Partnerships

They say partnerships at work is very much like a marriage. You have to be careful who you bed. It could be a business partnership, client-vendor partnership, associates partnership, whatever it may be, it spells one thing - E-F-F-O-R-T. Just like a normal friendship / relationship, it takes effort. Sometimes, more and sometimes less.

Over the many, many years of working together with a myriad of people, I've climbed the learning curve. It's pretty damn steep, I must say! I started off being a very difficult person to work with and more often than not, I prefer to work alone - a "me, myself and I" concept. Going back to college or uni assignments that required teamwork, I would sometimes finish up the team's assignment and only delegated some minor bits and pieces to my team mates. No, no, don't get me wrong. I don't do that because I lacked faith in my team mates or I do not respect their opinions. I do that simply because I want to work at my pace, and I want it done my way, and I want the entire assignment to flow my style. I have no issues about sharing the credit, of course! We were always in the "A" zone :)

Of course, given the industry I chose to launch my career in, this didn't quite pan out as expected :P (I should've gone on the science skills and become an M.E. instead :P) Because I realized the fact that I generally lacked skills in other areas. Fine example is my disability to draw. I cannot draw to save my life! As such, in an ad agency environment, when a client's brief comes in, I have to partner-up with the creative team and try to get them to follow the brief. Needless to say, I learnt the skills to work with someone else because you relied on that person.

Many years after my starting fumbles, I have acquired some skills. Namely tolerance, patience - BOTH of which I am STILL learning to master, the art of dodging bullets - whether they be intended for you or not, the art of walking a tight rope, the art of keeping faith and having trusts, the art of coping with being sandwiched, the art of choosing your battles - the list goes on. My dearest Ah Por imparted this wisdom to me : "Sometimes, in life, it is necessary to drink both sides of the tea." Simply said, it is the art of not taking sides. Which ultimately leads to learning the skills of getting comfy in a sandwiched position :P It is a never-ending learning curve to climb. And it is pretty damn tiring!

A lot of work indeed, eh? Whilst different partnerships have different dynamics and require different "skills" in making it work, I do believe that partnership is indeed team work. There is no point in calculating who did more, when and what and there is no point in calculating who is "willing" and who isn't either. It is knowing that you can have your squabbles and cat-fights and disgreements and apple-polishing (you know how you sometimes need to pujuk, pujuk, beg and beg someone to do the job for you within deadline? :P) and what-nots, but you never lose sight of the goal post ahead of you at all times.

To me, a partnership is deemed dysfunctional when either one or two parties start pointing fingers or start passing twit remarks or threatening remarks or remarks that are tainted with malicious intent and most importantly, loses sight of the goal post. Don't even talk about screwing a partner over - that's just a straight-into-coffin option for the partnership.

For me, keeping the big picture in mind, I choose to to achieve higher tolerance levels (ok - I just laughed at this statement :P) or rather, I HOPE to achieve higher tolerance levels to make things work. At this stage of my life, I have the option of choosing my battles. If it ain't my battle, then it just ain't my battle to win. You can call me a dumb-ass for all I care! Focus-On-Goal-Post.

Now, hand me that cup of tea, please!

My First Tri in 3 Years - Vietnam Triathlon 2010

The sun was blazingly blistering over Cua Dai Beach in Hoi An, Vietnam - venue of the 4th Vietnam Triathlon organized by Tribob. I looked at the choppy waters of the sea and I felt ill with worry. The race director had already warned us about the sea condition in the race briefing earlier and it only made my nervousness grew.

As I nibbled on my energy bar, the athletes from all over the world trickled into the transition area. They looked seriously intimidating with their ripped muscles, professional tri-suits and expensive-looking bikes. The butterflies in my stomach grew in quantity! I tried to recall all of the experiences I had from previous races - but alas! Zilch. My last race was in 2007 at the Miri International Triathlon. I guess it helped that I had a bunch of race 'kakis' with me then. But here in Vietnam, I was alone. My only fan - MOH. But as with all ardent fans of endurance races, it was easy to make friends. We may come from different backgrounds, countries, etc... but cheesy as it sounds - we were united through our love for putting our minds and bodies through torture :)

The race was really well-organized and I was impressed with the fact that everything was on-the-dot as per scheduled. At exactly 2pm, all athletes were requested to gather at the beach start line and the countdown began. I wished they didn't. The counting down from 10mins right till the last 30 seconds was particularly nerve-wrecking for me! But finally, the horn blew and we ran into the water.

