Self-loathing.

I'm in a self loathing mood again.

I don't really know why I get into these moods. I like to blame it on introversion. It's kinda cheating and saying that I am depressed because my inherent nature makes it so but I think it has a huge part to play in this kind of see-sawing mood that I get myself into.

It happens after every single dance night. Every single dance party. I have a good time somewhere and then I come home, unknowingly mad at myself that I had a good time. Am I restricting myself from having a good time? Is it a bad thing that I want to have a good time but yet, I'm inwardly sabotaging myself? And why on earth would I voluntarily do that to myself? Set myself up for failure?

I dance and dance and have an amazing time and then I hate myself for it.

Time and again, I wonder whether it's worth pursuing this. Maybe they are better off without me. Maybe they would be doing better if I wasn't in the picture.

I wonder, sometimes, about my self-arrogance. I tell myself all the time that I'm an integral part of a team, that I'm part of something bigger than myself. And that's something I tell myself everyday. I wonder if what I really am afraid of is the fact that the words I tell myself on a daily basis is actually a lie. A big fat comforting lie. I want to hear that I am wanted. Needed. Validated. And yet, at the end of the day, I'm cringing because deep down inside, there's a part of me that believes that I'm lying to myself and that it isn't true.

What part of lying do I not understand? Funny, 'cos I lie all the time.

It's too late for thoughts like these. It's too late to want to think about things like these.

It's all or nothing, I tell myself. I keep telling myself that I'm this kind of guy. I am either all in or I am so far out of your universe. I don't play in halves. I'm either in or out and that's that.

But I know that if I pull away, I'm gonna miss it. And yet, if I continue to stay in the game, there'll be repeated moping posts on the blog. What the hell right?

Sigh. Never mind...

Worth v2.0

It's one of those times again.

For some reason, after dance parties or any major dance events that get me all hyped up and excited, the emotional crash afterwards really don't seem to be worth it.

I taught a class today. It was quick, witty (so I thought), and I had heaps of fun. I went for supper afterwards with the usual crew and we had our laughs. And then after that, I came home.

And sitting in the taxi on the ride back, a thought came into mind.

"Maybe all of this isn't worth it."

Maybe if I was to invest my heart and soul into this, it would get torn up, chewed out and spat back in my face. Am I willing to take that risk? To be honest, I'm not sure what I am afraid of. What scares me? If you were to ask me that question, I actually cannot give you an answer at all. This is the hardest I have ever worked for ANYTHING, and yet, I cannot tell you if I am fully dedicated to it.

Dance is going great for me. Got my fattest "paycheck" this week from a combination of the workshop that I taught on the weekend as well as class tonight. I've come up with a dance routine that can potentially become the best choreography I've done in a long while. So many things that I'm looking into. But yet, I'm holding back.

A proverb I used to hold on to quite dearly quoted, "He who hesitates is lost."

This particular phrase got me doing so many things that I would never ever do. Salsa dancing. An impromptu trip to a city for a dance weekend. Buying my $1000 tailsuit. Packing up my life and travelling halfway across the world for a girl I loved and wanted to have a real relationship with.

Starting Ceroc Merlion City.

So many things have happened this year and I remembered bitching previously about how when I was all ready to leave, this happened. All the excitement and commitment into a dance business occurred and I had to make this impromptu decision to stay. When the immigration papers come through for the Girlfriend and myself, I have to decide whether we stay or go. On to our new lives? Do I decide to put down roots here and end up here for good? Is this destiny? What if it isn't? What is right and what is wrong?

Is happiness the benchmark? The end by which all means is acceptable?

*****

I found a piece of myself from 2010 on the Internet the other night. It was an impromptu Google search and a hastily typed in URL which, surprisingly enough, existed. I read the one and only entry that I had written on that particular blog and I remembered the social dance event that we were practising for that morning. It was a chilly morning and the winds had picked up after the rain had stopped. I remembered not thinking about the French Lady when I woke up that morning and that made me smile. I wasn't emotionally drawn to her that much anymore. Every small victory counts, I guess.

