Sprinting My Fat Away
It was dawn. The dark sky poured down heavy rainfall over my town; Bandar Seri Begawan. If the dawn has a face, that face may have been crying throughout the night. Soon, morning came with a smile. It was the happy sun of warmth. The crying sky had it enough and there were no longer tears of rainfalls from her. The crying dark sky stopped, and soon, the quiet saddening sobs of raindrops were heard from the outside. I was laying on my bed, eyes on the ceiling.
Yesterday was my country’s 30th National Day; Brunei Darussalam. This year’s motto of Visionary Generation has gotten to my head. Like a loud whip from a lion trainer, the word vision motivated me to run. So, I grabbed my running gears and headed for a sprint, which I haven’t done for almost a year! So I proceeded to stretch at the front yard of the house and breathing in the fresh air of early morning at the same time. In the next few minutes, all parts of my limps were shocked by my sudden decision to run in the morning. My head was filled with doubtful question on whether it was really me that decided to do this running. My hands felt awkward to help inserting my lazy feet into the running sneakers that my parents had bought for me last month. And my legs were stiff and frozen when my feet touched the firm texture of the cemented ground outside. Stretches after stretches, bending after bending, cracking the bones after cracking the bones, I pulled out my strength and headed towards the main road. Standing in the middle of the road that would become my running track in the next half an hour, I imagined myself as this famous runner taking his sweet time walking to the starting point of the running track. In my head, there were spectators waving at me and shouted my name. I waved an imaginary wave at the empty deserted field across road. I waved at the neighboring houses. Hopefully, none of them waved back. Then, I proceeded to jog like normal joggers do.
After running almost one kilometer repeating the same destination to and fro, from the spot in front of the main gate and to the very end of the junction to the left towards the main road, my old days as a vigilant young man who love to run, entered my memory. As the memory to those young days came into vision, like a wild man, I decided to sprint my fat away. I used to sprint when I was in my early twenties. Much to the teaching of the YouTube trainers whom educational sport values never failed to motivate fat viewers like me to shape our lifestyle better.
Hesitation never came into my mind. I was the champion. I was the runner. In my mind, I was this champion runner taking step into the arena of sprinters amongst the best of the best, competing to the title of being the best sprinter and runner in the world. Imagination after imagination came into view inside my head. I proceeded to act like a sprinter and took my bow. I bent my knees and stretched my toe against the rough surface of the road. I pressed my thumbs and forefingers very hard against the surface of the soon-to-be my running track. It hurt a bit, but my imaginary thoughts had taken the pain away. I took a quick glimpse of the narrow road ahead then closed my eyes. My ears were listening to some rap music via my iphone. I increased the volume of the music and sang a few verses out. Like a hero in a movie, I opened my eyes in a dramatic fashion and I turned my head back to make sure that there was no one behind me. Seconds later, I sprint. I sprint and sprint and sprint. The hundred meter sprint was nothing. It was quick like pulling off a bandage. Seconds later, I was coughing and breathing heavily in front of the main gate. I collapsed down on the low hill in front of the main gate with satisfaction drawn across my tired face. I smiled and blurted out DAMN. It was refreshing. It was great. The feeling of allowing your heartbeat to beat in rapid fashion could wash away all your troubles and problems in your world. It was breathe taking and pleasurable.
The joy of breathing heavily grabbed my shoulder like a proud couch to his talented athlete. The fresh morning air was very welcoming like patriotic song being played from the loud speaker overhead. So, like a pro sprinter, I decided to take another round. It was an idiotic decision because it was almost a year that I haven’t sprint. For certain, there’s no way my muscle and heartbeats could recognize the sudden attack of muscle contraction and rapid heartbeats that came so suddenly. So, again I walked towards the end of the junction which was the starting point. This time, I decided to add more distances. I added few meters. In this second round, it was almost as if, I ran for a 200 meter sprint!
And away I go. My ears were listening to fast phased music. My arms swayed to and fro like someone sawing a thick tree in the forest. My hands were shaped into a knife. My eyes were staring on the blurry road. And my heart bet like boiling raptured engine boat. As I almost reached to the very end of the road, my running speed deteriorated. My speed got slower and slower. I had done it. It was my second round of sprinting. I stopped after that and I was breathing very heavily. But this time, my breathing was different than the previous one. There was no pleasure or feeling of victory. It’s as if, my breathing failed to synchronize with my heartbeats. It was very difficult to follow the rhythm. I realized that I was breathing. But, like in a parallel world, I was breathing no air. Air was there, but oxygen did not enter my lungs. It’s as if, I was breathing under water. My vision became blurry. My legs became weak. I was drowning in land. Again, I collapsed down the low hill in front of the main gate. I was actually laying down the dirty road. Few hours ago, there was raining. So the road was dirty and damp. But, when you were exhausted like I did, hygiene was no longer a priority. Air was the fundamental prerequisite to your survival. Air was like this expensive element that in your mind, you would not mind to purchase a sip of fresh air for a hundred dollar.
I was lying on the low hill for almost half an hour. But, I was still breathing heavily. Usually, when exhaustion attacked me, I would regain my stamina after doing some stretching or after doing some breathing exercises. But this time, none of them helps. I was near death. I walked towards my house and again collapsed down the marble floor as soon as I reached to the entrance door. The marble floor was inviting. It’s as if, I could sleep on the floor. My heartbeats were still beating quickly like a running train. So I took off my shirt and my shoes and socks away. I thought the tightness of the shirts and shoes were the main reason for this dreadful exhaustion. Unfortunately, it was not.
Later, my shoulder was still carrying this insane exhaustion. I entered the house and headed towards the kitchen. The journey was like 100 years of travel. As I was walking through the living room and into the kitchen, it seemed like there was this strong wind blowing against my face. For a second, my eyes felt the sting by this imaginary wind. Then, I reached into the kitchen. It was like heaven. There was water container situated on the marble stone compartment by the window. I grabbed one glass from the shelves and I pressed the tap from the water container. The sound of the rushing water into my glass was music to my ear and life to my head. I could make it, I said to mysef. The glass became heavier after every ounces of water filled up my glass. As soon as the glass was half filled, I gulped the water down my throat. The water entered my mouth, wetted my lips, massaged my tongues and washed away the dryness inside my throat. I took another round. The water tasted sweet and tasty.
But, my exhaustion was still pushing my weight down. Like a person being pressed against the wall by a blurry man with a large palm, I was still dying with blurriness, abdomen pain and very rapid level of heartbeats. I tried to breathe. But, there was no air. Again, it was like a nightmare, floating in the dead space with a cracked helmet and torn apart spacesuit.
It was absolute nightmare. So I laid down the kitchen floor for a few minutes. Gulped a few glass of water. Regained my consciousness and dared to stand up. I stood up, but my weak legs could not hold the entire body straight. So, I muster myself to the living room and collapsed down onto this red cushion Rosewood sofa. The soft pillow was welcoming and relaxing. My wet hair drenched the pillow with sweats. My arms rested against my sweaty forehead. I could hear the heartbeat inside my chest as I was lying down. My feet were sore and my knees felt strange. I tried to bend them, but they replied with unfriendly soreness.