Yesterday, I was at the Kallang National Stadium for my usual jog.
My G-Shock showed 1945 hrs.
I expected the stadium to be empty since it is only the third day of the Lunar New Year. I was however surprised that it was eerily quiet, save for a handful of joggers minding their own business.
The scene reminded me of those post-apocalyptic movies where huge twilit buildings loom over in the cloudy night, with the moon entering its waxy crescent phase.
I intend to maintain my fitness, precisely my cardio which fluctuates up and down if I never keep up with my jog. I entered the running track, limbering up while gradually warming up my legs to get into momentum.
The competition
Out of the nowhere, a jogger abruptly overtakes me from the left, cuts into my lane and decides to occupy my track.
It was especially strange, considering the other tracks were unoccupied. The jogger seemed to be of the same height as me, except he was wearing an all-black attire.
Looking back, there wasn’t much detail that stood out. In fact, it was peculiar. He looked very two-dimensional; like a long shadow being cast on a canvas.
Anyway, I shot a reproachful glare. Cutting lanes ought to be from the right. After all, it is common courtesy in Singapore, especially so when there are clear demarcations for running lanes.
Part of me wanted to outdo and compete with him while another side of my head simply wanted to complete a comfortable 3 laps around the stadium and call it a night.
I ended up following his pace for the next two rounds, thanks to Tom Bilyeu’s Impact Theory podcast which I tuned in for the rest of the jog.
Up the ante
In this podcast, Brendon Burchard who is the guest speaker elaborates about his theory of Performance Necessity.
He believes that changing the shoulds in your life into musts is one of the ways that we can move to realize our dreams.
His personal recount was the reality of his state back in times of hardships and perseverance. He recalled how his girlfriend (now spouse) stayed on with him, sleeping on piles of unpaid bills while he struggled to make ends meet as a writer. It was a wake-up call for him.
That was his necessity.
He doesn’t want to drag others down with him if he fails.
He realized that passion, which he must obsessively stoke and fan becomes a necessity in order to survive. It must have felt very primal in that sense, fighting between life and death and no longer about fluffy dreams.
Embracing the struggle
“The last lap of another 800 meters before I call it a day,” I thought to myself as I ran past the white marker.
I can feel the soreness on my legs which is the telltale sign of lactic acid starting to build up on my calves. My throat feels dry while my mind is protesting for a break.
I hate feedback. They tell me about reality, and I admit that I dislike confronting the negativities that surround it; the strings of fear, failure and sometimes, rejections.
As if the guy was listening to my thoughts, he picked up his pace. As if he is prodding me to catch up.
I am at least 10 steps away from him. Like a mirage, my vision seems to go fuzzy while I am deep in mental judo with myself.
“That’s right. One step at a time. Come on, you can do this!
Outwork yourself for the last lap. Not for the sake of competition, but for your own benefit. This is going to be worth your time.”
It dawned on me that I have yet to search for my necessity to perform. Looking back, I felt silly for not seeing the obvious. I lacked the need to perform my best, at least when it comes to jogging.
“Perhaps the jogger in front of me knows and can offer an advice or two, but then again personal development isn’t really a one-size-fits-all. After all, it is personal.”
What works out for him might not work for me.
I find it unbelievable that I still have the energy to reflect on this during my jog. A thoughtful distraction, it seems, which can be useful when it comes to struggles like these.
Last push
I reached the last bend and pushed a little further until I went past the last marker.
It felt good knowing that you give that extra effort for the finish. I looked at my stopwatch to get a visual confirmation and sure enough, I clocked 35 seconds faster than expected.
In between breaths with my hands propped against my hips, I looked up and walked a little further.
And then the stillness engulfed me once again.
The jogger was no longer there as if he had evaporated into thin air.
Thank you for reading (music)