My blog always had the title of "Chapter Life - Prologue" as a nod to the fact that I felt that my life has yet to truly begin. And I was not sure when it would. What would I be doing when the moment finally struck, when lightning zapped me from head to toe and I could comfortably write on the blog, "My life has begun."?

On this particular blog, my new blog title was Chapter Life. That's it. Finito. Nothing more than that.

Because for me, this was where my life started. I buzz cut my hair. I got contact lenses from a friend of mine who started up an optometrist shop. I got heavily involved with salsa and earned a 2nd place medal dancing cuban salsa in the National Champs. I was so proud of myself. This was my life. My own choosing. My destiny is shaped by my hands.

And now, I'm here. Has Life begun afresh? Is there now Life - Chapter 2? Is dance going to take over the next decade? Am I going to see the realisation of a dream that took nearly a decade to come into existence?

I don't know, really. But at least at the end of the day, I still know that this destiny is mine to make.

*****

I'm probably a closet voyeur. Yes, Sociologist, I know. Sometimes, I want to put my blog out there, splay it wide like a naked, de-feathered chicken for the world to see. And yet, I am fearful for the fact that I will be criticised. My thoughts torn asunder. My deepest darkest secrets, defaced into oblivion. So I keep typing in the dark, the glow of the keys keeping this blog a secret, only known to a handful that I know will bear this to the depths of a grave.

*****

Once upon a time, my love asked me if I was ashamed of her. She did not exist in my social online world. No mention of her has ever been made, no inkling of her being in my life was ever recorded. Am I ashamed? I don't think so. But the alternative to splay myself like a bloody chicken is for me, not an option.

One day, I won't have to hide in the dark. I may be able to blog publicly. I may be able to share my thoughts and dreams to the world and let the love of my life come into the light.

One day. One day.

Blessings.

I sometimes think of what I'm writing here on this blog and I wonder whether I'm writing for the sake of filling some pages or am I writing this as an outlet - an unleashing of my thoughts and my unspoken words.

I had a chat to the Higher Authorities yesterday and I must admit that it was one of those talks that kept me very happy and enthusiastic about my life here so far.

Personally, I have always wondered whether, if I had pursued a different path, whether or not I would have gotten more "blessings" on it.

Now, that's actually a really Christian thing to say so for some people who are a bit lost about what I'm talking about, let's do a bit of an explanation. It may be a bit simple and probably it's just me who thinks this but hey, to get a better overall picture regarding this blog post, see if this works.

For those non-Christian readers, in Christianity, one really big thing for us if we embark to do something or go somewhere is to get divine approval, hence "blessings." It could be a "go to church and pray that God smiles upon this mission/act/whatever" and that "circumstances will lead you to God's favour."

Now, I'm also of Asian descent and I think it's really important to have the blessings/favour from the parents as well to say that they agree with my decision and that I am going ahead with their well wishes. For Caucasians or people who are probably a bit less traditionally minded and more liberal in their thinking, you may be thinking, "WHATEVER FOR?" Well, here's a new way of doing things so here's a good chance to take some notes.

It could be a luck thing, I guess. Some people have suggested that these well wishes/blessings/favour upon this may be a kind of a chance thing that whatever I am doing will go more smoothly or successfully just because I've got this additional "+10" blessing thing going on. Reminds me of those RPG games where you can change your luck by casting a particular magic spell or get healed by the healer/priest/magic caster unit.

I think it's important, anyway.

This reminds me of a scene out of the old classic, "Fiddler on the Roof" where Perchik asks for Hodel's hand in marriage and he says, "I'm not asking for permission. I'm only asking for your blessing."

I digress.

When I first planned to come to Merlion City in the hopes of a better paying job and a different life outside of WangaVegas, I never really had any particular prior approval on this world-gallivanting adventure. Talking to the Higher Authorities, they were always very skeptical of me moving out of Aotearoa and they wanted me to stay in NZ and do the whole hospital job thing and/or possibly move down to Dunners to be with the family. Any potential talk of Merlion City was "forbidden" and I would be asked to discuss my options within Aotearoa at that point in time.

