Running For Life Project 2007
Yes, dear reader, you read right. I’m resurrecting my restless running soul after the legendary (spectacularly so) thwarted attempts to complete a marathon in 2006 (registration closed early due to overwhelming response) and 2005. Hilarious accounts of willing-the-self-to-run here, here, & there, there, just not everywhere.
So as you can see, I hardly cover any grounds in literal speak.
But 2007, oh yeah, this is the year that will be different. I shall run!!!!!!
Have already signed up for the Shape run (5km), and the Terry Fox run (4km) with my girlfriends and gunning for the Great Eastern Women 10km as the real deal. I’m so proud of myself and my girlfriends!!
Yes and no, I am running, both towards and away, but from where and who, to where, to who, escapes me for now, which is why I'm running, and bracing myself for a long, good run. Who knows what will happen along the way.
NB: The Running For Life Project first took off in 2005 one tragic Saturday when April and I were lamenting about so few things in life being within our jurisdiction of influence and control (with particular reference to a fledging, crawling career). If satisfaction cannot be derived from work and it cannot stretch you either, what other channels could you rely on that you could ironically exert full hold and power over? Well, the body belonging to you of course. With that, pushing the physique to its peak performance level appears to be the easiest answer in theory and an obvious one. In reality, it was difficult to adhere to a training regime because having a social life also tops my list of priorities. It cannot be that I reject invitations to shows and luncheons just to run. It wasn’t cool and so it wasn’t done. But I’m so over with being cool.
*
In the end, PJ and I scrapped movie, opting for a yummylicious quiet dinner at Kura no Naka Japanese Restaurant in Clark Quay that we have not tried before. My fine-dining companion is back!! While it’s all too easy to live without someone, it’s just as scary how easily you can pick up from where it’s all been left behind. Now I have to look for the money.
*
Artsfest Choice Picks:
Mabou Mines' DollHouse – groundbreaking interpretation of a classic text. It was pure genius to create a visually arresting picture through pairing the professional midget actors (the male lead has defined abs and pecs and is damn muscular can!!) with the six feet tall women to bring out the oppression of women: how they had to contort themselves to fit into the pretty dollhouse set and to go about everyday business on their knees most of the time to match (up to) the midget men on an acceptable social level. It’s a pity I’m tired on a working Friday night so I could only enjoy (or rather, appreciate) 80% of the play. But I felt it really made a strong statement and I was glad it lived up to all my expectations. Oh, the climactic, OTT operatic ending just brought everything to a soaring note and Nora’s sudden booming, solid voice, as opposed to her excellent wispy, breathy impersonation of a Marilyn Monroe was the cherry on the cake that is the perennial bourgeois tragedy (which I hope never to live out personally). The flip side of the kitchen is that the play is nutritious broth made by an ambitious master chef. Deft he may be, but he might have thrown a tad too many ingredients into the pot, choking the original intent out: now there’s nothing much to drink as the water either evaporated (double boiled too long) or been has drained by the very accompaniments that were supposed to make it richer. There are honestly too many unexpected twists and turns and subversions and experimentalism going on. I applaud the individual creative component but the sum of its parts made me wonder why there’s no soup (and thus nothing for the soul) in the play. In its overzealous attempt to play out small minded conventions and draw out the stunted possibilities, the play tipped over the edge and the joke is on itself. Look here for a similar review.
北京人 – this play is as true to its classic roots as Dollhouse is avant garde. Clocking 3 hours, it lost me quite a number of times due to the eyes-wide-shut syndrome as it was sheer tedium to focus. Not that the play wasn’t good, it was very sincere with exemplary acting contributed by the cast, but I was still exhausted and so 内敛ness and subtleties in text did not sit well and just slump over, all too happy to collapse in fatigue. The important men in white were there, including SM and wife and they had an exclusive reception during the intermission (which came after 2 hours and disappointed gasps were emitted from the audience, who had thought it would end then and there) when plebeians like yours truly stand by the edge to people-watch. But back to the play, I love the inclining set, that inclined more and more as the play goes on and on, illustrating the downfall of a once eminent and proud family. Yes, the body politic theme is at work here too.