I wasn't even 5 minutes out when I swallowed a big gulp of water, thanks to the rolling waves. Every stroke that I made, the current pulled me back. But slowly, I found my rhythm and pace. It was still very tough though, especially when I made it too wide and ended up swimming an additional 200m at the U-turn! After the first lap, we had to get out of the water, run around the start line and get back into the water again. Aargh! Believe me, after getting out of the water, the last thing I wanted to do was to get back in. Here is where your mental strength really needed to be strong. I've trained hard enough and traveled far enough, not to mention, paid a lot (or rather, MOH "invested") for this, I sure as hell ain't giving up. What would all my friends say? :P After all the motivation they had given me to train and get back into race-fit shape, I give up? No, no. Cannot. (If I did, Kris will surely "slap" me!) As such, I kept going. Stroke by stroke, telling myself that I will find a way to train in the ocean next time and not just the pool :P Of course, the frequent thought that came to my mind was "WHY OH WHY did I put myself through this?!"

Finally, after what felt like hours and a gallon of sea water in me, I finished the swimming leg. It was off to gear up for my bike leg next - biking, being my weakest amongst all the three. I hadn't serviced my bike for the last 3 years and only managed to squeeze in a quick service with the bike mechanic that was provided by the organizers. Actually, I am thankful that they do provide this service. Another kudos to the organizers. My bike is actually a second-hand, fancy-free bike, but one that has served me well in all of my races. I was counting on that again this time around.

For those who know me, would know my abysmal sense of direction and as such, I was afraid of missing the turning points or directional signages! The route was flat and disappointingly boring (apparently, they changed the route from last year to make it safer for athletes) with no scenic views or anything like that to see. So nothing to take your mind off the pain and the heat. Just you and the long road ahead. After over-taking a few fellow racers (particularly the men :P), I felt my confidence being boosted and I pushed ahead faster and faster. Along the way, I saw many athletes having problems with their bikes and I uttered silent prayers - that my beloved, beloved bike will keep it all together. "Please don't die on me Bikey! I love you! I love you!"

My bike once again, did not fail me. I finished my bike leg in one of the fastest bike times in any of my races! I zipped into the transition area and zipped out again for my last leg - the run - in which I was pretty confident I was going to ace because of all the three legs - my strongest was my running.

How was I to know that of all times, my body decides to throw a tantrum 10 minutes into my run? My quadriceps just spasmed and then... it locked!! I had not anticipated this at all. I couldn't move! I seriously wanted to cry because I've come this far. I bent over, trying to stretch my legs out and I was in so much pain. Where was the bloody medic service now? Many runners just ran past me. Until one stopped and asked me if I was okay. When I told him I couldn't move from a cramp at my quads, he immediately told me to lie down and he stretched me out and massaged my muscles and then he urged me on to walk. "Keep walking, I will walk with you!" he said. And so, I limped on. "Next lamp post, c'mon. Keep walking," he kept urging me on until we reached the first drink station. "Drink isotonic and get the wet sponge. You'll feel better," he told me. In the heat and fatigue, I only mechanically followed his instructions. "Now jog, c'mon, jog with me. C'mon." And I jogged and the only thing I remembered about this guy who so kindly helped me out and urged me on was his first name - Stephen. I honestly do not even remember his face! After a few minutes of jogging, I felt better and I surged forward - not before saying "Thank You" to Stephen, of course. I realized that in the chase for pride and glory, some people may leave you dying by the side of the road. But there are still kind-hearted souls who will offer their help sincerely. God bless them.

By the time I went through my last lap for the run, my pace picked up a lot and I refused to stop even as my legs were protesting in pain. I was trying to make back the lost time. And through the entire final 3.3km, I was shouting profanities at the devil in my head who was trying to provoke me to give up. Damn if I will! I sprinted on, ignoring the pain in my legs and crossed the finish-line in 3:20.

It surely wasn't my personal best. But at least, I gave it all I had given the conditions of the sea, the weather and my idiotic legs. For my effort, I finished 6th Place in my category, 18th Place for women's overall and 97th Place for total overall. So amidst some pretty intimidating-looking professional athletes, I wasn't all that bad after all. But you know what? As the race director said "Anyone who finishes the race today in this weather and condition is a winner already."

As always, we forget the pain after the race is completed. Only the immense thrill of finishing and overcoming the physical challenges and absolutely feeling great that you did it - for me, again. Like a typical masochist, I ask "When's the next race, people?" with utmost gung-ho-ness :)

I would like to spare a few moments to say Thank You to my beloved MOH. Besides "investing" in my race (sorry the ROI wasn't as expected :P), he was my one-man-entourage. Not only was he my Bike Mechanic - dismantling and assembling my bike, he was also the Bike Caddie throughout the journey from Phnom Penh to Saigon to Hoi An and back; my Manager - getting my race kit laid out and ready for me, checking that I had all my race gear before setting off; my On-Site Coach/Nutritionist - making sure I was doing my carbo-loading, reminding me to drink lots of water before, during and after the race, ensuring I had taken my energy bar pre-race; and of course, my Number One Fan - who promised not to laugh at me if I finished last. What would I do without him?

