Little by little

I have started to run again. Limited to the treadmill, of course. I know the physio said I shouldn't run just yet, since the ankle-clucking sounds still persist. But exercise is not exercise if you don't have that hot warmed-up feeling, especially for me who finds it hard even to break a sweat. Either I have clogged up pores or non-working sweat glands. Still, I pride myself in carrying a sweat towel in the gym, wiping away non-existent sweat drops from my face and neck. I'm grateful I don't stink after a workout. Jealousy rages within as I stare into the congested room while slowing my treadmill speed to a slow walk. I used to enjoy boxing the wind and kicking my imaginary enemies in that taibox class. Now, I can only observe from outside while being comforted by the television screens for entertainment.

I had realised how unhealthy I've been since moving to Australia. At least in hot tropical Malaysia, I still played badminton or smacked a ping pong ball on the table with my siblings. My mum pulled me out of swimming lessons when I was still in primary school, for fear of my nose playing up again and causing my sinus to worsen. Seriously, I don't see a connection between swimming and sinus. Okay, both of them start withh "s" but that's besides the point. I remember the speacialist suggesting to mum to allow me to go under the knife. That was so out of the question at that time. The big move to Australia probably saved me a lot of energy blowing my nose off my face, because I hardly ever do it anymore in the mornings, save for when I'm back home, of course.

Five years in Melbourne, and I barely remembered a time when I actually did any proper exercise. I don't like jogging. Period. But I don't mind running in the vicinity of the gym walls. I'm weird, I know. And I've only stepped foot on a treadmill when I moved to new south wales (note the insistence of stating the state instead of the actual suburb I'm living in now). Anyway, reflecting back this year since I embarked on a totally new journey and job, I can proudly say I have exercised by whacking tennis balls, kicking and boxing air religiously for two to three hours a week, and playing competitive netball once a week. Of course, these were all active before my disappointing ankle injury. I guess bowling doesn't count, huh?