Something tells me that I’m deeply missing the days of painful, arduous triathlon training. It doesn’t help that Singapore’s inaugural 70.3 race is on this weekend, on my birthday, and I will be missing out on all the action. Even though I wasn’t going to participate, I’d still have loved to be in the thick of action and lend my support to the racers.

Pity it still gets dark too early to be out training after work, and it doesn’t help that nowhere in Melbourne is really safe enough at night.

If anything, I miss the discipline of going for swimming classes after work – that progression from dread to accomplishment that I experience each week. I miss the adrenaline, the phyiscal pain, the mental challenge, the sweat. I miss the aches after a good training session.

I’ve now dedicated Sundays to my long runs around Princes Park while the Jman plays his soccer, and on Saturdays we take our bikes out; still, it feels nothing close to the Saturday morning rides on Changi Coastal or long runs along the ECP, and my swim gear has been left to rot in the drawer. I miss brick training the most.

Maybe I should’ve just signed up for the half marathon instead.