Everyone have their Olympic Moment(s). An etching moment that transcends the near-impossible; A defining moment of inspiration.
One of mine took place in December 2002 while I was still serving my National Service. It was the 2.4km run as part of my annual IPPT test. I needed a timing of 11:40 to net the silver award which comes along with a $100 bonus.
From the outset, 11:40 by itself is not a "sure-thing" as I was consistently clocking around 12:00 with a :15 variance. I was however certain that if I'd put in some effort and pushed myself a little, 11:40 would be within grasp.
The running route is not the typical six rounds of a 400m stadium track but instead a 1.2km round-trip along a road that was densely forested on both sides. A rather picturesque & scenic road that often appears misty from afar in the early dawn hours.
There were nearly 50 of us running that morning. Did some stretching and jumping (I always love jumping and hopping around before running :p ), and soon we were all on the starting line.
"Ready, on your maaaaark, go".
So off we went, with the lead-runners dashing ahead like leopards, the pack-chasers running after like dogs, the slower ones like pigs rushing for their meals, and not to mention the stomping obese elephants.
I did pretty well for the first-leg. I came in around 11th or 12th at the turning point. This is also where a road marshal would shout out your timing for the first 1.2km. Mine was somewhere below 5:20, a safe timing that was certainly well on track for 11:40.
Commonsense would had dictated that I take my feet off the accelerator, as some of those in front of me were no doubt mindful of. They slowed down. Their pace no longer as quick and steps visibly shorter.
I began the run with one motivation - to overtake the person immediately in front of me and then overtake the next and the next and the next. As those ahead slowed down, I pushed myself even faster. I bridged the distances and closed the gaps.
Every instance of me overtaking another runner carried with it a sense of minor achievement and minute victory. So I just kept going.
For the final 200m, I threw in every ounce of my energy, and perhaps even more. I sprinted as fast as I could. My legs and lungs were on the verge of caving in but I kept it up. It could be because everyone around were shouting encouragements and cheering me on. (those whom I knew personally may have an agenda though since they would have free ice-creams and chicken-wings if I got the $100 :p )
I collapsed onto the granite after crossing the end-point, clunching the number 3 finishing card. "10:12" the time-keeper shouted as I lay there on the road.
For finishing 3rd out of a pack of 50 leopards, dogs, pigs & elephants, for someone who had very rarely broken past the 11:00 mark, for a personal best, and for such unwavering mental and physical persistence, it certainly was one of my Olympic Moment.
On a more abstract note, perhaps it also taught me to believe, to believe in the broad possibilities and the small miracles of life. :p
