Dear Diary,
I came back to Singapore on Saturday and I did not get home immediately when I arrived. My family fetched me and they took me to Changi Exhibition Centre. On the way there, we stopped at Bedok Corner to buy take away dinner. I bought my favourite White Carrot Cake and Nasi Ayam Penyet. I have missed the carrot cake so much that I sometime drool about it.
We headed straight to our destination but we had to stop and parked the car at the cargo complex because the only road that leads us there was closed temporarily. It was for the marathon. The reason why we were going there was to support my brother for his participation in Adidas sundown marathon. I was reluctant to go because I was already so tired from the handover of the house. I handed the keys to the new tenants at 11 in the morning and since then I did get to rest properly. I went to Shah Alam after that for lunch with Sexy Charcoal and came back to Subang Jaya to park my car for Rolly Polly to collect it on Sunday.
My bus to Singapore was at 245 in the afternoon and I took a cab to Holiday Villa from my house. Ops, pardon me Diary, it is no longer a thing I can call mine anymore. I had planned to sleep on the bus but I didn’t. I knew I won’t be able to sleep because I am not the kind to sleep on wheels. I just can’t. Even how tired I am, I will still be awake. So there I was on the bus watching movies from my seat, watching the road and reminiscing how I spent my last days in Subang Jaya.
I arrived Singapore at 8 in the evening and when I saw my mum, I felt a thud in my heart. I wanted to tell her how sad I am to leave Subang Jaya but I couldn’t because I knew she is happy to have me back living under the same roof as she does. So there and then, I began my journey of 21 hours without sleep. I had been awake from 8 am in Subang Jaya until 6am in Singapore the next day. My brother’s marathon only started at 12 midnight and I waited for him to finish in between my so very uncomfortable sleep in the car. I slept like how a chicken sleeps. I was tired, sweaty, untidy, angry, sad, uncomfortable and sleepy. I did not watch my brother run at the starting point, instead I waited for my brother at the finishing line and how I thank God that he runs fast.
He finished the marathon 5 hours later and Diary, believe me, he smelled like a rusty iron! I was surrounded by hundreds of marathon runners then and my God, the smell was horrendous! If I were in an incinerator, I would have understand because there are just garbage but this, in a sea of sweating humans who just ran an 84km marathon! You have to be there and you will know the misery I was in. There was the smell of sweat and not to mention body odour that you could smell when the wind blows right into your face. At that moment, how I deemed the importance of a face mask.
Waiting for my brother to finish the race, I saw many runners who came in earlier than he did. Watching them cross the finishing line can be quite an entertainment actually. I saw their running styles and I laughed to myself although how I would love if I could laugh out loud about it. I saw men who ran like women and vice versa, runners who ran with joy upon reaching the finishing line being very oblivious to the surroundings. They jumped, shouted and did funny actions to show thriumph. I was entertained Diary. At least that made me laughed a little and at the height of my laughter, I felt the universe is flung into a kaleidoscope of new possibilities.
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