Lim Chu Kang, 77 km. Last week, I didn't cycle; still reeling. It takes energy to recover. Today, as some friends take a slow boat to an distant Indonesian island, I continue my feeble preparations to say goodbye to an era. Then, it's time for cycletherapy.
Saturday is a working day for some. There's heavy traffic. Heavy vehicles whizz by. After a Y junction, I look behind me to see if it's safe to filter right to left . Two vans filter from left to right behind me. An overtaking car, going against traffic flow, heads right at me. A van overtakes me and cuts into my lane. A dog runs out in attack mode.
"Stop! Stop! Stop!" I yell and it hesitates. But not the mangy cur across the road, which shoots across the road towards me. I hear its heavy panting and crank it up to leave it behind. If only it is as easy to leave behind the things at the back of my mind.
It starts to drizzle. This is after a scorcher of an afternoon at 34 degrees Celsius.
As it turns out, this is the end, not the start, of watery misery. When I near home, I find the worst of the rain is over. My heavy heart is a little lighter.
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