I usually get excited about a race D-7. I would start loosing sleep. I would get butterflies in my stomach even when I don't think about the race. I would get anxiety attack for worrying about everything under the sun. For the first time I feel nothing. No anxiety, no butterflies, no sleepless night. NOTHING. Is this a good thing or not a good thing?
One lazy afternoon in Kuta, Bali. Learning the art of letting the sun kissing your skin. The sun and I only made up for five minutes before I ran to the comfort of shades. Wondering how on earth people can stand the heat. They must have thicker skin or something.
They say good things come those who wait. I didn't see any good things happened to a lady who were waiting for someone in a small cafe one melancholic Monday. She had a this-is-suck look. And when the person she was waiting for finally appeared she gave them hell. Rephrase. Bad things come to those who make other people wait.
One cloudy early Sunday morning. I was just started my long run when this guy out of nowhere started running next to me and struck up a conversation. "Hey, are you a marathoner?" To which I said, "Yup!" I was hoping that would be the end of our conversation since I'm not much of a talking runner. But he continued, "Are you in college or school?" To which I said, "No, I'm in the army." The guy had a semantic reaction to the word army. He stopped running and left me alone.
Some people read when they can't sleep. Or listen to music. Or drink warm milk. Or watch TV. Or counting sheep. Why sheep? Because it rhymes with sleep. Keep. Deep. Leap. Creep. Jeep. Peep. Heap. Steep. Cheap. Beep. Seep. Making a list of words that rhyme with sleep is definitely not going to put you back to sleep. Weep!
One humid late afternoon. Stucked in a mean traffic. Feeling rather thirsty and hot. Moving oh so slowly. Then for a good ten minutes it just stopped. Completely. Not moving even an inch. Lucky me I have my sketchbook and pen so I can concentrate on lines instead of the stupid traffic. Breath in. Breath out. Draw. Draw.
A nude color intricate lace skirt. A three tier organdi peplum. I still couldn't figure out whether it's part of her top or her skirt. A silky beige tank top. A lavish bag in tangerine. A killer stiletto that matches the color of her bag. A long, flowy, shiny big black hair. And a flawless makeup. Guess where I saw this fine lady?
Saw so many of Dena's friends in Brian's farewell party at the Tobing's last nite. A lot taller. Listened to them jamming Maroon Five's Sunday Morning. Izaat asked me about my tattoos. Wish you were here, Dena. Everyone seemed to think that you are coming home this September. Everything there reminds me of you.
Lari hari Minggu. Persediaan air hampir habis tapi waktu lari masih panjang. Terpaksa berhenti lagi di warung buat beli air mineral botol. Botol yang kosong saya berikan pada bapak penjaga warung. "Eh, jangan dibuang di jalan dong pak!" protes saya ketika melihat bapak itu mau membuang botol di jalan. "Tapi kan neng, dengan membuang sampah di jalan saya beramal untuk pemulung!" Dari pada tambah banyak kehilangan waktu lari untuk berdiskusi soal alasan amal yang menurut saya tidak masuk akal saya bilang, "Biar saya bawa lagi botolnya deh pak. Nanti saya carikan tempat sampah." Mungkin karena kasihan membayangkan saya lari sambil membawa dua botol ahirnya bapak itu mengalah dan berjanji tidak membuang botol itu di jalan. Tapi harga botol minuman yang biasanya 4000 rupiah buat saya khusus jadi 6000 rupiah. Barangkali untuk biaya protes dan biaya buang sampah. Baiklah!
