Cycling is like life. Cycling with no goal is meaningless. What meaning is there cycling in circles? Or living aimlessly? Meaning comes from direction and destination. Join me in my life's journey on a mountain bike :)

Blogging since 2003. Thank you for reading :))

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Misery is free (in the short run)

Aug distance: 196 km

Tampines, 22 km. Last Sunday, I ran my first half marathon. It's the furthest I've run in my life. Physiological pain follows. That's bearable compared to psychological pain. Sadness is when you need to cry, but tears do not come. When you need to sleep, but lie awake waiting for day break. When you need cycletherapy, but the rain falls. For the first time in my life, I leave home while the rain falls. After checking the weather "nowcast" and making a gamble though the forecast is gloom. I win the gamble. While grey clouds are all over, there are gaps where the sun shines through. Though tears do not wet my eyes, at least I have eyes. Though sleep does not come, at least I have a comfy bed. Though the rain falls, at least I get to cycle. Misery is free. It would've been so easy to stay home and wallow. Lifting yourself out of a funk is costly in the short run but in the long run it may cost less than staying miserable.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Race against the rain

Admiralty Road West, 55 km. I amble on a gamble that it will not rain. I even (unusually) stop for lunch during instead of at the end of the ride. As I cycle home, for a moment, the road is clear. I admire how the trees arch over the road on either side, forming a green canopy. It looks misty in the distance. Then I realise the "mist" is rain that is coming closer. In moments, instead of the sun beating down, it is rain pelting down. I (unusually) stop at a bus stop instead of cursing my way on. Traffic roars and ants crawl past. Some of them look like spiders, with fat bulbous bodies. I marvel how the rain drops remain on my the surface of my new shoes instead of soaking in (this is the first time they are going offroad; they ride well). Within half an hour, the rain peters out. I lose the race against the rain this time, but the loss is not great. Sometimes, things aren't that bad even when they aren't what you expect.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Shut the door

Changi, 64 km. I buckle my shoe. And shut the door. I'm sorry it turned out this way. I tried so hard to keep you going. Just as you kept me going, for every race. And every expedition so far, three times along the length of West Malaysia, in Indonesia, in Thailand and Laos. You were fuss free. Did I take you for granted? After 2007, I saw the cracks. How I tended to you. But the special care was too little, too late. Something happened to you on the inside. You weren't the same anymore. I wish it wasn't so. But since you broke away, what else can I do? I still think about you. You look better and I feel more comfortable with you. But your replacement performs better; I get at least another 2 km/h with her. Remember, you gave up first. So the new pair, with fibre glass, clads my feet, while you lie in the box that you came in. So long. Thanks for the memories.

Sunday, August 03, 2008

Replenishment


Admiralty Road West, 55 km. I haul myself out of bed. Usually, a tablespoon of oats is enough to keep me going for my Sunday ride. But not today. I realise my glycogen levels have depleted because of a Friday 1.5 hour run and a Saturday hike plus 1 hour run. Today, I scatter gravel and relish the traction as I pedal round twists and turns, then gorge on nasi bryani to top up my energy. I pass my bike doctor's shop and finds it shuttered. It has moved again, to a third location within six years, this time even further from my home. Policy shifts, people move and places move, which cause mental stress. My response is to move my body three days in a row, which cause physical stress. My body adapts so my mind will too. And just as my body needs rest, my mind needs to take a break too.