I had spent 8 or 9 days on Koh Tau, Thailand, when I got up one day and said
“Today’s the day I get to Bangkok.”
So I slithered out of bed, packed up in true Camino fashion, and headed out to… well code like I always do. After having done the daily ritual of writing and coding and coffee-drinking, I went to the front desk of the Hostel.
“All the buses to Bangkok are sold out.” she said, with a sad kindness.
“What about the Ferry to the mainland,” I asked.
“Yes that’s still available. 750 Baht.”
The ferry wasn’t anything special. Somehow I made it to the mainland, and decided to hit up a friend I’d met in Phuket. Eventually, I ended up staying in the same hotel he was at; to my pleasant surprise it was clean, quiet, and relatively cheap. When the 3 of us started to look into getting to Bangkok, all the day busses were still sold out the next day. And the only option remaining was a night train. Meaning we had to spend an entire day meandering about without a hotel in Chumphon of all places.
I looked at this as an opportunity to do something we normally wouldn’t. In a city we normally wouldn’t be. There’s zen in that I thought.
So we walked around aimlessly, ate some food, visited a nice little Deer tourist park where we walked on wood around a lake, played Minopoly Deal and read more than our fare share about the King of Thailand and his wisdom.
At night, we were walking around a park as I shared my thoughts on the many bats and rats lurking around every corner. And how under no circumstances would I possibly be sitting on the death traps that are park benches at night. Once you’ve lived in New York City, you know exactly how many rats are waiting to pounce under those things.
We kept walking through the park, which was actually quite beautiful. In South East Asia, I’d lived in Singapore years ago so I knew the deal. The days are so blisteringly hot, that everybody exercises at night. The parks get full as the locals run around, looking fit as hell despite my chagrin at the never ending humidity laced plasma atmosphere.
Seeing the track, the empty night, filled with happy locals running, reminded me of my own runs with friends in Singapore ten years earlier. I was somehow way fitter, and younger. Yet I’d found a way to continue the exchange 10 years on, with new characters.
We got to the track, and there was a few locals huddling around each other. So I went up to them.
“Who wants to race? One lap around the track.”
Everybody started talking. Frantically. It seemed I’d touched a nerve. They all kept pointing at each other. Laughing. Debating. Figuring.
“It’s just one lap. For fun. I just want some competition.” I said.
Finally, after prodding, one of the Thai dudes got up. In my shitty muji Tom-like shoes, I ran with Jules my friend from Phuket and the local. After gunning it the first 200 m, I think they lost the will, and I beat them pretty easily.
After a bit of rest, I looked at our other friend and said we should continue the exercise. Just 2 more laps around the track and we’ll be done. I took off my shoes and started running barefoot. As we ran slowly jogging, I thought I’d run a full 5k. So I kept it up, until the 3rd lap when I heard fast paced breathing, as a man was about to pass. Here’s some fun I thought. How long can I keep up with this guy? Similar to a few weeks ago when I sprinted for 2 km at Run Club in New Port Beach, I had some confidence I could actually keep up a ridiculous pace for a full 4 more kilometers.
So the Thai guy came up, and we ran side by side. We weren’t fully gunning it, but I was extending my pace to keep up, slowing my breathing.
Side by side. Stride by stride, we kept it up, lap after lap. It honestly was effortless. Easy even. My breath was good. My muscles which usually scream in agony from years of coding were doing fine. Tonight was special. I could feel it.
But the entire time, thoughts were clearly running in my mind. Firstly, he was wearing running clothes with nice shoes. Second, he was jacked and clearly fitter than me. Third, he was pacing me.
We kept together the entire time though… Stride by stride, in exact unison. So a thought ran through my mind… who’s pacing who? Who’s pushing who? Confidence started to develop, and I knew I had him. So on the 12th lap, I pushed and dropped him on the track. The final 300m were agony for me, and I was about to puke. This is the feeling I never let myself have in High School I thought. Only a year ago I’d cracked the code on human performance. 11 years too late, but it’s good I discovered it.
Read this if you’re looking for inspiration On Writing and On Running