When the time came, I felt as though I left with a bad taste in my mouth and the ensuing "dissatisfaction" of the folks. They would occasionally talk about how I could leave the country when they just migrated over and how it would be nice to have the family together, la dee da, the usual.

But I was ready for a change. And I wanted something different. I didn't want  to stay in Wangas. I felt that I was rotting away day by day. And as much as I had cuban salsa and I had my room and my comfort zone, I had enough.

So I moved.

It's been a crazy six months.

I spoke to GoofyGirl six months ago. She remembered me from the first time we danced together in 2011 when I first went to the dance workshop with the Ceroc teachers. She asked if I wanted to get involved with the setup of ceroc in Merlion City. We would need to take part in teacher training and then after that, we would be getting it up and running. Scary thoughts.

I discussed with the Higher Authorities regarding this. I was keen but cautious. After all, we're all young and technically, I'd never set up a business before and wanted to just dampen my toes before I jumped in the pool.

And unsurprisingly, there wasn't too much support with the whole dancing career thing either.

Putting down slightly more than a grand and a half was my sign of commitment that I was serious about this. No, I didn't want GoofyGirl to pay for it. The Higher Authorities played the Devil's Advocate. I was upset and frustrated.

And then, at the end of the day, I thought to myself, "Stuff it."

Dancing and teaching dance has always been a hidden passion. I danced, sure, people knew that, but to tell them that I aspire to dance and teach dancing every single day, every single moment? That took guts and a bit more than just lip service.

I transferred the money and told myself that I am going to make the most out of this experience.

And I did. And heck, it's been one hell of a ride.

I've had so much fun since ceroc started up in Merlion City. It's crazy. Tuesdays cut the week in half and I'm waking up on Wednesday morning itching for another session. Too bad there isn't one available. We're having ceroc socials and events and pub crawls and workshops and I've been asked to do my 2nd private lesson along with another lady who wants to improve her technique. How can I NOT enjoy what I'm doing?

Chatting with GoofyGirl recently at a dance party that we were out at recently, she mentioned to me that if ceroc ever made it big and rich in Merlion City and I wanted to quit my job, she would hire me as Dance Director on the spot.

[On that note, though, I did tell the Higher Authorities that I appreciated the fact that they played the Devil's Advocate and that they stopped me back in the day from going out on a limb and starting a dance business stat. I'm no organizer and my work is shoddy. That said, I love dancing and teaching. So GoofyGirl and I are a pretty good team, if I do say so myself.]

I've told the Higher Authorities about the excitement that's coming up out of this and the one thing that they told me, that shook me to my very core, was "Maybe I should take out some money and give it to you to invest in this business."

For me, that was my "blessing." And after a long, soul searching talk with the Sociologist last night, I realised that it's not about luck. Or approval. It's not about getting an unfair advantage over the competition.

It's about knowing you're on my side. Knowing that you've got my back on this. And I guess, that's all I ever wanted.

Uncertainty.

How do you ever know if what you're doing is the right thing? How do you know that you want this, you really really want this and this leap that you're going to make into the chasm is not going to be one that you're going to want to backpedal out of 10 seconds into the free fall?

How are you really sure?

Clairvoyants then will tell you seek their advice, look into their crystal balls, watch the ways the tarot cards fall, follow deeply ingrained lines in your palms, and drink and read tea leaves. Whatever.

The more faithful will ask of you to seek the will of the Almighty, to ask for his blessing or his condemnation upon an ideal that is not part and parcel of the life that you were not meant to lead.

But it's fuzzy. So fuzzy.

Like radio static. You never quite get to the end of it. You never quite catch the last word.

You never do.

Hindsight.

There’s a phrase somewhere that says that hindsight is a wonderful thing. Of course it is. Anything and everything looks better upon reflection.

