In search of

Goldhill Avenue, 43 km. Last night was my first-ever two-hour run. Today, I seek out hills at Andrew, Olive, Dyson and Mount Pleasant roads. This is an area with much money and woods. Somehow, I don't feel tired cycling up hills today despite yesterday's feat of two hours of feet pounding the road. Mind and body adjust. That is experience. When life is normal, one seeks extremes to gain breakthrough experience, like riding in Laos. When life is extreme, like that of a refugee or fugitive, extreme experience is par for the course. As I ride in the darkness, I wonder if I will come across the shadowy figure of Mas Selamat, who escaped days ago from a detention centre at Whitley Road - a centre which I see not. As I cycle, I see a police Land Rover filled with people in camouflage uniform.