朽木百哉のブォグ

Back to battle week.  The number wars continue and l am once again having a later than usual lunch. However, I am not the winner this time round as a colleague had decided to stay later for the break.

I can't say much about the day yet as it's really not over till the next 3 hours are done.  Let's see how things go later.

Though being a windy season, the climate has heated up hence the challenge against running in a hot environment has begun.

I have been out of action for the last couple of weeks in view of union matters as well as nursing from a cold spell.  It's simply irritating when that spell hits, rendering one in a state of depleted energy.

At least I managed to complete the run for this time.  It might just be that lazy mood as a result of too much carbohydrate loading the night before at a family event.

A better run awaits me during the week.

I entered this rustic village by boat, where traditional muscoal instruments are being played in special enclosures; one of them was shaped like a little house where only the props making the music could be seen from the front; however from the side, one can see a band of 3 using windpipe and cymbals to create that melody.

The village was wooden planks afloat a water body, closely knitted like a small community.

Next scene showed me participating in a run, which was held in a large area of nature (all vegetation and no man-made stuff); I saw an ex colleague, Catherine, a Texasian, and a few good companies; we had started awhile and I took the leap forward to warm up my run.

Next scene showed me taking a sum of random money to redeem a kidnappee; this place was in the middle of slums which was sandy in colour tone and quite well built-up.  The sum was about $20k and I piggy-back carried the child out of the area.  Strangely,  there was neither anyone guarding the child's holding area, nor any deals exchanged.

As I hurried my way out, I spotted a commotion and then realised that this slum community was mainly made up of Thais, as there was a squad leader of the riot police talking to them in their local language.  For some reasons, the riot police squad on standby there were all in golden uniform, and the squad had metallic shiny helmets like those used in parades.

The alarm clock went off at 6am but by the time I got up, it was already 7:15am.

I entered this building which was packed and dimly-lit.  For a moment, it reminded me of Peninsula Plaza, an old shopping mall that was located within a stone's throw from the defucted Capitol Theatre.

The familiar sights of shops selling casual / streetwear surrounded me; one of these sells Red Indian accessories as a form of fashionwear.  As I walked along, I soon found myself getting involved in a cosplay photoshoot, dressed as one of the Captains in Bleach anime.  As it is a group shot, I helped prepared others to get into position.

Over my shoulder, I signalled for Songjie to come over since he was also dressed as one and we didn't have an exact 'copy' of his character in our group.  It took him awhile as I spotted him upstairs and there are still, many cos-ers walking around.

Alarm rang at 6am and I realised that I have seemingly stayed awake theoughout this journey.

It was a cold start; seemed like I was still halfway in slumber though I've physically awoken and gotten ready for that run; I needed an early start as I missed a schedules long distance run yesterday.

There were intervals of brisk walking as muscles felt lethargic and simply won't warm up, so much so that I could not do even half of the desired long run, so I had to turn back to prematurely end the morning run.

The speed training was considerable satisafactory, since I has attempted a faster pace.  Same circular track; the biggest barrier is to break the mental dread of running in circles as one would during IPPT.

Welcome the rain at my 7th round as it was a good cooling wash while I was at the peak of running.  It made the remaining run much more refreshing before I headed for a final dash.

Within 5mins upon laying unto bed, I saw myself slowly seeping through the gates of dreamland and at that moment, I could see myself floating between the world of consciousness and the world that I see during the mental rest.

A considerable pressure was put on the mind with those numbers.  I even saw myself talking to a colleague about weekly reports in the course of this, what should be called, a rest time.  Nothing beats such a quick entrance to slumber after so long.

Probably the speed training on Sunday had a contributing factor to make today a recovery day, but here I am, still in the battling of the numbers.