Ideas while one runs ...

I do agree, except for me it's not running, but washing hair. Ideas do flow when one is scrubbing one's scalp - maybe the blood flows better to the brain then!
And when one is hanging up the laundry, or scrubbing the toilet, one feels in sync with the universe and the mind is cleared of knots!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The creative runner
(Thanks to TODAY Weekend • May 31, 2008)
HE SHIED away from the limelight some three years ago — about the same time his Creative Technology empire weathered turbulence in the face of a bloody MP3-player battle with United States tech giant Apple and tumbling stocks. Creative chief Sim Wong Hoo now breaks his silence, saying he’s a new man — thanks to his new-found passion for running.
The trim, sporty 53-year-old will take on another challenge on Saturday night, joining some 300 runners — many of them elite athletes — in the inaugural, 84km Adidas Sundown Marathon, which will also see about 6,000 others going half the distance. In his first media interview in three years, he tells Ansley Ng (ansley@mediacorp.com.sg) about his preparations for the race and how to get creative.

You ran your first marathon in December last year, clocking just under seven hours. A month later, you signed up for the 84km ultra marathon. Why?
I knew I wanted to take part in it when I read about the event in the papers. I was in no condition to do the ultra marathon. But I always do things when I am not prepared. That’s the way I have achieved things all my life. You don’t prepare and plan, plan and plan, then decide if you can do the task. I don’t do things that way. You actually set a goal, then you go. Then you set bigger and bigger goals. When I set my mind to do the ultra marathon, it was done. There was never a single doubt in my mind that I couldn’t do it. I signed up, and worked towards it.

Have you always been running?
I was never a runner, never an athlete. I had an embarrassing experience when I was young, when I attempted a half-marathon (21km) with some friends during my National Service. This was 30 years ago. It was one of the first few times Singapore had organised such a race, so there was not much support. We didn’t prepare for anything. We just ran until we couldn’t any more and started walking. Halfway through, my friend and I decided to have breakfast, after which my friend gave up and went home. I continued and walked to the finish. When I got to the end, there was nobody there. There was nothing left, even the street was cleaned up. I don’t know how long I took, but it felt very long. I persisted to the end, but there was nobody there.

Is there a reason you are looking for such physical challenges?
I want to be a new person. I want to be young again. When you are young again, you have a second life. Now, I am more energetic than some guys in their 20s. I have been driving the company crazy. (laughs)

What’s the longest distance you’ve run so far?
Fifty kilometres, which took about seven hours and 26 minutes in training. Also in training, I’ve done about 170km — the equivalent of four marathons — in 10 days.

How many times a week do you train?
Four times, and I prefer to run at night, since my next race is also at night. When I run, I am working. I am most productive when running. I am the least productive when I’m here in the office. But when I am running, I am solving all the problems and setting all the big strategies. Every time I go out for a run, I come back with some new ideas that need to be implemented. But when I’m in the office I get distracted, emails and people disturbing you.

A lot of people cannot understand the joy derived from running. Why do you do it?
Running changes your life. When I run, I am synchronised with the universe, so you can become more creative when you run. A lot of great ideas over the past year were crystalised and solved while I was running. Also, my brain is much sharper now. I used to go to meetings and take notes. Now I don’t, because I can remember everything. During my runs, I think about a lot of things and as such, it’s not boring at all.
Once, I had a problem with an invention, an IT type of product relating to imaging. I had been thinking about it for more than 10 years, and I didn’t have a solution. But in 20 minutes — while running — I found a solution. When I came back, I got my lawyer to file a patent. My lawyer is now stressed. He has 20 to 30 patents behind him, ideas that came up while I was running.

What do you think about when you are running?
The long distance can be boring. I am either counting my footsteps, or I start thinking about everything else — work, the world, the rising cost of food prices, the environmental problems we are facing, everything. You are in sync with the universe when you do that. Some people meditate (to achieve that), but I run.

Do you follow a particular diet now?
No. In fact, I am more prone to eating rubbish now. After a run at East Coast, I go to McDonald’s and reward myself with McWings. Normally I don’t take food like that, but now I can afford to.

packaging

Appearance - how important is it?

Packaging - how critical is it?

Packaging - a small piece of cracker,

dressed up to look like a special piece of snack.

so elegant, oh so interesting.

Three, four little wasabi-wrapped nuts,

nestling in a triangular pyramid.

So dainty, oh so cute.

Just four little nuts.

A piece of rice cracker,

wrapped in nice plastic with intriguing designs.

Oh so cute, oh so interesting.

How packaging can transform.

Like makeovers for humans.

a S s snake in the backyard

A snake, a snake,

a snake gliding next to the wall.

Smoothly, smoothly, it glided,

a smooth operator indeed.

highlighting its spoils, covering its tracks,

erasing them with its ghastly distasteful fluid.

