Choya is 9!

Choya turned nine years old. I don't know what to feel about that. She has been this solemn, mature and fairly responsible girl since she was maybe three years old. She has been the sweetest thing. She is even more bonded to us now, and in the recent two years, she could literally read my mind. 

A healthy Shiba-ken's median lifespan is 14.5 years. That's a fairly long time compared to the other breeds. I've heard of Shibas living till 16 years old and are relatively okay. A Shiba-ken is considered a senior dog when it reaches 10 years of age. I'm not seeing symptoms of her slowing down just yet. But she will, soon. 

When I'm so focused on myself aging strongly and as healthily as I can, you have no doubt that I can do the same for Choya. I can read, educate myself and better understand her aging process. She is genetically disposed to certain diseases — gangliosidosis, glaucoma and a range of eye defects, luxating patella, hip dysplaxia, and canine cognitive dysfunction (CCD), and such. I can help with joint and muscles, but not with her immune system and what her genetic code has dictated. I can only hope that what I have done is sufficient to help her immune system age gently. 

To think that I didn't even want her to begin with, and I was a tad resentful that the husband insisted for us to have her when I wasn't even ready for a dog in the home. Pffffft. Now she rules the home and our schedules. She positively dictates mine. I dread to think of the day I accept that she's declining, and I dread the day she passes. And for the husband too, I'm sure he doesn't want to face her decline. She's his first dog, and she's got him wrapped up in her little paws.  

This girl is absolutely confident, reassured and comfortable. She doesn't go ape-shit at other dogs. She's calm and snobbish. She likes being with us, but she doesn't have separation anxiety. Only a phobia of thunderstorms. She doesn't know what a horrible human is (may she never), or how it's like to go without food and clean water. I don't scold her anymore. She can do no wrong. I was a lot more terrified of losing her when she was younger because of her tendency to bolt and that zero recall. Now, she's more settled, but she still makes me do a 200-meter sprint annually when she decides to run amok in the estate's carpark on a whim. Zzzzzz. 

When she's running free on the beach or on a big patch of grass, and she comes bounding towards me when I call her, my heart melts. When she has big feelings and needs to do zoomies after an outing and before we get into the car to go home, she gets to do zoomies to her heart's content. 

She's Miss Sticky-Paws to me, my little shadow. My beautiful girl. Ahhhh... ... ... my heart. She'll be my greatest heartbreak in this life. 

Prata with Sambal Please

Sometimes I wonder why prata stalls in Singapore don't offer sambal along with the prata. Curry at the side is the standard. I very much prefer fish curry to chicken. And I always would like to have sambal along with it. Now that sugar. I don't understand the sugar. Why! Why would anyone eat prata with spoonfuls of sugar. Walao. 

Mr and Mrs Mohgan's at Joo Chiat offers sambal ikan bilis along with their prata. This is probably about the only stall that the husband would have the patience to queue to order, then wait an hour for the food. The only problem is, for the long wait, all we could stomach is one prata each. Gone are the days we could do two pieces even. 

If you can turn up at 6.30am or 7am, that would be the best. Anything after this timing means that you have to wait for at least 45 minutes for your food. It's normally a one-hour wait. Weekends are mad. Bring portable fans. Bring cash. It's cash only. Or you'd have to beg to borrow cash and PayNow the kind soul.

That day, we wanted coffee, and a walk for Choya. Popped out to Joo Chiat. That was already 11am. Just a comforting glass of kopi-o-siu-siu-dai iced. It was pretty decent. The queue for prata was manageable, so the husband ordered, and his queue number was 177. By 180, they closed the orders and told everyone else it was sold out! By 11.30am! We got our food only at 12.15pm. They did serve till 12.45pm and called it a day.

I'm not super keen on prata. It's tasty but I won't do more than one. So I wouldn't waste my carb quota on random prata. Today, I wasn't in the mood for it, except for a bite. So I had the caifan. This point-point rice stall is decent, but it doesn't beat my favorite Everton Park stall, only because this one's sodium levels higher.

I had to pee mid-way. That was the first time I used this kopitiam's toilet. It's super old school sial. It was surprisingly clean. I suppose it's fewer stalls/staff using as well. And IT'S A SQUAT TOILET> OMG. I was so pleased! No wonder it's clean! Nobody wanted to use it! Bahahahhaha. 

I love it that Choya is perfectly fine chilling with us at the kopitiam. Our table that day was right at the street corner. It wasn't that near that road, so we didn't get a full blast of dust and vehicle exhaust. The haze wasn't present this morning; there was a little breeze that stirred occasionally. She was really happy to watch the world go by and didn't want to snooze at all. 

Mrs and Mrs Mohgan's Crispy Prata
300 Joo Chiat Rd, Singapore 427551 
Tin Yeang Restaurant (non-air-conditioned kopitiam)
Hours: 6.30pm to 1.30pm. (Closed on Wednesdays.)

Walking Lunges With a Sandbag

The coach has been ending our sessions with walking sandbag lunges. He did give me the option of lunging with dumbbells or to do Bulgarian split squats. NO to both. If I'm lunging with dumbells, then I might as well haul a sandbag across the shoulders and walk the lunges instead. No to Bulgarian split squats either. I hate them. I recognize that they're great. The one movement all runners should be do. I will do them weekly but it's absolutely vile on PT days after heavy back squats and deadlifts. Hahahaha.

I don't bother with a 10-kg sandbag anymore. That's really too light for me now. It has to be the 20-kg. When I tried out the 20-kg, I wasn't able to haul it up in a swift clean-and-press. It wasn't the weight. It was the timing. It's also a wriggly bag with shifting sand and that was initially a bit difficult to grasp. Once I practiced a little, I got it. A straight up clean-and-press and over the head, and across the shoulders. 

Now, the coach thinks it's really cool to end all our PT sessions with this: 20-kg, 100-meters. SO DEAD. It's a great exercise to work those glutes, quads and hamstrings. The lunges are done knee-to--floor. People ask if I'm training for Hyrox Singapore in November. NO. The answer is no. I don't care about Poop-rox. All these exercises aren't unique to Hyrox; they exist pre-Hyrox. They're simply functional and great to train day-to-day strength. 

A strong set of glutes, quads and hamstrings is the only thing that would save me from breaking my bones in a fall. Piling on muscles always help with staving off osteopenia. I'm acutely aware of that. And my body needs to be in optimal condition — not for races, but to do life with minimal physical pain and hiccups.