I posted on Facebook the other day, “I’ll miss you when I go.” Thankfully, there has  not been too many speculations on that post just yet. But I think…no. I know that I will miss this place when I leave.

Merlion City is one of those places that I always thought of as far away, as distant as New York or London. Paris. Moscow. One of those places that I never thought I would be in. But here I am and I’ve been here for 2.5 years. And possibly longer.

Is it possible to love a place and hate it at the same time? What do I hate about S’pore?

I’ve lived away from family for more than 4 years now. I’ve always wanted to seek my own independence, my own time, my own freedom. And perhaps, I got it. I moved first to WangaVegas, had a whale of a time, and then it was on as far away from the cold as I could possibly get. And what better place than to come to the Equator? Merlion City was a distant jewel, like Dubai. Hm. Dubai. Might be a good spot. Heh.

I love it. I love the food. I love the heat. I love the fact that I could rock to the beach and it’s actually blisteringly hot. There’s such a thing as a tan. Pools are cool and not heated. I can jump straight into corrupted Singlish/Manglish whenever I wish and I feel like I belong. Am I really that much of a third culture kid? Possibly? Maybe? No? Whatever.

I think though, as times go by, and especially when work is such a big part of everyday life, things start to grind on you. Work for example. Little mistakes. Things that just get in your grill. I mean, work takes up 33% of your daily life. You spend at least 8 hours at work and the rest of it is either sleeping or eating or taking a shower or commuting. What’s the point of spending a third of your life at something you hate? Honestly?

I was discussing with Dory this very matter. What I would have done differently, giving me another 3 years, or even 5 years. Would I have signed that contract for Wangas? Would I have decided to abandon everything and come to Singapore? All over again? What would have happened?

I may have stayed in Wangas for another year. Easy. I had the salsa crowd. The rueda spirit. I was a “dance teacher” then. Hated my job though. Maybe Palmy would have been easier on me. My friend was there. I guessed we could have ended up competing a lot more and getting better. I could possibly have trained to become a ceroc instructor then. But then again, I never really thought that Palmy would have been a good destination for me, either. Too many cold winters. (Obviously, HEAT is a BIG issue.)

I like it here. Ceroc Merlion City here feels good. I like the crowd. I like the enthusiasm. I like what we’ve got going on here. I like being the pioneer to something bigger than myself. Something that I might possibly leave as a legacy. Don’t want it to be something I just leave behind though. I still miss the Wangas crowd sometimes and I know that they miss me. Dancing was good there, though, not as big or as good as I would like it to be.

I just wished that things could have happened sooner. A lot sooner. Then the regrets won’t be so late at this point in time.

Sparkle.

Your eyes sparkle, she says. 

What does that mean? I asked, a smile twitching at my lips. That said, people have said weirder things to me before. 

Your eyes, she again insists. They sparkle when you dance. I have never seen you this happy any other time of the day. 

Oh, come off it! I make a modest attempt at blushing. You know that is just ridiculous!

But it's true, isn't it? Tell me, what moves you? What else in your normal day makes you feel on top of the world apart from dancing? 

The world grows quiet. Just for a moment.

And then the question drowns in a rush of noise and haze. 

I've been growing through a bit of a rough patch. Yes yes, no doubt, my blog posts sound all good and fluffy and happy bunny rabbits jumping all over the place but those who truly know me knows that it's barely temporary cover. Yesterday, the first time in a long while, I posted an angry, full of swears, status update on Facebook. You know, it's one of those passive aggressive statements that is supposed to make people wonder what is going on and to question you about whether you're all right. It's stupid and really childish. In fact, I'm going to remove that. Hold on.

All right. Done.

It doesn't take a genius to see that, sometimes.

Count me in.

Life's been good to me. So far.

I'm getting good comments on my volunteer work. Dance class is getting exciting. I just had a dinner meeting with Goofy Girl and there's so many exciting ideas all up in the air about what we can do to make ceroc awesome in Merlion City. Of course, we're just starting out and we're still fresh faces but there's so many awesome ideas.

I'm gonna miss this when I leave. I definitely am gonna miss this.

