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PARTING SHOT
284
June15
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Simply email your stories in a
Word document to contribute@
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B
am! Bam! Bam!
All hell is breaking loose
above my head. Darn it, it’s
him again! Must be 7.30am
… Open one bleary eye;
yes, the alarm clock says “07:30”. You
could set your watch by him.
My lovely but fitness-mad neighbour
is exercising – like every morning,
punctually and inexorably. Thank
goodness he does it at 8.30am on
weekends. I am grateful for small
mercies.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!
One last set, then silence. Finally.
Fitness-mad neighbour (for ease of
reference, from now on: FMN) is not
a rare example in this fast-running city
state. The famous
kiasu
(fear of losing)
runs deep, if you’ll excuse the pun; there
are many who feel the need to be one
step in front of the next person, whether
it’s getting on a bus or in a train, or at
the brunch buffet queue.
But I digress. Running for fitness has
become positively endemic. In the last
12 months at least 90 races have taken
place! I kid you not.
Then there are the bare-chested
runners, freely sharing their sweat when
brushing past you (gentlemen, a word:
this is
not
Copacabana Beach, OK?
Cover up please!), the bare-footed ones
(on scorching pavements? Ouch!), the
runners with a dog on a lead, with pram,
or with both at the same time. Makes me
tired only to think of it.
And it’s not just running. For such
a small island we have an inordinate
number of fitness studios; there’s
fencing, kickboxing, martial arts from
China, Japan andMalaysia, and dancing
from all the continents. And yoga: hot,
cold, hatha, kundalini, prana, acrobatic
and with Pilates. And tai chi and qigong
classes in every park, void-deck and
rooftop, mostly at ungodly hours!
And yet, a local Minister was
complaining recently that Singaporeans
“are not exercising enough”. I don’t get
it. I must introduce him to FMN.
Speaking of whom, he’s unstoppable.
There I am, at the bus stop, and FMN
passes me at a trot, briefly slowing
down to wave and flash me a maniacal
grin. He is wearing one of two sets of
white T-shirt and (daringly short!) flappy
shorts, that he dons every day without
fail. It is 12 noon and
hot!
But no matter:
Mr No-pain-no-gain runs around the
block ten times before lunch. And ten
before dinner!
So, tonight I’m on the balcony,
admiring the glittering landscape of this
Fighting Fit
By Daniela Morena
beautiful city I call home and pondering:
I
am
getting a wee rotund around the
waist; perhaps I should look into this
fitness thing, try to walk a little faster to
the bus stop?
Drip. Splat! A drop lands on my head
and another on my nose. Rain? No. I
look up, and precariously hung on the
railings above are a white T-shirt and
a pair of flappy shorts. Dripping wet.
So, one mystery is solved: that’s how
he manages to get by with only two
sets per day. This, dear Minister, is
true
dedication to fitness!
Warrengoldswain | Dreamstime.com