關於 fat 2 fit body race ，我們在網路上蒐集到這些相關的討論、資訊與評價

เส้นชัยไม่ได้อยู่ในสนามวิ่ง
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ผมละเลยการตรวจสุขภาพมาเนิ่นนาน ตั้งแต่เลิกทำงานประจำก็ไม่ได้ตรวจสอบคุณภาพร่างกายอีกเลย นับเวลาได้เกินสิบปี ญาติมิตรเตือนว่า เมื่อเคลื่อนผ่านมาถึง 'หลักสี่' โรคภัยกำลังจะทำหน้าที่ของมันแล้ว ควรไปส่องกล้องมองหามันเอาไว้ ก่อนจะถูกจู่โจมฉับพลันแล้วล้มป่วยแรงแบบไม่มีสิทธิแก้ตัว

มะเร็ง หัวใจ เส้นเลือดตีบ ถุงลมโป่ง ตับแข็งหรืออ่อน ปอดดำหรือชมพู ควรรู้เอาไว้บ้าง
...Continue ReadingThe Finish line is not on the running field.
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I have been neglecting my health check for a long time since I quit working. I haven't checked my body quality again. I count the time for more than ten years. My friends warn that when I move through ' lak four ' illness is about to do its duty. I should go to Look for it before being attacked suddenly, then fall sick without excuses.

Cancer, heart, blood vessels, emphysema, cirrhosis, or soft, dark or pink lungs

I nodded but always neglect like many things in my life

Time has passed. I have turned from human ' Workaholic ' or ' a human being that I named ' homo finishers ' or crazy breed running.

Been working out in addiction for two years, eight marathons, one 200 kilometers, and 70-100 km cycling. All of these are fun and tricky.

Medals are gifts and proof of which field we have been through. But more importantly, before taking ourselves through those torture, we have to practice hard and consistent.

I went back to school life again. Happy waking up, sweating like a dam.

I feel refreshed than early thirties, mental and spiritual condition. Become young instead of age numbers.

Well, physically, mentally, I can feel myself, but one thing that I never knew was that the internal organs and science measurable. Bad or great?

...

At the age of forty, it's time to have full health check. Wait for the results with the focus on liver, spleen, kidney, heart, lungs, fat in the ve

Then I opened the door to hear the verdict from the doctor's mouth.

"heart effect through"

The doctor said that the last fat result (ten years) is a heavy crisis. Even though I need to reduce cholesterol fat. Blood Sugar is worrisome. That's the health of not even thirty!

"today is better" Doctor Yim

Good heart, fat decreases cholesterol. Only fat. The result of hereditary as high as sisters and mother, but reduced from last time. Reduced to 'UNWORRISOME' level.

" today, I haven't given medicine " doctor smile " try to try to drop again. Let it touch the lowest point as hereditary allows. It may not need medicine at all "

Working out again. Getting fit - doctor recommended

I nodded and told the doctor, " I will try. Next time it will be better than this time

"everything is reduced. Weight, sugar, fat, cholesterol, liver, lungs, heart is good"

"let me catch a pulse"

I put my wrist.

"it's considered dancing but still fit. If you fit like an athlete will dance very slowly" like a doctor challenged me to get more fit.

I nodded "okay. Next time I will be more fit"

"see you again next year, hopefully better"

I raise my hand to pay respect to the doctor

...

Bring this story because I'm happy. I want to show off this joy. But more than that I want to invite brothers and sisters to take care of yourself.

I start by running 5 km a day Because I can't stand my own chubby. Change my goal to finish line marathon. Then run at least three days a week. Average 30-40 km. A week until I used to be fat, heart, fat, fat, fat all over the finish the marathon.

More than the body is a refreshing mind.

Admittedly, I'm addicted to running. It's a drug that works. We are happy every time we use it. Even before running, we have to get a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a bit of a

I used to be happy and proud when I ran the finish. Today is a new feeling. I'm so glad when I listen to the doctor's mouth results.

Just like today, I got an invisible 'Coin' as a gift.

Stats are not time, page or distance. If it's the results and it looks like there is still a finish line to go on.

The more fun getting fit and practicing

...

Some people argue that there are many exercises. Just a moment, they are hit by a car and die. Yes, exercise doesn't guarantee longevity. It may not be as important as feeling good as the cuddle of the body and heart every day that we are. Live live

Fatigue from work, stress from race, confused mind from hustle, depression from many things that accumulation may unfold or less in a simple way -- just pick up your shoes and go out to sweat.

