Sunday, September 30, 2007

Woof Woof

I had a surgery more than 3 months ago. So I was barred from all forms of exercises until my wound is totally healed.

Few days ago, I decided that I need to shed that extra 5 kilos I gained since the operation, so I decided to take a brisk walk around my estate with my wife. My usual 7km run route in the evening became simply a jalan jalan journey from my house to...well... my house (Its a round trip lah, I didnt idle, in case you thought I did).

So I thought, alright you can't run but at least you can walk, you fat ass. It should be a piece of cake.

But I was wrong. I couldn't complete my journey without the bothering pain coming on from my wound which I thought had completely healed. I had to take a really, really slow walk to get home. It didnt help that I had a slipped disc (I discovered it last month), plus my arthritic knee cap has been worse than before. It then suddenly occured to me that my health really suck. I am only 32 years old going on to 33. Just a few months ago, I still had a active and sporty lifestyle, I even picked up golf and I love the sport.

How the hell did all this shit happened. I was beginning to get really worried.

The thing about seeing a doctor is that they start to dig out all the shit problems you have once you start seeing them. I guess I was a happier man before I start donating my monthly salary to those perverted doctors. Now that I found out my list of problems, I became hesitant whenever I decide to do some sport activity. And it doesnt help that your family stops you from your regular exercise now that they are aware of your condition.

But I ought to get on my feet again somehow. This shit cannot continue forever. I decided that I will go swimming. The sport is stressless on your joints, and I've heard water therapy works as well as going for a spa treatment except that it is a lot cheaper. (ya, I know what were you thinking there for a moment, alright I am a cheap fuck)

But I guess turning to swimming isn't going to be much of a problem. There is only one however, in comparism to my list of health related problems that span from Jurong to Johore. And that one single problem is: Ta da!! I can't really swim.

As far as I am concern, theres only one swimming style I ever knew and swear by. No, its not the free style or the breath stroke. Forget it, it can't be the Butterfly Stroke. I am refering to "Dog Paddle Style".

Some kind chap I knew back in secondary school tought me how to 'swim' (I didnt think he was a good teacher, my guess is he loves dogs as pets), I owe it to myself on learning how to float. But thats as far as I get. I had to cheat through a swimming test during my national service days just to avoid going back to my camp for remedial training on weekends. I guess I totally blew it when those bastards insist that I jump into the fucking pool with a bloodly M16 and my uniform on. I need not spell out what happened, I reckon you have never seen a dog geared up in No4 uniform and getting all 'garang' with a rifle on its back waddling some 50m length of pool. Its utterly pathetic, more so I never made it to the 50m point.

I know, its a nightmare. I hate the water to be honest. I almost drowned that time if not for my Section Commander who dragged me out of the water on time.

But like I said, I ought to get out of my shit situation somehow. I ought to head for the waters, its my only option. And if you happened to see a pathetic dog waddling in the water next time you visit the swimming pool, don't bother to call the SPCA, it could be me.

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