Sometimes, I do ask myself why do all these opportunities come at a point in time when I'm so ready to go. Karma/fate/whatever, why do you do THIS to me? It's hard enough trying to appease everyone but right when I'm about to pack up and leave...suddenly, everything comes to this one point and I'm left literally fumbling a little. I didn't expect this. But then again, these things are NEVER expected. They crash up and out of the blue into your face and by the grace of all that is good and kind that you don't blink and miss out this one chance.

So much can happen. So little time. I mean, it's been 2.5 flippin' years since I've been here. Why now? Why all this suddenly? I like to think I control my fate but now, it just seems slightly cruel. Is my fate going to be in Merlion City for a bit longer? Or for a lot longer? I'm suddenly thinking long term about a whole lot of things that I usually would not think about. Too much to write here. Gotta clear the brain a little.

Birthdays, dance circles, and other shenanigans.

Quite a bit has happened recently. What with me and the Girlfriend aging a bit less gracefully, dancing helping me celebrate by making me dance with both men and women alike (no, not in that way), dinners, cakes, food, and more food, and oh well. I think I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

 
The Girlfriend hit the BIG 27 years young recently and of course, there was cause to celebrate. Cake, candle, a lovely sponge with crunch little bits on the inside and amazingly light cream ended an overly full Japanese buffet lunch.

As with all buffets, the more people eating, the merrier. So we took along one of the Girlfriend’s work colleagues who probably weighs half my weight but eats like a friggin’ cow. Good times.

 
Thought this quite cute so I plopped it up here.

It’s my 3rd birthday here in Sunny S’pore. I did not think I was going to make it this far for this long. There’s a proverb that I can’t quite grasp at that mentions something about time and perseverance and living life but I can’t really remember it. I keep thinking about the times I talked about hating my job so much and all the little different stresses but to be fair, Merlion City has been kind to me. I’ve enjoyed my stay here and with a few different exciting ventures popping up, I’m hoping that I’ll be able to stay for a little longer.

That said, I’m ending up feeling a little bit restricted. After all, tigers are solitary animals and they travel over large distances to get the space they need. (Click on the link if you lurve reading research articles.)

I like how the light blurs and sparkles in the background here. The Girlfriend is a bit up front and centre but I think she was getting slightly annoyed as I had more than a few false starts and with playing on the manual modes and getting apertures and shutter speed correct, she was like “HURRY UP!” Hence, the bad shot.

And here’s a hilarious video of me doing a dance circle at Ceroc the other night.

Thanks, y’all.

The road not taken.

It's so cliche to quote Robert Frost. Really. Ever since I learnt that simple 4 line stanza poem in high school, it has always haunted the edges of my literary memory, to be thrown out at what seems like opportune times to bemoan the fact that things are not going my way and that I have to write down my sob stories. 

I wrote in the Moleskine the other night, saying, "This post is supposed to be about regrets." It is supposed to be about all the missed chances and strokes of luck that I have been brushing off and ignoring and how hindsight is a wonderful thing that I can look back on and inspect with a magnifying glass all the stuff I missed out on because I played it safe.

This is not one of those posts. 

Oh hell, no. It ain't at all.

This post is about the road that I took. Ole' Rob starts off his bit of poetry with,

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both,

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth

 Good old poetry/literature will never voluntarily tell you that a road is a road. It will tell you that it is a choice, a means of tavel, a silken whisper, a dark bridge to the unknown. To describe it as a tar-sealed concrete path is just boring, no? 

People who have possibly read me in the past would know that I have always been fascinated by dancing and I enjoy it to the fullest. Dancing thrives in my veins like oxygen in my lungs. The sore aches that assemble themselves overnight from an evening of dancing is nothing comparable to half marathon aches. Even something as "light" as ballroom sets the calves on fire and I feel that my shoulders have been dislocated the next morning. Or maybe I'm just really unfit. Who knows, eh? One of my biggest dreams was to start a dance studio, complete with dance classes, etc. I'd be teaching every night or every other night and every night was a party in and of itself. The ceiling itself opened up to the heavens and on clear nights, the stars would sparkle and the moon would shine and I would open it up so everyone could dance in the moonlight whilst "Dancing in the Moonlight" played over the speakers. What a dream. 