If my late twenties found myself today, he would be surprised why the clock is ticking ' how it's younger than me ' and he would like to thank whatever it is bringing ' running ' addiction into my life. And him.

Eliud kipshoke - one of the world's best marathon runner - once claimed an ancient quote, " the best time to plant a tree was twenty-five years ago, but the good time is today

Taking care of your health is like that.

This evening is the best time.

Pick up the shoes and go run

Ourselves in the next twenty five years, thanks to ourselves today.

Planting trees 🌲

#หยิบรองเท้าแล้วกลับไปเป็นหนุ่มสาวกันอีกครั้ง
#หยิบรองเท้าแล้วรักษาความเป็นหนุ่มสาวกันเอาไว้
#แท็กไปชวนคนที่คุณอยากให้เขาอยู่ด้วยกันไปนานๆ
#ด้วยรักและปรารถนาดีครับ 😊Translated

longtailbutterfly, an NSF serving in SCDF, shares a day in his life on Reddit. Thank you for your service.
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"Let's tell a story.

I'm working my 24 hr (work 24 hours, off 48 hours) duty. It's 1100 and I just finished morning lecture (equipment drill and familiarisation) in the engine bay of my fire station. It's a Saturday so our rota (platoon-ish) orders nasi lemak. Coding comes in over the loudspeaker and we turn out to a case of locked door, suspected DOA (decomposing body). Traffic doesn't give way to our LF (red rhino), as per usual (smh). We arrive at the HDB unit and instantly we smell the dead body. The knowledge of smell will come with experience. The niece, who called 995, asks me if her uncle will be ok. I already know the body is decomposing but I reply "We're unsure, but we'll try our best". I lie to her face. My pump operator (PO, and the only regular in the crew) looks at me and grimaces. We've been in this situation together many times before. We easily break the door and the smell intensifies. I go in first, followed by the ambulance (alpha) paramedic. We find the body on the bed in the master bedroom. The paramedic tells me, "About two weeks". The body is severely bloated, skin green and black. The face is unrecognizable as it has bloated too much. Bile attempts to escape from between the discolored lips creating bubbles. The smell is sweet but rotten and my fireman gags. I get the relevant information I need and step out for a breather. The niece looks at me and asks what is going on. I look at her and I know she knows he's dead. "You uncle... has passed away". I turn away to avoid the emotions. Emotions are killers in this line of work.

We get back in time for nasi lemak lunch. The chicken is a bit soggy this week. The smell of rotten flesh lingers in my nostrils. I watch the Malay romantic drama that my enciks chose on the TV. It's ok, the girl is cute.

Before dinner we get another call - unit fire confirm case. We race there and reach before the fire engine (pumper). They're caught in traffic and will take another few minutes. Two firefighters and I proceed to the unit. Instantly the thick black smoke chokes my throat and waters my eyes. I struggle with my breathing cylinder because the air hose delivery tool is stuck between my backplate and my back. I say fuck it, neighbours are already screaming for us to hurry. The pressure escalates but I close myself off from the members of public, just like normal. We all focus. The only things I listen to are my matra (radio) and my fireman. I just wear my facemask for minimal protection and crawl in. The fire is well alight on the stove and I shoot at it. The smoke limits my visibility to 0, I now can't see my fingers as I stretch out my arm. I crawl back out and get stuck on a fallen wire. I panic as I think of my family. Emotions are dangerous. A fire biker crawls in and frees me. We step out and I tell the crew the fire is almost finished but our CAF backpacks are finished (water foam sprayers). I send the firefighters down to set up water supply from hydrant and crawl back in with the firebiker. The smoke makes it feel like someone just threw hot ash down my throat. We extinguish the fire using an ass-washing hose from the kitchen toilet. I am coughing badly but he sprays my face with the hose. The kitchen is badly burnt. I can feel the smoke damage in my lungs. The owner and neighbours pat me on the back and thank me for saving their home as I walk out. I smile but I know I took another step closer to death.

We get back at 2200 and order McDonalds. It is the best Double McSpicy I’ve eaten in a while.

At lunch the next day my friend (SAF LTA) tells me how stressful being an instructor at SAFTI has been recently. I remember as my cylinder got trapped on the fallen wire, and how I thought of my family in those few struggling seconds. I nod my head and grunt. " SAF has it tough with JCC and everything huh?" I joke. He agrees enthusiastically.

