In search of something lost

I need to get to a place to find all the things that matter to me in place. I have abandoned my first love and the one thing I felt I had potential to do, because I lacked the courage to see it through.

Writing was a passion that started in my early to late teenage years. I started writing poetry when I was in Grade 6, and I remember how I could usually churn out poems in a few minutes (with form and content). I tried out short stories in high school and eventually became the literary editor of our school newspaper and literary magazine. I wrote yearbook write ups for countless friends and edited everyone else’s write ups before it was published. In college, all that remained of my writing were essays and boring excerpts that produced nothing quite original. A small spurt of my poetic self came out in my Junior year when I took a Poetry class and another writing class.

If I were to categorize myself as a writer right now, I’d call myself a frustrated writer. Whilst none of my writer friends have ever had something noteworthy (like a book or an anthology) published, I still feel that hunger come up to me from time to time.


What would therefore qualify me to be a writer?

Books are my passion. I love to read books written by anyone and which covers topics and storylines about anyone and anything. I love fiction, non-fiction, memoirs and autobiographies, history books and poetry books, classical and modern literature. I used to draw inspiration from these books I read and I secretly credit these books for shaping my vocabulary and grammar.

I love to talk. I can go on and on, narrating stories, formulating opinions, reflections and insights for people who ask and do not ask for it.

I’m a stickler for powerful endings. I believe in how every piece must have a good ending. Nothing ordinary or written in the last breath- as if to say- this is the end! I believe that the endings make or break every story and every piece. This is where my horrible habit of going to the last page of the book originated- from that search for that great ending only obsessive people like me can understand.

On the other hand, I have lived almost ten years without having written any notable piece, almost ten years have gone by since I’ve lost myself in my (written) work.

I miss it terribly. It’s as if I was mourning for something I once had, but lost. Is it possible for one person to gain something that has already been given up? Subconsciously, I think it has always been there, and only manifests itself from time to time through various outlets. But maybe, I should think about “coming out” again. Perhaps it’s a start to my quest of reclaiming myself once again- what I once was, and where I want to be.

Run Baby, Run!

My family and close friends can attest that I, Kath Ong, absolutely has no athletic bone in my body. I am happy enough to watch people do sports, and fleetingly admire the willpower of those who can sustain a sport, but dismiss myself as hopeless.

I surprised myself last May by buying a pair of Mizuno running shoes, which perfectly suited every curve and contour of my foot. Purchasing that shoe was an experience in itself, as I was made to stand on a transparent glass with a reflecting mirror underneath so that I (and the sales person) can see how high or low the arch of my foot was. (No wonder other shoes hurt when I tried to exercise- i bought wrong ones for my feet!) Nonetheless, I whipped out my credit card and made a whopping first investment in running. Again, for weeks, I procrastinated.

Finally, on June 1, at the Clark Hatch gym in CDO, I began my running journey. At first it was about how long I could sustain a jog. I began with 3 minute intervals, for about 15 minutes, after which, I walked the rest away. I would gradually increase my ability to withstand the tiring legs, the pain in my sides and chest, and gradually increased my time and speed again. In months, I was steady and stable on a treadmill. I'm proud to say that I have not run less than twice in any week since I started in June.

I took another leap of faith in mid September when I joined Denzell for a weekly morning run in the UP quadrangle. Running on a concrete asphalt pavement, on a warm sunny day, is not an easy transition from running in a fully airconditioned gym, with a cushiony treadmill equipped with a TV monitor in front of you. One round was 2.2 km, and every week, I struggled to complete a round of pure running, while trying to increase my speed. In five to six weeks, I made it. Faster and better in terms of endurance. My next goal is the 5km run. My ultimate goal would be to run the NYC Marathon.... A girl can dream right?

Aside from the high I get in running, I realize that i now feel so much healthier than before. I feel less sluggish and lethargic during the day, and no longer worry about gaining weight. I can now eat and not worry about the pounds I will gain... I feel fitter than I have before, and for the first time, I actually feel more flexible (from all the stretching) too!

It took awhile for me to write about this latest feat in my life, because I was always afraid that once I did, I would somehow jinx it and it would all disappear. But 5 months of doing this made me realize that I've developed this into some kind of habit, albeit a new way of life. And despite the pain from physical exertion and tired joints I feel every time I try to improve myself, at the end of the day, I am happy that I did this. I owe it to myself to have a better looking, healthy body, inside and out. ;)