But I always held back. I'd like to fault the Higher Authorities who always told me to focus on something more solid and more firm, and that education is the way to go and I should be focusing on my career. But I think its as much my fault as theirs. I never bothered to do more than just b*tch about it. Never tried to focus on taking up a teacher's training course, never bothered researching into how much capital I would have to sink into making this dance thing a reality. Just whining. All I did. Maybe if I did show them how serious I was about it, they would have supported me. But never mind. 

I've been living in Merlion City for the last two years. I thought that I was only going to be here for 2 years. This is rapidly approaching the 6 month mark of my 3rd year here in S'pore. How time flies. Really, it does. And every time I got ready to pack up and leave, something comes up my way. It faintly reminds me of when I was in Wangas. Dance happened for me. I stayed and stayed and stayed. I thought that I would be there for a while. And it was a complete paradigm shift that allowed me to move my arse, submit a resignation letter and then find myself halfway across the world from where I pretty much called my life around me home. 

It's probably deja vu. Goofy Girl sends me a WhatsApp message asking me if I want to teach ceroc in S'pore as she was looking to get it started. Had a call from a clinic offering me ridiculous amounts of money to do part time work. Had the interview but that fizzled out. Friend of mine hooked me up with an opportunity to supervise junior physios. That went through. I actually enjoyed myself going through notes, chatting to them, finding out what makes them click, recommending treatments and therapies, and then I get paid straight away for it. Awesome. 

Getting registration in S'pore is a cinch. Paperwork is going through and I can show that I am maintaining my practice of my normal day to day skills that puts money on the table. 

I signed up for beginner teacher's training. I think I passed it (still awaiting results since April.) Taught classes twice and got super excited about classes. Dancing is back on my mind. After the disappointment of 2011, my spirit crushed and wilted, I think I've found it again. I'm playing music in my head again, thinking how I would dance it, how I would do things differently and then realising that it is not worth it and I should allow myself to move to the beat naturally rather than plan it all out first.

It's been great. I'm starting to find that dancer's body sitting under a whole year of non-exercise. Slow and steady though. I've yet to start rockin' my previous 4 pack but let's hope that with regular activity, I can finally flaunt six. *wink*

At this stage, everyone probably thinks I'm just living the high life right now with everything going great around me. I wish I could agree to that statement but I can't quite say that just yet. There's still a few things that I'm hoping to fall into place before I agree that my life is awesome. My health and level of fitness is still a topic of contention and I'm still hoping that it will improve rather than stagnate and I'm left still in the same level of health that I was before. I'm still trying to find a source of excitement on a day to day basis but I dare say that I don't think I'm willing to go that far just yet. G is getting used on a daily basis and I'm practising and hoping that I'll be able to get some pretty good shots in so this blog isn't all about words all the time. 

So.

Yes.

This is the road I've taken. 

And like Rob's poem, I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence. Because when Goofy Girl sent me that message and I replied with a big, enthusiastic "YES!", when my friend hooked me up with that supervisory role and I leapt at the chance, I took that road less travelled by, and by the grace of God, that has made all the difference. 

I Made it thru’ the Rain – Barry Manilow

We dreamers have our ways
Of facing rainy days
And somehow we survive

It has been quite a few days since I posted here. Probably because I’m now hiding in my diary quite a bit. Is that a bad thing?

Previously, I used to think that it would be cool that my thoughts were privy to the people around me. Of course, not everyone around but enough people that I care about and with whom I would share my thoughts with. But it is starting to get a bit more difficult. Maybe it is an introvert thing. Too much sharing = too little privacy.

This was a compression t shirt that I picked out for a bit of motivation. A Reebok shirt with a Crossfit themed “No Excuses” etched into the sleeve, it made me want a tattoo all the more. Heh. But methinks that my 21 minute a day workout is starting to take effect, eh?

