Bukit Timah, 71 km. Three roadies overtake me. I decide to keep up. One of them says: "You're pedaling too hard, get skinny tyres."
While waiting in a park for the ride to start, I see a lady walk two dogs towards parked bikes. "Don't piss on my bike!" I yell. The dog pisses on another bicycle while the lady smiles sheepishly.
During the ride at Tampines trail, a girl crashes. She sits down, puts band-aid on one of several cuts, then asks: "Does anyone have chocolate? I think I'm going into shock." Later on, I see her cycling on the trail. The trail, the mud, the tree roots - everyone has to face them. A few hate it. Others choose to go a second round. Same physical setting, different attitude, different internal conversation, different results.
During lunch at Bukit Timah, some cyclists talk about cycling at 6.20 am (which means they get up earlier to breakfast, dress and ride to the start point). They say: "You think that's early? Some people cycle at 4 or 5." I say: "I cycle at 4 or 5 too, but that's pm not am."
Back home, I struggle to remove one of my shoes. I rip off the velcro straps, but the ankle deep mud has dried up and messed up my micro-adjust buckle. I pour water on it from various angles as if it is severely dehydrated before it releases. Hilarious ...