Mandai 51 km. Thunder rumbles in the distance. I cycle in search of grass and clear skies. In a park, I cycle on a slope so steep, my pedal hits the side as I cycle along the contour.
Along the road, I see that it has rained. It is misty. Rays from the setting sun filter through the trees. It is red. It is beautiful.
But pain and suffering is nearby. I have close calls with pedestrians crossing the road without looking, a motorcyclist who bullies me the way drivers bully him, and close call with a car and a bus.
Coming closer than people are dogs. As I turn into the road where they used to hangout, I hope they are gone. I peer under the parked lorries and in the distance. Even black rubbish bags could be dogs. Suddenly, I see them. I turn back. As I pass a parked lorry, a furry face peeks out. The chase begins. I speed to safety.
Three hour's of training, longer than I'd intended.
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