Midway upon the journey of our life, I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightforward pathway had been lost. — Inferno, Canto I, by Dante, translation by Henry W. Longfellow.
Sunlight streamed through the deep green foliage, throwing patterns of dappled light across the muddy ground, forever littered with broken twigs, dried leaves and small creatures. It was vaguely peaceful, somewhat dreamlike, until my ragged breathing jolted me back to the reality of my situation: I was lost.
Let me backtrack a little. I participated in a 'trekathon' organised by my college, partly because I wanted to have some fun time with my friends and partly because of my own adventurousness. Yesterday morning, we took the bus to Bukit Gasing, the place where this trekathon was to be held. We had our warm-ups and briefings before we beat each other out to the top of the hill (interdepartmental rivalry, I guess).
At first it was exhilarating. We jogged down the hill, then wound back up and then down again. Some aunties and uncles whom we met on our way were very fit and they knew the paths better than we did. We students relied upon signs and guides posted at intervals along the long track.
We reached the river and that was where things turned bad. A few Indian kids pointed the way, backwards. Believing the direction they gave to be true, a few mates and I turned back instead of crossing the shallow river. The further we trekked, the more confused we became. Weren't these the same trees we encountered just a while ago? Wasn't this route we used earlier on? We were lost, and soon we realised that we'd went back the way we came.
Overtaking students from other departments or winning the trekathon suddenly seemed less alluring than finding our way out of this maze. Fortunately there were more experienced seniors who roughly knew the way as they'd joined the trekathon last year. Also, the elders that we met were most helpful in giving correct directions, unlike those brats near the river.
I couldn't be more relieved when the finishing line came within sight. I got the seventy-seventh place (Rowling would be happy with this number), and without a doubt I exceeded the time limit. My friends were already resting, their faces red from exertion. I know from experience that cooling down after running can help me avoid sores and cramps in my thighs, so I repeatedly did some cooling down exercises instead of sitting on the ground and resting.
Food and drinks were provided, but I was disappointed to find that there were no bananas. Maybe the sheer number of monkeys swinging above us from tree to tree was enough to deter the organisers from putting bananas in plain sight. I helped myself to some sandwiches, watermelon slices and orange juice. The fried chicken drumsticks were very tempting, but I steered clear of them.
The overall winner for the event is our department, the defending champion. Jump, yell and laugh we did, with our fists pumping the air!