The snake, the snake,

the smooth operator.

Friend, foe or Trojan horse?

A meltingly hot Saturday

We're melting; we're melting.

Under the hot Sun

with its harsh punishing heat.

Quick, water the plants;

quick, go under the fan.

We're melting; we're melting,

like ice kacang when the mountain of ice is not eaten fast enough,

like the ice-cream, melting, melting, melting away ...

Eat with Your Family

Today is Eat With Your Family day. Mui Hoong's commentary is a good reminder of how precious time with family and friends is.

Do we live to work, or work to live? Do we live life, or just live?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FRIDAY MATTERS
Overwork: The socially acceptable addiction
By Chua Mui Hoong

THIS is the day you should stop work early, head home, whip up some yummy dishes for your kids and have dinner at home.
It's Eat With Your Family Day today. Tomorrow marks the start of a month-long calendar of activities to celebrate families, an annual fiesta organised by the National Family Council.
Chances are, you didn't know all that. Chances are, you'll be working late again tonight. Chances are, you'll say it can't be helped and anyway you can have dinner with your family and kids some other time.
Which are all true.
Except that often, that 'any time' becomes tomorrow, next week, next month - and before you know it, it's three months and you haven't made it home for dinner.
And one day you leave the office early because you're so sick that all your colleagues beg you to go back so they won't catch your nasty virus; you walk out of the building to your car, look around and wonder why things look so different - and you realise that, hey, it has been months since it was still light when you knocked off work.
Many career-minded professionals I know would identify with the feelings above.
But chances are, most would shrug it off as the nature of things, just the way things are in hard-driving, hard-driven Singapore.
But they would be wrong.
Many Singaporeans are hardworking. But some routinely clock in 12- to 14-hour workdays and remain glued to their Blackberries on weekends and holidays.
What they don't know is that hard work can cross the line easily into overwork. And that overwork is a disease that causes havoc in one's personal life.
At its extreme, it can kill.
Last week, I wrote in The Sunday Times about infidelity as a threat to happy marriages. One comment on this issue came from an astute woman, who said that infidelity takes many forms - and that work is the 'mistress' of many Singaporean husbands.
In fact, overwork is an even more insidious destroyer of families because it disguises itself as responsible breadwinning behaviour.
The key is to recognise when the line between hard work and overwork gets crossed.
To me, hard work is putting in effort to do your job the best you can - but without sacrificing your own health or mental well-being, and without sacrificing your closest relationships.
Things usually start well.
You love what you do. You're talented at it. You don't mind the long hours and the unpredictable weekends that get burnt to finish up a project.
Yet another year rolls by when you celebrate your birthday, or your wedding anniversary, at your desk - and you shrug it off.
It's just another day, after all. You can make it up to her, or him, some other time.
You miss your children's milestone events. Soon, you're scheduling all your family time around the spare slots you have on your work calendar.
Can't take a vacation in June, there're all these board meetings. Not in July either - it's the mid-year stock take. August is terrible as all the ang mohs go away for their summer leave, leaving us locals to carry the load. September is when next year's strategic review takes place.
And before you know it, another year has gone by, you haven't taken a proper break with family or friends - and the whole cycle repeats itself.
Those caught up in this cycle think it's okay because they get well rewarded as the responsibilities pile on.
I know because I once subscribed to that workaholic ethic.
In my 20s, I was as achievement-oriented as they come. Fourteen-hour days didn't faze me. I used to volunteer for weekend duty. I loved the thrill of travelling on back-to-back overseas assignments. Birthdays and Christmases were just another work day.
As my regular readers know, my wake-up call was a cancer diagnosis at 33. I'm in remission now, but I have learnt to approach work differently: not as the be-all and end-all of my life, but as a purposeful activity I enjoy but won't sacrifice health and family for.
What workaholics fail to see is that work can be an addiction.
But unlike more common addictions like gambling or pornography, they get rewarded and praised for indulging in their addiction to work.
Not for nothing is workaholism called the 'socially acceptable addiction'.
How does one know if one's capacity for hard work is actually addiction to overwork in disguise?
Litmus test 1: When those closest and nearest to you start to tell you so, or worse, start to discount you from their plans.
When your spouse complains of neglect. When your kids stop asking you to play with them because 'Mummy's always busy'. When relatives stop inviting you to gatherings because they know you'd never make it anyway.
But, as with any addiction, the common response to others' concern is denial and externalising of blame.
Of course you're not a workaholic, you reason. Why, you just spent the morning on the golf course (never mind that it was with colleagues, talking about work).
You don't have a problem. The problem lies with your family, who don't appreciate your hard work to give them a good life and, worse, are being so demanding.
This denial is common with addicts.
Those closest to us are often the first to recognise the symptoms of addiction and to urge change. Addicts avoid these people as they don't wish to give up their addiction.
Litmus test 2: What do you do on your days off and vacation? If you head back to your office to 'catch up' on work undone, you have a problem.
An article in The New York Times last year on this issue noted: 'Chances are you're a workaholic if you feel compelled to work for the sake of working and you feel panic, anxiety or a sense of loss when you aren't working.'
Another good reality check: When was the last time you had a weekday dinner with your family?
If it was more than a month ago, you could do worse than head back home to Eat With Your Family today.

