Run for your life
MIDDLE-AGE spread is the ugliest thing a man -- or woman -- can possess. The ancient Chinese used to joked about a big belly being the sum of all good stuff. Well, in the bad old days most people seldom had enough to eat, so a big belly was indeed a sign that one was well-to-do and having more than one's fill of life.
Today, a belly hanging out from a middle-age person is a sign of indolence and gluttony. It is an unnecessary burden to carry, and eventually it drags down the owner into all kinds of hellish afflictions -- creaky joints, high-blood pressure, diabetes, gout and eventual stroke and heart attack.
Gout attack
Once upon a time, I too was carrying a belly, the result of too many nights consuming lard-encrusted noodles (the infamous "char-kway-teow" of Singapore), sauce-stewed fatty pork (a Hakka favourite dish), fiery chilli crab, marbled beef steak on a sizzling cast-iron hot plate, and golden-fried tender spring chicken, all washed down into my small and large intestines by a Niagara of beer.
One day, when I was about to enter middle age (which, for me, starts at 40), I was suddenly felled by an attack of gout. Believe me, the pain was unbearably exquisite, concentrating on the left big toe. I was flat on my back, unable to rise because the slightest movement of the foot would cause an invisible demon to twist a steel needle through my body.
My boss then, an expansive, round-bodied Englishman called Mike Annetts, who insisted we had a mid-afternoon "Happy Hour" drinking session every Wednesday in his office, used to joke that gout was caused by slow horses and fast women. I soon discovered from the doctor that red meat (pork, duck, mutton, beef, crabmeat, shrimps), beer-drinking and lack of exercise were the culprits and as I didn't like the idea of lying on my back in excruciating agony, I decided there and then to stop my gluttony and start a programme of physical exercise.
As I couldn't run because of my swollen toe, I took to peddling a stationary exercise bicycle. Here I made a startling discovery -- if I peddled to the point of exhaustion, the gouty pain would disappear. And so would my headache, backache and other pains. Rigorous exercise was providing the same effect as pain-killer pills.
One for the road
To cut a long story short, I have, since the initial gout attack a decade ago, changed my diet, eating only fish, chicken and vegetable. I've also become addicted to physical exercise -- cycling, distance running, weight-lifting and scuba-diving -- which turns out to be an effective painkiller as well as a natural cure for my sniffing nose, migraine and stiff joints, all of which I had been suffering since a teenager.
Running is the best and cheapest way to good health and a trim figure. There's no need to buy complicating, expensive equipment. A pair of canvas shoes, cotton T-shirt and shorts are all you require. Heck, sometime I run topless, especially in the park after dark. You don't even need to join a gym (although it is a good idea). Just check out a safe route around your neighbourhood and start running for your life.
I do my road running usually before midnight when there are few vehicles to poison the air with their exhaust. Usually I try to cover at least 5km in 30 minutes. Before the run, I warm up my legs and knee joints with a slow jog for a half-km. The slow warm-up is crucial as I discovered early on when I suffered painful knees because I was impatient and skipped it during my runs.
After the run, I continue walking for another km to cool down and then do squats to loosen the joints.
Loneliness of a road runner
Runing is never easy, even for the experienced individual. On the road, for instance, you may be chased by dogs, or worse, hit by a car when you're crossing and not paying attention. A treadmill is much safer and more comfortable, but you have to pay gym membership which not everyone can afford. Also, since the revolving platform helps to move your feet, the benefits of, say, a 10km treadmill run, are equivalent to a 2km run on solid ground.
And when your lungs fight for air, your knees start to buckle and your mind gets lonely and bored, all the advice and motivating talk are forgotten There's nothing I can add here then to say if you don't run for your life, you will soon have not much life to run.
-- Francis Chin, April 2002
How far have
you run
To know how far you've run, count the steps of the same foot. If you start with the left foot, count only your left steps. At a moderately fast jog, every 50-52 steps or paces cover 100 metres.
When walking, about 70 paces equal 100m.
To verify your paces, count them when running on a track in a sports stadium or park that has been marked at 100m or 200m intervals.
In Singapore, the running track in Bishan Park (bounded by Ang Mo Kio Ave 1 and Upper Thomson Road) is marked at 100m intervals, for a distance of 3,300m.
