Choa Chu Kang, 48 km. I wear my Dainese jersey, which I won last week, for the first time. I'm think what good tyres I have; they roll over broken glass and stones with no fuss. As I corner, my wheel wobbles. Blowout. I apportion blame before the fact is out: a 4 cm nail. No tyre can take that. And no one should shoot first, ask questions later. I look at the bright side: a patch of shade so big, I fix the flat with no sweat. A roadie passing by who asks if I'm ok. And, later on, a road all to myself, as butterflies flit by. Just because bad things have happened earlier doesn't make the lunar new year a lunatic new year. But deep down, I still feel sad.
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