Official Timing for my race can be found here and here :)

Sentimental Fool

Over the weekend, Sunday, to be precise, I had the uncanny experience of being stripped off all my memories, so to speak. Firstly, my FB account got hacked and thus deleted - for no apparent reason. And that "no appeal shall be entertained". With that, I lost all my friends' contacts, all my photo albums, etc. But this was still bearable.

And then, as if Someone up there hadn't had enough fun with me yet, on the same day, I got robbed by two sonofbitches on a motorbike here in Phnom Penh. Right under broad daylight in the middle of the main road. The two SOBs managed to take off with my cash, camera, bank card and my phones.

It's been 2 days and I'm still feeling really bummed about it. I know, a lot of people have offered their words of encouragement / moral support and we all hear the usual - lucky we're physically unharmed, old things must go for new things to come, it happened to "buang suei" so that better things will come my way, etc... etc.... and I know all that. It would be the same words I would be feeding them should it happen to them.

Don't even get me started on the inconveniences it has caused me. But I think for me - more miserably would be - the loss of my "memories". My camera still had some photos that hadn't been downloaded - of our anniversary celebration. Also the phones - one of the phones that was stolen was a fit-for-the-museum Nokia. I don't even remember which model it was - but they no longer even sell it at the shops. It has been with me for donkey years - and even though it had died on me once, I spent the money fixing it rather than to change or upgrade it to a newer model.

That's the sentimental fool that I am. If today, someone were to give me an option between the iPhone4 or my old crappy Nokia - I would choose my old crappy Nokia - without a sliver of hesitation. So, I guess the word "fool" attached to "sentimental" is quite apt. I am one who cling on to my memories and I get attached, not just to people, but to objects too.

Yes - to that extend, I am a hoarder. My room - much to my parents' chagrin is filled with junk - right up to rulers that are no longer straight from my kindy days to musical mugs from some ex-boyfriends right through to old casettes that are already fungus-infested.

MOH had been nothing but superbly sweet. He's gone to buy me a new phone (although, as I said, truth be told, I would much rather have my old one back - unfortunately, they no longer sell this model) and here's what he said "It is all a sign - that you need to change everything that were not bought by me, to things that are only bought for you, by me." A month ago, I lost my silver bracelet that has been with me for 18 years and I was crying over it for a week - MOH got me a look-alike replacement too.

Perhaps, it is time to learn to let go. Don't you think?

Every Excuse To Celebrate

August, as always is the favourite month of the year for me. Since I was a kid, I knew the month of August to be my birthday - and the signal for the start of all celebrations begins when every building, car or private home in Malaysia flew the national flag. I went around being delusional that this flying of flag was in honour of MY birthday :P Of course, one day, I grew up and not being a very patriotic person, reality descended on me :P

Starting from 2009, I had a whole lot more reason to wish for August to come as quickly as possible. Together with MOH, we celebrate our Wedding Anniversary on the 25th August. And then a week later, we celebrate my birthday. In between that - on the 27th August, we celebrate something a little more intimate too ;)

Add another week after my birthday - stretching into September - we celebrate our Wedding Registration Anniversary on the 3rd September. And then 2 days later on the 5th of September we celebrate our Kampung Wedding Anniversary and finally, a week from there, on the 12th September, we celebrate our KL Wedding Anniversary.

Not to mention, on the 21st of every month, we celebrate our "Monthly Anniversary" - counting the months from the time we first made the "matured and adult" decision to ... embark on a relationship. The big one for this is in October :)

The other night, after a small chocolate cake from MOH with sparklers and all (did I tell you that I MUST have a cake with candles for my birthday - EVERY YEAR? Without fail :P), MOH and I talked about all these dates. We laughed at the fact that there were just so many dates to "celebrate". It's true - looking at all the dates, we might as well just have tattooed them onto ourselves. Hmm... maybe it isn't such a bad idea!

But - really, it is just another excuse for us to make yet another normal day "special" for the both of us. Even though the reason behind the dates holds meaning to the both of us, there isn't really so much of a fancy celebration required - well, not for every single date! All it takes is just to wake up in the morning and say "Happy-First-Time-We-Hooked Up-Anniversary!" or "Happy-2-Years-We've-Been-Legal Anniversary".

It is just a constant reminder to the both of us - of the journey we took to be together, of all the fun (and wild) stuff that we share and of course - to be happy - with each other. When you're counting 1 year, 2 years.. and it seems like time flies, but it really makes you realize that "Holy Crap! We still have a long way to go!!"

So here's to MOH - Happy Anniversary to all the August-September-October dates we are celebrating about and let's carry on with our journey, hand-in-hand :)