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 :)

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Friday, November 05, 2010

Mismatch meets match

Woodlands, 50 km. For the first time, I’ve mixed tyres. All my life, tyres are the same; if one is 1.25”, the other is 1.25”. Today, I have 1.95” semi slicks in front and 2.1” knobbies in the rear. That’s another first; the fattest tyre I’ve used before today was 1.95”. Riding a 2.1” is like riding on a fat cushion of air. Nice. Sometimes I ride over stuff on the road just for fun. I can feel - and hear - the buzz of the knobbies as chemical energy becomes mechanical energy becomes sound. Today, I count the slopes on the route: 25. Slopes they are, I wouldn’t call them hills; that’d be making hills out of molehills. Well, most of them anyway. As I ride up the steepest road, a worker carrying shopping bags stops and stares, then cheers me on. As I reach the top and ride down, he offers me some of his groceries. I smile and wish him “subah Diwali”.

After cycling over two hours, I get home, brew a cup of tea, and start pounding the road. I just want to see what happens when I do my own dualthon. My legs protest. It feels like I feel some way into a half marathon. As I go on, the ache goes away. 

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