(Thanks to ST, Fri 23 May 08)

unexpected sight

In a daze, tired daze,

early morning (or not so early) "waking up",

getting ready to leave for work,

then there it was,

an unexpected sight

of two squirrels out in the morning,

looking for fruits and nuts.

They moved along the gate,

scampered onto the wall.

But naughty squirrels,

they didn't stay still for the photo shoot.

That's why the picture is of

hazy fuzzies.

Rhapsody of the trees

Sighted along North Buona Vista Road, near the Biopolis ....

... see the pattern of the tree trunks? Rhapsody of the tree (trunks), no? :)

how many moons

How many moons must we count

before the rainbow comes?

How many times must we walk

the long corridor,

at times in anxiety,

at times in numbed anticipation,

at times in accustomed resignation,

to the same old news?

How many moons must we see

as night falls,

and one retires to the same bed,

clinical and functional,

unlike the warmth of the familiar bed at home?

How many times must we see

the neighbouring bedders come and go,

while one remains,

a time when one doesn't want to be the familiar pillar around the place?

How many medical conferences have we seen

come and go,

that you fly to,

while one remains, X-ray everyday.

How many moons must we see

rise and descend;

how many moons, doctor?

the Maverick .. and black swans

On black swans and mavericks ...


"... A maverick, if he believes very strongly in something, should have the courage and the persistence to press his ideas. If he gives up after meeting resistance the first time, he's not a maverick.


The job of leadership is to make sure that mavericks, even though they have a hard time, are not destroyed in the process of pushing their ideas. I think many leaders in the civil service understand and have the wisdom to manage these people.


It will be very difficult to find somebody who's prepared to stand up and explain why he disagrees with me. But if he can explain, and he believes strongly enough, then I'll give him the time of day, and he may change my mind. "


(With thanks to ST, 17 May 08)

Ice kacang, anyone?

Ice kacang on a hot day. This is an ice kacang with a difference - with sweetcorn and peanut topping! :P

A very big helping, but a bit too sweet though.

The rolling vessel

Quick, quick, roll the vessel, came the order.
Roll, roll it, to gather the moss.

Hmm, exceedingly familiar that does sound.
But deep from the memories of early days in school,
came the now not-oft quoted line:
an empty vessel gathers no moss.

Of course, no moss it gathers!
For it rolls on grounds that have no moss!

Know thy terrain, one can hear the Wise One say.

No moss in the area, how to gather moss?
No wonder the vessel makes such a din as it rolls down the rocky path.

catastrophes

Sad news all over the papers and TV.
First the cyclone in Myanmar and the problems with relief aid.
Then the earthquake in Sichuan/China ...
and at the same time, the blasts in Jaipur.

We must hug our kids more tightly in appreciation.

When people are desperately trying to save children and other people from the debris of the earthquake in Sichuan, we hear news of a boy being allegedly murdered by his mother as part of an apparent suicide attempt. How sad :( How could a mother (or father) harm her own child?! How could one harm another person?

We must count our blessings, really!

a hot Saturday

It's a (temperature) hot Saturday. One feels like withering out there in the sweltering heat. Quick, quick, get into the coolness of the building!

thoughts from Tekong

Thoughts and love while out in camp, carving this out of a twig under the moonlight ...

Symphony of the Crickets

Spin, spin, spin, went the washing machine,
its sounds emitting around the neighbourhood in the night.
Then as one got to work,
after work,
hanging up the laundry,
soaking in the silence of the night, nerves unfolding and relaxing,
came the "chirp, chirp" sound of the crickets.
As the nightly air cooled and chilled, the sounds of the crickets rose to a crescendo,
like a symphony, an orchestra.
And as one continued to hang up the laundry, the crickets went into encore,
after encore, after encore,
sending one off, after the last piece of laundry was up,
to the ringing sounds of the cricket symphony
in the clear night air.
Hopefully the "music" would lead to sweet dreams.

sorbet, sorbet, on the plate

It was supposed to be peach sorbet

- sorbet in a peach.

Yummy, it sounded.

When it came, the heart of the "orderer" must have sank.

Tock, tock, tock,

the spoon hit against the sorbet, causing nary a dent.

Wah, hard as rock, how to eat?

Well, eventually it tha-w-ed ...

Wonder if the peach could be eaten, some asked.

