OF SWEAT AND SLUGS

On Thursday, because the trip to the gym turned out to be a flop, I went for an evening jog with the younger brother instead.

We jogged around the estate. While growing up around 2 BROTHERS subjects one to a lot of ribbing and teasing, the gratifying thing is that they tend to - in one way or other; most of which are, unfortunately, subtle - look out for the only sister. And it's really nice. Throughout the run, the younger brother kept turning around to check whether have I died yet on my progress. Past experience tells me that if I were to take a break and stop running, he would double back and push me from behind, all the while nagging urging, "姐, don't stop, don't stop. Keep running. You're not supposed to break the momentum and walk. Just keep running. Slow also never mind. Just don't stop." - which is precisely what happened the first time we jogged together. After that incident, till this day, I made it a point to - no matter how tired I am - never stop running until we've completed at least one whole round.



So, anyway, ever since I've had my LASIK surgery, this is the first time exercising after a 4months hiatus (hey! It was the doctor's order, mah! He said to refrain from exercising!). We were about to complete the round, and I was - of course - tired like anything by then. The younger brother looked back once again, and I - too tired to speak - gestured to make a right turn into our block. He shook his head, and pointed straight instead; suggesting to take the longer route back. It was a well-intended challenge. I threw him a whiny scowl and put on a tragic expression before murmuring my consent begrudgingly.

After the run, we went up to the apartment. Because I like traveling light, the both of us were stranded outside. We ended up sitting at the lift lobby, waiting for the parents to arrive home.



I thought it was a really nice moment. The both of us - tired to the bones and drenched in our own sweat; it was a yickie but yet - strangely - good feeling (must be the endorphin). I looked at him, and can't help but to feel an odd sense of satisfaction inside. Here is my younger brother - a male, fit and strong, 7 whooping years my junior, and on the school volleyball team. And I just completed a run with him, AND he's sweating and panting as hard as I am!

I looked at him again. It has been quite a good run. Drops of sweat were dripping down his chin; and dripping down my side fringe as well. My whole body felt so wet from the perspiration; I felt like a giant slug.

The both of us were so tired; we didn't talk. Then again, words are NOT always necessary. Sometimes, just doing recreational things together is already very magical by itself.



The parents came home about 10minutes later.



I took a nice, relaxing shower, and bundled up the wet hair into a turban. Laid down on the bed idyllically, angel-spreaded. The cup of iced Milo which I had prepared prior to the run was balancing on my belly. The fan was switched on at low speed, sending caresses of wind which felt so heavenly. The head turban, the angel-spreaded position, and a cup balancing on my belly. Ok, this may not be THE elegant pose of all times, but, hey, it feels so GOOD, and that's what matters. It is a quiet moment of tranquility; bringing along with it a beautiful tinge of peaceful victory. It feels like I just conquered Mount Everest. Ok, maybe, Bukit Timah.



That is, until the younger brother happened to walk past the room, poked his head inside, caught a glimpse of my peculiar position, and asked mockingly,



"OEI! You run until siao liao, is it? Want me to call ambulance?"