We keep the feelings warm
Protected from the storm
Until our time arrives

 
And in an insane moment of wanting to be fit, I made probably smartest fitness choice of my life – I bought a a pair of gymnastic rings. It also allows me to do my TRX exercises and revise them and heck, the stability required to use them is a pain in the proverbial.

Cleaning up my nutrition recently definitely helps – eating less rice and more protein and veges along with Noah’s arkload of water has had people asking me if I have lost weight. The above picture is what I eat on my cheat day. Yes. Cheat day. A day where my nutritional values go to hell and I am allowed to eat whatever the
!@$#$ I want. I obviously love  my cheat days.

Then one day the sun appears
And we come shining through those lonely years

The above bracelet reads: “Invictus: I am the Master of my Fate, I am the Captain of my Soul.”

I made it through the rain
I kept my world protected
I make it through the rain
I kept my point of view
I made it through the rain
And found myself respected
By the others who got rained on too and made it through

It was taken from a poem of the same name, Invictus, and serves as a daily reminder for me that no matter where I am in Life or what Life decides to throw at me and as much as the Big Guy up there keeps me safe and trouble free, I am ultimately in possession of what happens to my life right now. And hence, I need to make sure that I take the steps to make it happen. Coincidentally, the great Winston Churchill quoted this same exact line in a speech during WWII where the Brits were having their asses handed to them by Germany.

So in the spirit of taking matters in my own hands, I go through literal sweat oceans whenever I exercise. It is definitely a psychological effect, sweating what seems to be the equivalent of a 1.5 litre bottle of water, that I feel slimmer after all the lactic acid burn although there is no evidence showing that more sweat = more weight loss. Unfortunately. And I am aware that it’s not a reputable source so shut up.

For the heck of it and also for the fact that I insanely signed up for a marathon (as in 42.195km, mind you), I joined a “fun” 10km run and dragged the Girlfriend into it. After early morning workouts where we are both left half dead at the fitness corner, she was able to finish the run with a glorious time of 1:30 hours. Not bad for someone who’d never run more than a 5k in her life, eh?

And to prove we managed to actually do it, here’s the related photo with her and her finisher medal. (That flashy thing around her neck with the repeated 2XU branding on it. Me, I’m not wearing the finisher medal but I rarely end up that red without a lot of physical exertion. Trust me on this one.

 
Pardon the poor shot.

This is a picture taken on the same day as the run where, as a treat for both of us for doing such a good job in running that torturous 10k. There’s a secret video of the Girlfriend somewhere repeatedly and breathlessly stating, “No more run” as we came to the finish line. She is soooo cute.

So to celebrate this achievement, we went to watch Le Noir, former Cirque du Soleil performers who portray the “intimate, dark, naughty side of Cirque.” I like. +)

 
That’s the photo blogpost for the last time I didn’t blog until now. Keeping quite busy and there’s quite a lot of things to think about and consider.

*****

On a completely different note, I have paid for and am getting my certification as a Ceroc UK Beginner’s teacher. The course starts tomorrow and requires two whole days of training for me, plus another 3 days of training after work with an intense video examination which will be sent to the UK HQ for dissection before they decide that I am good enough to be one of them.

I had a training session with the girls yesterday who are also looking to become instructors. In a way, I pity them, as they had to learn to lead and also learn to narrate and teach whilst dancing the moves, etc. They’re doing all right, though, but it comes to a serious realization that I might need to “hold the fort” so to speak, for the most bit. Out of all of them, I turn out to be the one with the most dancing/teaching experience so I’m hoping I will be up to the task.

It keeps me interested and this is something that I have always wanted to do for a long time but I have never had the chance or had enough interest to go ahead and complete. 

They say that on your deathbed, you never regret the things you have done [That, I can say, is a lie. There are things I regret already.] but you regret the things that you have never done/had a chance to do. Living it up and beyond? Maybe? Who knows.