy Jeans that we see very often that bares the lower back.

After the km-5 drink station, a Chinese lad probably in his late teens or early 20s runner, carried a big polycarbonate bottle with his 2 fingers and his other hand, a rollup map. I was afraid he may not know what he had got into or maybe he had unknowingly registered in the wrong category.

I reached the 10km mark in 1:16:50. I was 2+ mins faster than last year. My thoughts were to go for the next 10km one minute faster.

Somewhere along Jalan Cheras, probably km-17, I was beginning to lose pace. My tummy felt uncomfortable, it wasn’t a stomachache. The perspiration trapped around my belly wasn’t drying fast enough. Not sure if it was the Adidas vest. I quickly went to a petrol station for a leak and rejoined within seconds with a hope the situation would change but it didn't. By now the lad with the plastic bottle had overtaken me; never judge a runner by his antics – this lad can run.

A Wall too early

When fatigue and nausea manifested, fear creep into my spine because the symptoms were much more pronounced this time round than last year. My rhythm and resilience slackened. I calculated, with 25kms to go I have to tread cautiously if I want to survive. Pushing ahead and ignoring the signs may lead to DNF.

I reached the 21km mark in 2:47:37. 4 minutes slower than last year. Francis Cheng, the 74-year old runner stopped somewhere at Concorde Hotel to massage his cramped legs. I offered him my analgesic cream. I too was also beginning to develop twitches and cramps, a result of the earlier tell tale signs.

Approaching Dataran and U-turn to Jalan Raja Laut, Lim Tow Suan from Klang Pacesetters and a lady PACM cheered me on. I look ahead and behind me, there was not a single runner in sight for as far as 200 meters. I was alone.

A Mat Rempit motorbike almost hit me at a junction along Jalan Raja Muda. He tried to beat me to the crossing.

30 km

4:14:42, I am way off my mark. 11 minutes slower than last year. A mid-20s Indian runner whom I befriended while we run-walk and treaded leads for the last 10km was eager to finish within 6 hours. He asked if it was possible, I replied frankly at current pace it is unlikely and estimated finishing around 6:20. He was not wearing a watch and relied on me to time-keep. He managed to pull away eventually.

Cramps

I was shocked when I found there were at least 5 runners waiting to cross the busy Jalan Ipoh-Mahameru crossroad. This should not happen. After waving at the cars, I took the lead to sprint across, mid-way I had a severe cramp attack on my right calf. The police looked at me, smiled and gave a gesture if I was ok. I skipped with my good leg and limped across. The drivers who noticed my predicament, stopped to let me through.

Keep going!

I manage to garner a bit of speed though not much after PWTC and caught sight of the no-watch Indian, the water-bottle Chinese lad and a Malay runner who had crooked knees. The 3 of them had acquainted one another and motivating as a group to toil on.

I was closing on them in the last 5 kms but they picked up speed and were soon out of sight again.


40 km

5:56:09. I must have been doing over 10mins/km. Met Nordin who said he hit the wall at km-30. He said his lungs just gave up on him. We spoke normally with no signs of exhaustion but yet our legs couldn’t move.

Finished at last!

Photo courtesy of Tey Eng Tiong.
In a marathon, it is always a huge relief to see the finishing line.
2 buses greeted me head on, that goes to show how late I was!
It was easy to spot Mee Peng and Tey Eng Tiong by the side photographing as most of the people had left.

It felt great completing despite a much slower time.
The extra hour enabled 96 runners to finish within qualifying time.

Net time : 6:15:54
Gun time: 6:16:55

Removing the champion chip for instant refund. Good idea .


Ryan

Francis Cheng

Pacesetters Great Eastern 30km

The GE30k has one of the most challenging routes, a route favored by many runners as a base to prepare for long distance races. The difficulty is offset by Pacesetters superior race organization especially in the distribution of water and sports drink. With that thought in mind, slower runners like me have less to worry.

The weather was rather humid. I ran the 1st 10km at a comfortable pace (1:27), much slower than any race before.

Along the way, somebody approached me from the opposite side and greeted, I looked up, it was Captain Ronnie, looking relax and didn’t have der trademark “Pia” facial expression. Down further, it was Dinesh, gave him a high five.
Saw Jamie too but missed out Choi.

I kept a constant check on my leg injury which I sustained in the Seremban Half-Marathon and was rather glad it did not surface after passing the 20 km mark.

On the return leg, just after the Jalan Duta Mosque, I came upon a group of 4 veteran runners. We had one thing in common, all of us were balding. We helped one another to cross the busy Jalan Duta.

