28/04/07
The world record does not change the way we live, it solves no problem, but it reminds us of the nobility of the athlete, his pure persistence, an example of the muscularity of the human spirit. Occasionally, we are shaken by insinuations that the most chaste champion (i.e., Thorpe) may be fake, but still we keep the faith, we have to. Else, why watch.

Phelps is no different than an explorer, a navigator of unknown rivers, for he is going where no human has gone before, an advertisement of what is possible when body and mind are in tune. For every 0.05 of a second gained, Phelps must swim hundreds of miles, taste pain and lick it.

But because there is no such thing as the perfect race (Phelps found some error of stroke rhythm or turn technique in his races in Melbourne, some imperfection in reaction time at the start), man can only go faster. Even Bob Beamon's leap, which defied the imagination, was eventually beaten. In 1935, on the day when Owens broke those records, his back was stiff.

it all starts here.





|jav| 12:31 AM|

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13/04/07
just read muddy's post on our njcc race and experienced the whole exhilaration of rowing in a competition again.

that most memorable race ever was when it actually felt good.
at the end of the day, deep down inside it's not the timing that determines whether a race was 'good' or 'bad'. it is in the frame of mind you had while in your boat rowing with all that you had, the physical sensation of flying across water and literally feeling the boat as an extension of your body. it is in the starting burst [at least for muddy and i] where we lose tract of the first 3-4 buoys, it's in the maintenance when my eyes were fixated on each passing buoy, and muddy's eyes fixated on me. it's in the end bit where we could hear the rest cheering at the top of their voices, the sudden shout in my head that went 'row for God! row for the team! row for muddy!' it is the blur that the whole excitement ended as soon as it started, and that all that arm punching, torso twisting, feet kicking in our boat was almost like a dream. it is in the sheer exhilaration of knowing it had been a close one, and we hadnt discounted ourselves in any way out there. finally, it is the wave of gratitude to God for being there with us in all that 2+ min, holding our hands and giving us strength. for so graciously giving us another chance to chase the same sensation all over again.

the pressure is mounting day by day. sometimes we lose focus, we get disappointed and distracted, we get bogged down by school work. after all, we are only humans. but beyond all the grey fuzz that momentarily clouds our vision for our goal, there is the bigger, greater dream of that great race shining on. we will get there, because we'll help each other in refusing to shift our gaze away from that light, that dream. we will get there, because there is an incredible amount of strength in encouragement, genuine love and concern in the team.

what will the next 3 months bring? lots of sweat and tears [well and you know, blisters and blood] but also joy. perhaps lots of self-doubt and questioning, but i do believe also comfort and assurance in knowing there are mad people around, training and desperately keeping awake after trainings to study, with me. trainings will become mundane only when we lose that child-like discovery and sense of wonder at just how much more we can push.

rowing might be the closest i'll ever get to flying, and im never gonna forget, or let it go.
RAFFLES ROW!


|jav| 6:24 PM|

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a book of Chopin scores lay on a old scratched table. you were singing softly to yourself, walking in circles at the quiet side of the classroom. the noise couldnt reach you, because you were beyond all the usual incessant meaningless chatter that fills the empty spaces. you'd found your little bubble apart from us.
i envied you then.

you were less than a feet away; i could have touched you if i stretched out my hand. but the distance between us was more than i could bear. i wish you would tell me what it is that made you sad.

i kept wanting to run down stairs, to where we had sat in the sunny spot on the grass. it's getting a little too cold, longing for warmth to reach in. i miss our conversations. i miss you.

awkward exchange of words. i cringed a little inside. i dont know what went through your head as we stood, clumsily throwing sentences around; pretentious conversation. i stared at you, wanting so hard to recall if there was any true affection and friendship back then. there was.

i was sad, because i allowed you to make me feel silly. why couldnt i see that you're damaged goods, and that there isn't anything i could do about it? the past days had felt like a free fall off a cliff, but i'm glad i woke up in time.


|jav| 5:09 PM|

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08/04/07
Savior, He can move the mountains
My God is mighty to save
He is mighty to save

Forever, Author of Salvation
He rose and conquered the grave
Jesus conquered the grave

'How can anyone refuse to accept a love so pure?'

there is anger, grief, disillusionment, cynicism, jealousy, discontentment in the environment that we're living in right now. but how is it that we're willing to cling so tightly onto these things that only give us deeper pain when we could so simply let go, look in the other direction and see nothing short of God's unwavering love and grace?

You were there, enduring the pain of sin. sacrifice and redemption made perfect and complete by the shedding of Your blood. You're blameless, but yet You bore it all for us. all in the name of love.


|jav| 5:12 AM|

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