So as you can see, I hardly cover any grounds in literal speak.
But 2007, oh yeah, this is the year that will be different. I shall run!!!!!!
Have already signed up for the Shape run (5km), and the Terry Fox run (4km) with my girlfriends and gunning for the Great Eastern Women 10km as the real deal. I’m so proud of myself and my girlfriends!!
Yes and no, I am running, both towards and away, but from where and who, to where, to who, escapes me for now, which is why I'm running, and bracing myself for a long, good run. Who knows what will happen along the way.
NB: The Running For Life Project first took off in 2005 one tragic Saturday when April and I were lamenting about so few things in life being within our jurisdiction of influence and control (with particular reference to a fledging, crawling career). If satisfaction cannot be derived from work and it cannot stretch you either, what other channels could you rely on that you could ironically exert full hold and power over? Well, the body belonging to you of course. With that, pushing the physique to its peak performance level appears to be the easiest answer in theory and an obvious one. In reality, it was difficult to adhere to a training regime because having a social life also tops my list of priorities. It cannot be that I reject invitations to shows and luncheons just to run. It wasn’t cool and so it wasn’t done. But I’m so over with being cool.
*
In the end, PJ and I scrapped movie, opting for a yummylicious quiet dinner at Kura no Naka Japanese Restaurant in Clark Quay that we have not tried before. My fine-dining companion is back!! While it’s all too easy to live without someone, it’s just as scary how easily you can pick up from where it’s all been left behind. Now I have to look for the money.
*
Artsfest Choice Picks:
Mabou Mines' DollHouse – groundbreaking interpretation of a classic text. It was pure genius to create a visually arresting picture through pairing the professional midget actors (the male lead has defined abs and pecs and is damn muscular can!!) with the six feet tall women to bring out the oppression of women: how they had to contort themselves to fit into the pretty dollhouse set and to go about everyday business on their knees most of the time to match (up to) the midget men on an acceptable social level. It’s a pity I’m tired on a working Friday night so I could only enjoy (or rather, appreciate) 80% of the play. But I felt it really made a strong statement and I was glad it lived up to all my expectations. Oh, the climactic, OTT operatic ending just brought everything to a soaring note and Nora’s sudden booming, solid voice, as opposed to her excellent wispy, breathy impersonation of a Marilyn Monroe was the cherry on the cake that is the perennial bourgeois tragedy (which I hope never to live out personally). The flip side of the kitchen is that the play is nutritious broth made by an ambitious master chef. Deft he may be, but he might have thrown a tad too many ingredients into the pot, choking the original intent out: now there’s nothing much to drink as the water either evaporated (double boiled too long) or been has drained by the very accompaniments that were supposed to make it richer. There are honestly too many unexpected twists and turns and subversions and experimentalism going on. I applaud the individual creative component but the sum of its parts made me wonder why there’s no soup (and thus nothing for the soul) in the play. In its overzealous attempt to play out small minded conventions and draw out the stunted possibilities, the play tipped over the edge and the joke is on itself. Look here for a similar review.
北京人 – this play is as true to its classic roots as Dollhouse is avant garde. Clocking 3 hours, it lost me quite a number of times due to the eyes-wide-shut syndrome as it was sheer tedium to focus. Not that the play wasn’t good, it was very sincere with exemplary acting contributed by the cast, but I was still exhausted and so 内敛ness and subtleties in text did not sit well and just slump over, all too happy to collapse in fatigue. The important men in white were there, including SM and wife and they had an exclusive reception during the intermission (which came after 2 hours and disappointed gasps were emitted from the audience, who had thought it would end then and there) when plebeians like yours truly stand by the edge to people-watch. But back to the play, I love the inclining set, that inclined more and more as the play goes on and on, illustrating the downfall of a once eminent and proud family. Yes, the body politic theme is at work here too.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home