Cruising confidently pass the Tennis Stadium, I had a muscle pull on my left calf that prompted me to slow to a walk. The brand new black NB shorts (RM68) I wore had a rather large zipper pocket (for a running shorts), ergonomically located by the side (not behind or front). The zipper pocket was perfect to keep things like car keys and even a handphone if weighing down the shorts is not a constraint.

I applied the home pre-packed analgesic cream Deep Heat on both my stiffening legs and pass the remainder to one of the balding runners who thought he was suppose to eat it!

Towards the last km, cars were caught in the jam along the Lake Club road. A driver wound down his car window and shouted my name. It was Jamie.

I knew how slow I had been running as towards the finishing line; many participants were already leaving, walking the opposite direction. I was a bit embarrassed when a couple of strangers cheered me on. I finished in 4:11:05. This year’s distance was probably 1 km longer.


The guy in front of me took the last finisher’s medal. I was told by the official they will post one to me. I was looking forward to the finisher’s T-shirt but this time round it was a hand towel instead.

Hanoi

Cathedral

Halong Bay

Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum

Hoan Kiem Lake.

Freshly made Vietnamese "Chee Chong Fun" for breakfast.


The French Citroens.

Typical breafast: Beef soup noodles and baguette

Vietnamese "Rojak" boiled pork with salad.


This was one trip we were not looking forward to embark. The tickets were pre-booked earlier in the year during AirAsia’s 1 million free flights promotion. It was just 3 months ago we climbed Mt.K, the thought of packing and funding the trip was disconcerting.

Our plan was to travel light, wear quick drying T-shirts that can be easily washed and reused. With the monsoon season hovering at its tail end, there was no telling if it will rain cats and dogs. The invaluable disposal raincoat has now become our permanent traveling companion.

No liquid

The new International Airlines regulation prohibits hand carry water or liquid exceeding 100ml. Water sold inside the boarding area cost 3 times more (500ml = RM5), which I felt was exploiting.

Noi Bai airport

We landed in Noi Bai airport at 7:45 p.m. Strangely, 2 young Vietnamese girls who had visa to work in a Bayan Lepas Electronics Factory were struggling to fill up the immigration form despite our reassurance that they need not do so since it is their home country. Sensing their distress, we helped them anyway to complete the forms.
The weather was no different from KL. Stars Hotel had arranged transport for us at USD10 per taxi. I anticipated the Hotel would have misspelled my name and it was the case when I saw the placard held by the cab driver.

Hooting and Flashing

I was rather taken aback by the incessant hooting and headlight flashing by the driver to signal the slower vehicles to give way. It is an acceptable mode of public road conduct, as the motorists are not offended by such gestures. Had this been in Malaysia, there would have been countless cases of road bullies and fatalities.

Stars Hotel

The hotel manager, Mr.Quang greeted us. The hotel was what I had envisaged; narrow with steep stairs leading to the bedrooms. The 4-storey building was thoughtfully crafted to optimize room space.

A typical building in the Old Town district probably measured less than 15 feet in width but its height can reach up to 6 stories! Elevators are almost non-existent.

Night Bazaar

We were given the highest floor, Level 4. The balcony gave a limited view of the Old Town district with the noise of motorbikes roaring perpetually oblivious to the locals but unsettling to first time visitors like us.

We asked Mr. Quang for recommendations to have dinner and he plotted a route on the map. I followed exactly his directions and ended in the middle of a very busy night bazaar street where peddlers sell their main commodity: Toys.

It was like a carnival, a kid’s Toyland paradise. As it turns out, the locals were doing shopping for the forthcoming Mooncake festival.

Here it is celebrated like Halloween; people wore Devil’s battery-powered red horns, impersonate Harry Porter: hat, wand and ghoulish masks. Perhaps it was a culture left behind by the previous colonial masters?



Tam Coc


Feet rowing.

Submerged limestone hills where farmers commute by small metal dinghy. An old couple rowed the boat for almost 2.5 hours, towards the last leg of the journey, the boatmen turned salesmen. They stopped rowing and begin promoting their goods. We politely declined their offer after the agreed purchase amount “suddenly” changed upon payment (we did use a calculator to show them the exact amount). Despite these tactics, we tipped them only after we got off the boat. Later, we heard from our group complaining to the tour guide that some of the boatmen refused to row unless they buy something or give tips.

Rice field graves

Traversing the countryside on the Ford minibus with bicycles and motorcycles weaving from the edge of the road, I can’t help peering through the window the rather “short” graves that were sporadically buried in the rice fields. Out of respect of the deceased, Mee Peng asked me not to photograph the subject.

