Sunday, November 27, 2011


This morning, I was plodding past the Indian temple towards the Bukit Kiara hill circuit when someone behind me coughed.

Getting there (I can do the same pose). Source: Xtreme Athletix

Turning, I saw a tall, lean black man (is there any other kind that runs in Malaysia?) in a white t-shirt and orange-striped blacks tights blithely striding up the incline.

Being courteous, I moved aside to let him pass. As he passed, he said, "Good morning!" and I said, Hi!"

Maybe no one's he's spoken to has ever responded in kind, because he turned around and said, "Come, let's jogging!"

Me. Go jogging with orange-striped black tights running man?


Whose face was almost as bright as my shirt from the exertion of having toddled 1 km?

I nodded and grinned. To my relief, he went back to running and I resumed plodding, but about 5 counts later, my new friend turned back again and gestured for me to keep up.

What could I do but mime desperately catching my breath to the eager soul? He nodded understandingly and loped off easily through the horde that swarmed the hill, and that was the last I saw of the first ever African runner who spoke to me.

Artistic rendering of orange-striped black tights running man. Source as above.

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