Operation fitness

Exactly one year ago on this day, I was drugged, slipped into unconsciousness, and allowed surgeons to cut me up in my sleep, so that I could recover from a sports-related condition (those who are fortunate enough to have not seen photos of my recovering wound should count your lucky stars).

It took me about two months to heal completely -- and my downtime was a welcome change: No longer did I feel obliged to wake up at 5am to run (and on certain days, 6am to swim), or late-night bike riding sessions if I had signed up for a triathlon race.

But while my physical-activity level dropped to near-zilch, I was physically active still, when it came to eating.

Not surprisingly, in a matter of two months, I went from triathlete to triangle.

But don't get me wrong.

Despite that, I was still in shape. Round is a shape.

And since most good things come in round shapes -- mooncakes, gold coins, halos -- I was in good shape.

But then, I started to worry.

Before my surgery, I won't have problem running from Boon Lay to Pasir Ris, non stop. So imagine my shock when, two months later, I was out of breath when I climbed a flight of stairs.

Then, out of my kind heart, I began to worry for the living things around me. God bless any horse I sit on.

And so, in October 2011, when I was given the all-clear by my surgeon to resume my active lifestyle, I went all out: From park connectors to swimming pools.

My aim: To stop panting like a pervert whenever I took the overhead bridge, and to get back to my pre-surgery fitness level.

Like every marathon route, my journey was painful, and very tiring but a hell lot of fun.

And it's proved one thing -- it's never too late to start (or restart) a healthy lifestyle.