The tour guide said it is customary for local peasants to bury their dead in their backyard, preferably in a damp area to accelerate decomposition. The corpse is unearthed after a period of 3 years, decomposed flesh sheared off and canistered into an urn. The urn is then re-buried in a 4-feet tomb, which explains the “shortness”.


Mens’ Drink

Cold-blooded reptiles such as snakes/cobra and lizards combined with scorpions are concocted with rice wine inside a large bottle. The local say it is a potent “men’s drink”, but I sensed it was a local brewed aphrodisiac.


Sapa

We traveled to Sapa by a night sleeper train. The journey took about 9 hours. There were 4 berths in each cabin. We shared the cabin with a friendly couple from Denmark: Niels and Helle. It was an enlightening encounter as we exchanged culture, travel experiences and chatted on various subjects for hours before retiring to bed. Later, they became our tour companions. I must say meeting new friends and foreigners was the highlight of our trip.

Niels and Helle.

The train reminded me of the thriller "Murder of the Orient Express".

We stayed at the Royal Sapa Hotel that had a long verandah with a panoramic view of the mountains.

On the day of our arrival, we trekked to the Cat Cat tribal Hmong village and visited a small hut that accommodates 20+ people.

Dan, Helle and Mee Peng inside the Hmong hut.

Corn hung on ceiling. For human consumption and animal feed.

Day 2 – Hiking


The tour guide, Dan pre-empt us that Day 2 of the hike would take 6-7 hours traversing several hills. He advised us not to respond to the locals if they followed the group or appear friendly by asking questions. The reason was these “freelancers” expect a tip and if they don’t get one, they may swear profanities. I must say Dan is one of the best and most honest tour guides that I have ever met. He earned my respect for managing the culture shock.

Our hiking group was an interesting blend; Niels from Denmark, 70-year–old Peter an Australian, Turkish by origin and later a Vietnamese, Theahm who resides in Germany.

Niels, Peter, Dan and Mee Peng

A scenic highland landscaped by terraced multi-leveled rice fields sloping gradually irrigated by the nearby waterfall. The locals resourcefully tapped the kinetic energy from the stream to
pound the paddy husk.




A ready to harvest rice-field turns yellowish green giving the landscape a colourful glaze

Cow-shit Omelette

Dan carried a bagful of baguettes (the most common bread in Vietnam, Malaysia’s roti canai equivalent) for lunch. We stopped by a hut where Dan turned Cook by frying the eggs, prepared salad and bananas.

In the midst of asking Niels to help me with a photo, I accidentally knocked the table, overturning the plate, spilling the deliciously fried omelette, on the sandy floor! Mee Peng salvaged the food by rinsing it with water.

Niels quipped we now have Cow-shit Omelette…..hehehe.
Nobody had reservation of not eating the omelette. We finished the eggs as hunger overcame cow-dung seasoning.

Afternoon nap? They slept so quietly. We did not realize their presence until later.

Buffaloes

I notice the villagers of Sapa treat their buffaloes like pets. The Sapa buffaloes are some of the coolest I have seen. They give you a stare that can mean nothing but to a tourist like me, it meant I better not make any sudden moves!



Peter negotiates with this buffalo…

Peter: “ Hello Mr.Buffalo! Why do you look so Stupid?
Can you carry me?
How much? How much? “



Kids hug the buffalo.

The Children of Sapa

Mee Peng bought a roll of Mentos but we never got to eat any as she gave it away to the children of Sapa.

The friendly kids gave Peter and Mee Peng the bamboo sticks at the start of the hike.

Yelling "Hello! Hello!". They scrambled down the hill to greet us.

Dan ask us a question:

“The farmers buy only one item when they go to town. Can you guess what is it that they buy? “

The answer was SALT.

Rice with salt water.

Hostility

Towards the last 2 kms of the trail, a group of boisterous children approached us. One of them snatched Mee Peng’s bamboo stick that was given to her earlier at the start of the hike by a hill-tribe child.
Another 2 children followed Peter like a hawk, chanting, “You take picture but you NO PAY ME!” repeatedly like an endless tape .





4WD broke down

On the way back, the Toyota Land Cruiser radiator overheated. It turned out there was no radiator cap to contain the steam. Not a problem as there was plenty of mountain water running along the road. The radiator was refilled and we were off again.


Back at the hotel I congratulated Peter for completing the entire hike. Peter said he would rather take a chance today, than risk not knowing if he would wake up alive tomorrow.
Earlier, at the start of the trek, Niels and I were a bit worried if he could sustain the entire journey.

Halong Bay

A 4 hour bus ride from Hanoi to the mainland jetty. We boarded an impressive 2-storey boat called the "Imperial Junk" and I was looking forward to a sumptuous seafood buffet.