Perhaps it's re-used as a "prop" for the sorbet, one suggested

to the disgust of the one who ordered it!

the l o n g corridor

The long corridor
where people rush up and down,
rush, rush, to the lifts.

The long corridor
where people pour out of the lifts,
and hurry to the wards,
to visit their loved ones and friends.

The long corridor
to the specialist clinics, to the imaging centre for scans,
and a passageway to the new building.

The long corridor
where anxious NOKs pace up and down,
some in the waiting lounge,
awaiting news of operations done successfully.

The long corridor
ending in the recovery ward
where patients await after the op,
where it leads to the ICU
for those who need it.

The long corridor
next to theatres with serious operations,
yet its solemn silence oft (inconsiderately) broken
by the running of feet, some small, some not so small,
shattering the peaceful silence needed to save lives.
Lest they forget, the long corridor is not a running track
or part of a shopping mall.
Some consideration, one wishes some people would give,
to the need for tranquility for quick recovery.

when I wasn't looking ...

When I wasn't looking,

the leaves fell onto the ground, the pots and the drains.

When I wasn't looking,

the weeds quietly seeded themselves in my favourite pots of plants and started growing.

When I wasn't looking,

the plants grew taller and the koi grew bigger.

And

when I was wasn't looking,

the orchid plant grew buds that showed potential of blossoming! Hurray! :)

Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day. See the sexy mommies on the cover of Urban/ST >>


Who says mummies are dowdy and 黄脸婆 (yellow-faced women)? We are mummies who connect with the Generationa Y! SMS, pda, MSN, Facebook ... yeh, we know them all!



（Thanks to ST Urban.)

a tale of two boys

Georgie and Oliver lived in the same town. In fact, they lived in the same house - a home to Georgie and an abode to Oliver.

Everyday when Georgie went to school in the horse-driven carriage, little Oliver tended to the farm under the strict supervision of his Uncle Toby (Georgie's father). Over the years, little Oliver grew up strong, as did the farm plot under him, nurturing delicious fruits and succulent vegetables.

One day, there was an uproar in the little town. The chickens that the town had put under Uncle Toby's charge had escaped. As Uncle Toby hurried around to find those darn chickens, he told Georgie to give out cookies to the writers of the local gazette, to sweeten them into writing a good story about the chickens' escape.

But the ground was sour, and remained so for weeks.

Then a Wise Man came and told Uncle Toby that he should have given out the cookies to all, not just the writers.

In a fit of fury, Uncle Toby turned to the nearest one around him - and it happened to be Oliver - and berated Oliver for not getting the cookies from Georgie to distribute to everyone else.

Utterly bewildered, Oliver looked at Uncle Toby with his wide innocent eyes (as angelic as those of David A of American Idol fame) and asked a pertinent question, "But Uncle Toby, those cookies were under Georgie's charge. How could I have taken them from him? Especially since there was no instruction from you to do so? There was also no instruction from you for me to get involved. Remember how you had said in the past that we cannot interfere with the good work that Georgie does?"

"You, you failed to do what the Wise Man said we should have done. It's your failure. It's your fault that we didn't manage this whole episode of the chickens' escape well. You should go to a corner and reflect on what you failed to do."

Little Oliver, more bewildered than ever, feeling most letdown, and having a feeling of being made a scapegoat, went obediently to a corner...

Seeds that grow

Seeds.

Plant, plant, plant the seeds;

Nurture, nurture, nurture the seeds

with fertiliser in the soil,

water tenderly given,

sunlight specially exposed

to make the food that is needed to grow tall, succulent and green.

Seeds.

When the seeds start growing,

and eventually grow up lush, strong and green,

hai ... one feels a great sense of pride and satisfaction.

Even more so, when they flower and blossom.

*Bliss*Pride*

fatique

Fatique

f-a-t-i-q-u-e

Tired, lack of energy.

One feels the energy draining off,

and limbs go limp

just at the word.

Passion and enthusiasm are deflated

flatter than a burst balloon.

Fatique.

An energiser, a perk-me-up,

a word of encouragement,

a word of appreciation,

does wonders to inject energy,

to boost the enthusiasm,

and restore the passion.

As we travel the road,

there are ups and downs, twists and turns,

unappreciative clouds that threaten

with thunder and torrents of rain

that throw one down the valley of despair,

fatiqued and despondent, drained of fighting spirit.

Just say Yes - the path of least resistance

and of certain rewards.

A hot May Day

A hot hot May Day, with the Sun blasting from above.

A good time for ice kacang, and a cup of tea, while seeking coolness under a rotating fan.

On such days, though we be sweating away, the eyes feast on the blue blue sky and the white white clouds above.

Quick, get back into the house, under the cool fan and the cooling air-con.

Quick, quick, get ready for turbulent weather when the Sun retreats and grey clouds approach later on.