I emerged from the City Hall MRT entrance along the North Bridge Road and walked out into the open under the dark sky. It looked like it was going to rain. The wind was strong but silent, without the sound of air movements beside my pinna. I just had the feeling that my bus was coming up, but the actual bus stop was more than a hundred metres away. I walked closer to the main road so that I could check if there were any buses approaching.
As I move closer to the road, a few Japanese tourists in front of me was looking at the flyers in their hands and then looking up at an approaching bus. My eyes followed their gaze and the service numbers on the top of the single-decked bus frame stared back. 32. I dashed in the direction of the bus stop.
It has been a long time since I really ran. After Adidas Sundown in May, I trained for IPPT but immediately after passing, I slackened. Then the familiar shin pain of my stress injury days set in. I didn’t dare to carry on with my routine daily runs for fear that my recovery would once again be compromised. Then my soles started hurting. I was afraid of suffering from a collapsed arch – a ruined feet. Fortunately a simple scan I did recently showed otherwise. My arch was intact but the stress injury had an impact on my leg posture and uneven pressure on my feet strained my left arch. I needed a pair of custom soles to support my feet. An appointment was made for that purpose, but I have not gone for it.
I ran and ran, between the pedestrians trying to get from Funnan Centre to City Hall MRT station, weaving through the crowd as the bus surpassed me. I could see other commuters at the bus stop boarding the bus as I sped ahead. The guy in a long sleeved pullover with a sling bag walking beside me started running too, but he barely caught up with me. I waved my hand at the bus to signal to the driver to wait for me before grabbing the handle on the door and swinging myself on board.
“Thank you!” I smiled at the bus driver and tapped my card on the reader, swallowing my breathlessness into the gut. It burst back to my lungs as I took strides towards the seats in the rear. The bus stayed stationary – the driver was waiting for the guy with a sling bag to board. I found a seat and sat down. As I caught my breath, I felt liberated from my injuries despite the discomfort tingling in my feet. I suddenly remembered why I loved running: it was the victory over personal weaknesses, the pride of breaking through my limits and closing in towards my potential. I want to relive that feeling again and again.