All in a day’s work for the NSFs in SPF/SCDF. If we fail, someone dies from our direct actions. Welcome to NS. No second chances or semula. Just death. I wish the public knew the risks that some NSFs take each day. We might not be as fit as NDU or as garang as commandos, but we put our lives on the line literally every day.

As an NSF I can say I have saved many lives, fought many fires and contributed to Singapore. No play acting or training for a war that will never happen (though I understand the incredible need for an armed military). I love my job, I love NS and wouldn't trade it for anything else (maybe an EMT vocation).

I am still amazed that many members of public still associate NS with army. I wish people would know. There's no greater feeling in this world than knowing some uncle I helped rescue on my first duty at 0200 will live to eat his favourite mee pok or talk cock with his kakis because of my direct actions. Pride and care right?

At least I get paid $1400 a month (;

UPDATE: Thanks for overwhelming suppourt. If I knew how big this would get I would have proofread my writing more 😒 (some might say it spread like fire in dry grass during lalang season). I would tell more stories but I know that it would compromise my anonymity so I'll just shut my mouth, and unfortunately since this is a throw away you guys probably won't be hearing from me again.

What were my goals for this post?

To bring awareness to the nature and extent of NSF work in SCDF.
To just get some words off my chest.
This post was NOT meant to:

Bash SAF. I know the importance of a trained military (I believe I addressed this point in my initial post). If we didn't have the National Service Scheme, invading Singapore as Indonesia or Malaysia would be easy af.

Over-dramatise our work. I tried my hardest to write from a neutral stand point and deliver facts about incidents as cold, hard, and true as the Ben&Jerrys ice cream in my freezer however what we do on a daily sometimes makes me ask "Am I in a Michael Bay film?". It happens to the best of us.

If you were offended, I apologise. My intentions were merely to raise awareness for the often overlooked and under-praised "little brother" NSFs in SCDF/SPF. So many of our kind deserve recognition for what they deal with.

One last short bit before signing off.

EMTs (medical assistants in ambulances) have some of the roughest calls out there, no contest. I was having dinner with my buddy from BRT who later became an EMT at a high volume station when he dropped Fat Man 2.0 on me. Traditionally he and I have always been tuned to similar wavelengths as the chaos-utopia nature of our jobs is only shared between a select few.

He's an NSF like me -- 18-22, male, horny. As per the norm we were sharing gossip about events or big incidents in the Force, latest happenings and where that one cute paramedic at 33 is now. We were just digging in to our chow when he told me "I had a casualty die in my hands for the first time".

According to him it's not common for that to happen. I nod my head as I spool my pasta. It's has a thick green sauce and I can't help but think of my last DOA. I throw the idea out of my mind. Work is work, recreation is recreation. Usually when EMS arrives the casualty has a high chance of surviving, albeit sometimes with long lasting or even permanent injuries, or the casualty is dead. "Case of fall from height. The skull was completely smashed," he told me between mouthfuls of food, "I had the guy in a head grip but the harder I held his skull, the more my fingers just... pressed into his brain. There was no structural integrity left in the skull." We continued eating, he had told me of a similar case before. It wasn't new news to either of us. The pasta burns my tongue and I sip on my lemon tea. Too sweet. "Then he just stopped breathing. CPR AED didn't work." It was the first time witnessing the transition from alive to dead. They couldn't resuscitate. We paid the bill and started chitchatting about soccer on the way to the MRT. It was one of eight calls on his 8 hour duty. The food place was way too expensive and I made a mental note to never go back (unless I'm with my parents). Who charges $5 for ice lemon tea? Christ.

There are many duties where I don't get a call the whole 24 hours. If it's a busy day we'll get 3-4. 3-4 for him is a light day. Alpha (ambulance) guys really get it the hardest.

If you know someone who has a similar job, just listen to what they have to say. It's not easy for everyone to transition from seeing a broken family outside a unit containing a dead body to eating breakfast with their fam at their favourite prata house while being all happy smiley. We all get desensitised to death and risking everything but desensitisation doesn't mean it doesn't take a mental toll on our minds and well-being. We don't admit it because it's not garang, but everyone needs to get their thoughts off their chest every once in a while. You can help them by lending a ear (or a hug)."

via: https://www.reddit.com/r/singapore/comments/4iexp5/a_rant_on_national_service_from_an_nsf/