First stop was the caves. The people believe long time ago the island was submerged in water. This is evident from the “wave” like structure inside the limestone hill cavern resembling seawater erosion.


The cave's "wave" erosion.

View from the deck.

Next stop was for snorkeling and swimming. We didn’t do any of it but instead hike up a small hill, which gave a birds-eye view of the Bay.

Sunset and sunrise were supposed to be spectacular but it was just ok for me. The photos turned out more impressive that the actual scenery probably because the digital camera enhanced the primary colours.

The blue hue and overcast was like a painting, a signature landscape of this renowned Bay.


Seafood dinner

To my slight disappointment, the lunch and dinner were not buffet style as I was looking forward to greedily rake the seafood. We dined with Dong from China, Eddy an American-El Salvadorian and Justina a Sabahan (East Malaysian). Initially all of us were rather reserved but after our meal we were energized and the group spoke enthusiastically.
Dong is part time assisting his uncle who owns a cable-manufacturing factory, to explore business opportunities in this country. She is still doing her undergraduate studies.

Dong, Eddy and Justina.

Momma (from Japan) and Dong.

The next day, the ships were seen leaving the area. I looked at the sky and it looked cloudy. Apparently there was a forecast of a storm. Upon reaching mainland, it rained. Many disappointed newly arrived tourists had to be turned back. I was told a severe storm could topple the junk ship.
We were lucky to escape the bad weather.

Perfume Pagoda

We got acquainted with Minh, 23-years of age, a local Vietnamese student through Dong. He invited us to his hometown, the famous Perfume Pagoda.

We took the public bus a distance of about 50 kms from Hanoi city costing less than VND10,000 (RM 2.50) per person. As soon as we got off from the bus, Minh’s 49-year-old dad was already waiting with 2 motorcycles. Minh took over one of the bikes, Mee Peng and I hopped in from behind and the 3 of us were off in a breeze. Sensing our apprehension of overloading, he reassured us he had good biking skills, honed from the years of childhood riding in the village.

A 1-hr boat ride similar to the type at Tam-Coc and another 1.5 hours hike up the mountain, brought us to the holy temple. On the way, we met some Israelis.

Minh making a necklace from a lotus shoot.
The name “Perfume” originated from the scent of fragrant flowers presented in the temple by worshippers.

The Perfume Pagoda temple had a very profound aura of divinity.

Minh relates to us what his grandfather told him about the place when he was a child. There was one dark section, 2 deities face each other. Couples who want children can pray to any one of the deities, each representing the sex of the child requested.

However, there was a haunting belief.

If the wish were to come true, the couple must return to the temple every year else the child will die. Minh said many foreigners, fearing the repercussions, did not dare to make the wish. However he said conversely, it is also believed the revisits can be made by representatives or none at all.

At that point, with the ambient light illuminating Minh’s face, he looked like a Messiah.
We prayed.

Dinner

Minh’s parents invited us for dinner where we had fried duck, omelette and beer. Minh’s dad reminded him not to miss the last bus to Hanoi. The whole family, his mum and 2 sisters came out to bid us goodbye. I told Minh to translate to his dad in Vietnamese that he is lucky to have a son like him.

We were worried we could have missed the bus but fortunately we didn’t.

Minh's dad and Minh.

Rushing to the bus-stop to catch the last bus.

Water Puppet Show

I am not one who enjoys live stage performances. I remember suffering in Michael Jackson’s concert years ago.
In Malaysia we have the Wayang Kulit; in the West, Puppet-on-the-String, but in Hanoi they have the theatrical Water Puppet Show.
Well-hidden underwater levers and string manipulate the puppets movements.
It was an amazing work of art and ingenious craftsmanship.

The puppet masters.

We didn’t do enough of city sight seeing. We saw Ho Chi Minh’s embalmed body at a close distance. The mausoleum’s security was extremely tight. No cameras, hand phones, bags or objects were allowed.

One-legged/Pillar Pagoda

They make do with what they have and I figured it explains how they had endured the difficult early years where war and turmoil engulfed the country. Minh told us that there is a local saying, “Each Vietnamese received a total detonation of 1000kg of bomb during the Vietnam War ”.

I believe him because in the Vietnam War, the TNT used was more than WW2!


Coming Home

After 8 long days in Hanoi, we arrived KL at 1:30 a.m. Subconsciously we were still keeping a look out for motorcycles when we cross a deserted road. My sister-in-law and her husband took us to a mamak stall in Klang for a dearly missed nasi lemak. It never tasted so good.