Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock...

The date for The Battle up North and Southern War are drawing near. And I'm nowhere near battle condition. Keep postponing training, finding excuses rather than drag my fatty arse to the nearest Torture Machine. Mere mention of that machine gives me goosebumps...

Met The Competitor a couple of nights back. He looks 'leaner'. It could be the fact that he's wearing black, and the slimmer silhoutte that noir gives, belie the actual state. Nonchalantly he remarked,

'Sorry la lambat, baru abis buat 6000 tadi'. Aha! So he's actually been training all this while.
'How long?' I asked him for the time taken to finish that (quite) gruelling workout.
'Masa teruk jugak, finish dalam 24 minutes...' he answers with a smile (seems like a wry one if you ask me)

What the F! That mean an easy 2:00 pace (which I could do for more than 1 hour before). That should indicate he'd be able to clock a low 7:00 race. Damn. He's too far in front.

'By the way, I might not be battling you. I'm going for the VIP race instead', he states matter-of-factly. That doesn't make the news any better. With 3 weeks to go, I need to start training, fast. Have to train. MUST train.

I'll start next week...