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First (but not so) Big Break

When I first picked up my running shoes four years ago, the thought of crossing the finish line in a marathon never crossed my mind. Heck, maybe I couldn’t even tell the difference between a marathon and a 10k back then. After I ran Bromo Half Marathon in 2014, I made a promise to myself that I should (at least) run the 26.2 once in my lifetime. And so I signed up for Chicago Marathon in 2015. It is one of world major marathons along with Boston, New York, Berlin, London and Tokyo. Being that, the entry uses a ballot system and the registration only required for my name, so I thought ‘well, got nothing to lose if I didn’t get in.’ I did, but chose to defer it until this year.

Fast forward a year later, my training for the debut commenced. I trained with my friend as he began training for another fall race: Berlin. He’s clocked many marathon hours, therefore the idea of training with him seemed fit in my head. Along the way, many of our friends joined us for morning runs regardless of everyone’s personal purposes.

Few days leading up to the big day, a lot of people told me that anything could happen on race day and whatever that is, I should try and have fun. I kept reciting them (among others) in my head to keep my mind occupied from the fact that I was completely underdressed for the cold weather, and most importantly: the wind. Well, in my defense, racing in shorts and tanks was worn and tested.

‘Don’t go out too fast. Don’t go out too fast” was the thing that I kept telling myself upon toeing the starting line. It all went well, took two quick bathroom breaks, until I got past mile 13.1 when both of my feet started to acting up. Slowing down was the only solution that I could think of but the pain crept upon my ankles and to make it worse: I’ve never had that kind of pain before. Thinking that I still had more days to roam in the States and quickly calculating the severeness of the outcome had I forced myself to the finish line, I decided to visit the aid station at Mile 15. After the visit, it was all mental breakdown. The course was relatively quiet (in terms of runners) and there I had it: would I be able to finish this?

I cursed myself on making the decision to stop and losing all those minutes. But then I thought of all those 6AM runs, all the people that supported me, and the fact that it took me 20-hour flight to get there. So my feet began picking up with slower pace but whatever. I still consumed the energy gel according to my calculations but it didn’t work at all. My goal to run under 5:15 just crushed before my eyes so I might as well had some fun for the rest of the race. I had to give it up to the locals who relentlessly cheered on the runners and Chicago’s picturesque scenery in the fall.

Crossing the finish line after consuming the entire marathon course was such an overwhelming experience. When one of the volunteers handed me the medal, pat my shoulder and said “You did great! Congratulations!” I almost lost it. Not to mention the outpouring messages I received and the icing of the cake was when my friends - who had been waiting outside the Grant Park - said that they wanted to run a 26.2 because they just saw me did one. All this time I’ve been doubting and being so hard on myself, and you guys managed to prove that wrong. So if any of you are reading this, I sincerely thank you cause without whom I wouldn’t be smiling with that medal.

PS: This won’t be the last.

[jengahjeng]

VOR’s Cross Country Chapters II

Last weekend, I ventured out on a different kind of running event: a trail running camp. If you know me, I have a love-hate relationship with that specific type of sport. Well maybe love-hate is a kind of strong word. I’m more like “it-looks-fun-difficult-and-more tiring-yet-I’m-curious” kinda type. Mind you, I’ve run trails in the past but I still haven’t found the ‘calling’ as my trail-loving friends said. Let alone I’m totally inexperienced in the whole camping situation. Sorry, getting carried away here.

The good folks at @valueofrunning organized the whole thing, which included an overnight camp at Rahong, Pangalengan (spectacular choice of place, I must say), a 3-mile run, shitload of delicious food and killer music, as well as a sharing session with Bandung Explorer (Bandrex) trail running aficionados Kang Alan and Kang Arif. Around 40 runners participated in this second edition of CCC (an abbreviation of Cross Country Chapters), with the first one held at University of Indonesia.

To sum up, it was one of the most memorable experiences in my running journey. Yes, it was tiring (note my previous inexperienced-ness) but who would let that feeling sink in when you had that kind of view and best companions along? Moreover, I’ve learned that it is not always the destination that keeps pushing you, but the whole process and the people that you get to enjoy it with.

Why am I being sentimental all of a sudden?

Cover photo by Runhood. The rest of the photos and words by yours truly.

[jengahjeng]

Barasuara Taifun Tour 2016: Jakarta

I can’t recall when was the last time I went to a local gig. Probably months or even years ago. So when my friend asked me to accompany him to watch Barasuara at their last leg of Taifun Tour 2016 in Jakarta last week, my immediate response was yes. My knowledge of the band was kind of limited. I did interview them via email two years ago when I was working at a small music news website, coupled with a video that my friends recorded, and their debut album. That was it. I never came to their show until that night. I literally came to the show expecting nothing, though I’ve heard substantial amount of feedback regarding their terrific live performances.

When the lights were dimmed and people started to chant the band members’ name - Iga, TJ, Ichyl, Puti, Gerald and Marco, that was my cue to step back and watch from afar because I’m claustrophobic as fuck. Somewhere near the front of the house has always been my choice and so there I stood for one hour and a half. They opened the show with ‘Hagia’ and the crowd went ballistic - in a good way. From that moment, there seemed to be an endless sing-a-longs and dance among the audience towards the end of the show. They even debuted an uplifting-meets-hopeful new song titled ‘Samara.’ While doing so, they were joined with a group of brass section. Of course, the infamous ‘Bahas Bahasa’ served as a proper way to end the concert and the tour as well. Positive energy filled the room and I could totally get it why they already acquired a legion of devoted fans. In between my constant amazement of their well-rehearsed performance - particulary Marco the drummer geez that guy was definitely the man of the hour; eloquent songwriting; and concert production, I couldn’t help but thinking “how the fuck did I miss them all these years?”

I came to the show expecting nothing, but Barasuara granted me one of the best live performances I’ve ever seen.

Photos and words by yours truly.

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Recent work for Pattern Journal, a Jakarta-based female apparel brand.

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Bromo Mountain, East Java.

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Andy Warhol: Social Circus Exhibition at Gillman Barracks, Singapore.

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Recent work for Portibi Farms, Cicurug, Sukabumi.

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Running (and Cheering) Rage at Jakarta Marathon 2015.

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Recent submission for the upcoming Jakarta-based magazine called Start Up.

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Sigur Ros at Fort Canning Park, Singapore

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Bencoolen, Singapore

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Chinatown, Singapore

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Andra Matin: Sebuah Sekuel

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Fantasy and Absurd Reality of Japanese Contemporary Art

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Vampire Weekend at Bengkel Night Park, Jakarta

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Marina Bay Sands, Singapore

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Penangkapan Pangeran Diponegoro (The Capturing of Prince Diponegoro), painting by Raden Saleh