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, September 26, 2010

Seeing red

Sep distance: 482 km

Lim Chu Kang, 73 km. A "red belt" is not what I wear, it is what I am in when one traffic light after another is red against me. This really scrubs my average speed, because I slow down gradually and have to pick up speed again.

I cycle one of the hilliest routes I can find on this little island. I shouldn't even call them hills; that would be making hills out of molehills. They are slopes. Without a heart rate monitor, I  monitor my breathing instead. I ride a tad below gasping level. The only time I stop is at traffic lights, to catch my breathe. 

At a Y junction, as I go straight, a red car cuts across my path within spitting distance to squeeze into the side road. "Bully!" The wind shreds my protest. I hope the passenger has seen enough to fear for her life in the hands of the driver. At another junction, I inhale sharply when I see a driver with a phone glued to her ear. I let her move off first. Better to trail in her wake than for me never to wake up ...

After cycling two hours, thoughts of ice cold Coke appears in my mind. I keep going. This is serious training, in the early afternoon, to prepare me for a multi-stage charity ride in Sarawak next month. Better get used to it boy! So, ice cold black liquid with brown froth in a red can, is only in my mind. As for the red belt, perhaps I imagine it too. Perhaps the number of red lights I come across today is about the same as before, just that with two red lights in a row, I pay more attention to  red lights today compared to past rides. What you pay more attention to, is what happens more often?

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Lame excuse

Woodlands, 48 km. My foot. It's hurt for about a week. Since last weekend, when I ran 21 km. Having run a half-marathon once a year for three consecutive years, this year's run is the most painful yet. The past years were a breeze. Which is why I signed up for this year's. It's a walk in the park, right? No, because of the "after-effects". Still, it's nice to know that in the last 10 km, I overtook over 1,100 runners. What I don't is, will I be able to cycle today? After all, I'd have to unclip and put my foot down at traffic lights. And would my foot seize up? Still, no lame excuse not to cycle today; I've signed up for a 800 km charity ride next month :o Though my foot tends to hurt with every step (especially the first few steps), cycling isn't that bad. Perhaps it's because most of my weight is on the saddle.

Rather than risk having a sore foot and stranded somewhere, I do a short ride though, at the charity ride briefing, group leader says "no 50 km rides, that's not enough". I chase a roadie today and ride close to my lactate threshold a lot of the time.

Tip: to know whether I'm at lactate threshold, I listen to my breathing. If I gasp like a goldfish out of water, that's supposedly the threshold. I also pedal better, consciously pulling up one leg as the other one pushes down.

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

The toughest, the highest

Sat 4 Sep - Sun 5 Sep

Kota Tinggi to Kuala Rompin to Kota Tinggi, Johore, Malaysia 361 km.

Different cyclists, same results
Day 1, Sat 4 Sep, Kota Tinggi to Kuala Rompin. The rule is, at the start, start slow. Let those who want to go fast, go. Time and again, the rule has proved to be immmutable - especially if you know the lead cyclists. Full carbon road bicycles vs aluminium mountain bike. I've barely five hours of sleep. And I cycle to the start point.

"But this time it's different," I tell myself. I don't know the lead riders, maybe I can keep up. And I do. For a while. Then, I drop back like a kite with a cut string. I end up cycling alone. The support crew drive by to check on me once in a while, to see if I'm alive or a zombie. To help me save calories, one of them, from sponsor Equinix, even tops up my water bottle and peels bananas for me. From what he tells me, I gather I'm in the 40-50th percentile. I'm fast, but not as fast Father Time, who's fast catching up with me. To keep up with the young triathletes on tri-bikes, I rest less frequently - just a few minutes at water points and I'm off.

This Charity Bike & Blade (the 5th in the series) is mind-numbing. It used to be just to Mersing, with one long stretch of rolling hills. Now, there's those hills, plus those at Endau. It take too much energy to even play songs in my head. So I just aim for the crest of each hill and focus on my form, including my breathing. That's living in the moment. No more music in the head, that's too tiring.

One breath at a time
Day 2, Sun 5 Sep, Kuala Rompin to Kota Tinggi. It rains heavily at night. The road is wet, the rooster tail of water sprays from wheels, whirring and humming. Cycling at 16 km/h at the start to warm up is too slow for me. I do my usual 20 km/h warm up then crank it up to 25 km/h. The roadies catch up. Unlike yesterday, this time, I don’t chase. Until someone in white shorts comes along at 32 km/h. We take turns to draft each other.

As cyclists pass, I see compression leggings, aero-bars, high-end full carbon bicycles. Shorts are in different colours, but we wear identical white Uvex helmets and lilac jerseys - the official colour of St Luke’s Eldercare. There are 98 or so cyclists, we raise about $360,000 for charity, the highest ever.

Unlike in the initial 3 years of Bike n Blade, where there were more people on mountain bikes, the numbers dwindle in the subsequent two years. This year, there are only 2 mountain bikes. My small wheels and small crank churn to keep up. At one point, I end up pulling a peloton along as no one wants to take the lead. I soon end up cycling solo; spent after pulling people along and I can’t keep up thereafter. What a difference a few km/h makes.

Few people stop to eat, except for lunch. This is a high performance crowd, stops are only at support vehicles - especially the 100-Plus truck that comes with ice-box. someone asks if he can have a few cans to put on his burning butt.

This year’s Bike n Blade is toughest. Besides the rolling hills to Mersing, there's the Endau hills. My heart falls when I am at a crest and see a series of rolling hills ahead. As I cycle, I think of Laos - if I can make it up those 1,500m mountains, i can make it here. Near the end, I think of my marathon run. If i can finish that, i can finish this.

I see road kill, grotesque in death. If it’s too mangled, I look away. Otherwise, I identify it - to keep my mind off the ride. There are snakes, cats, dogs. Sometimes, birds peck away at scraps on the road. If the road kill is fresh, I hold my breath. I also see hills, denuded of oil palm, with trails snaking up. How I want to ride there instead of on the road.

I hurry to catch the 3pm bus ride back to Singapore. Bicycles are gingerly placed in luggage compartments or on passenger seats, with cling-wrap or bubble wrap. When we disembark, I choose to cycle home, the same way I start the ride.

Tips: when tired, moaning doesn't make the climbs easier. Instead, focus on form, live in the present - how to pedal, how to breathe. All that's needed is to cycle up this crest, and the next, one at a time. Break time up into 15 minute chunks, with a sip of drink as a treat. Don't have to last hours, just last 15 minutes, and the next, one chunk at a time.