Dog tired

To West Coast Highway, 103 km. You know how it is with dogs, they chase cyclists, get tired and slow to a trot, until the next peloton passes by, and the chase starts again. And that's how it is with me. The first Thomson peloton blasts past. I don't even bother to chase. Wave no. 2 draws nearer. I ready myself, then catapult into the slipstream as nuclear-powered SY waves at me. A jam at the Kranji dam separates us. I struggle ahead and hang on at 42 km/h behind two girls including SY, but soon drop behind (hence the expression "separating the man from the girls"). Wave no. 3 passes next and I draft at a more humane 38 km/h. We stop at Lim Chu Kang to wait for the rest. Soon, we are eight again. N leads me to a West Coast hawker centre, which is my first time there. I have, for the first time ever, a kuay teow goreng and a Horlicks dinosaur. Bleah. Today is also the first time I pump my tyres to 110 psi (10% more than recommended). It's easier to ride, but not enough to catch more roadies.

Smiling speedster

To Lim Chu Kang, 67 km. My legs pump rapidly like pistons. My heart pumps like they would burst. My lungs scream for air. The average speed for this ride, uphill and downhill, is ove 28 km/h. And HCK sails past me, smiling like Mona Lisa and once, even chatting on the phone before sailing away from me. She's a smiling speedster, with a titanium Soul. Her friends call her "slave driver". There's another mountain biker besides me in the group of nine. He looks like a schoolboy. He's fast on his track shoes, fast enough for the roadies to talk about him. He slows down only when he bumps my rear wheel and crashes. This has never happened to me before. His bicycle ends up in the next lane. Fortunately, no car runs over his unusual machine. Or over him. He has a bad case of road rash.

Swept away

To Mandai, 71 km. Today's bike leader is HCK. She decides to take the rear. As I lead, a shaft of sunlight breaks through the trees. It's majestic, clear and I can take it at face value. Unlike the ritual of "we're riding slowly today", which became "look, we're in front, how did that happen". And soon, they are out of hailing range. What a fine turn of events. I'm in the ride, wanting to help out as a sweeper. As it turns out, I am a sweeper but not by choice, as the guy roadies and nuclear-powered SY drop me. I have my revenge on some other roadies on the return leg, as I drop them. Heh heh. At one stop to regroup, HCK tries out my little Tank; she's privileged to be the first gal to ride it. During lunch, O tells me about one of his accidents. He didn't just break bone, he lost some of it, through infection. I've never seen a finger tip without bone before.

Nuclear-powered vs kerosene-powered

Jan distance: 498 km

To Tampines and Woodlands, 101 km. "She likes to ride at 30-35 km/h", says N of "nuclear-powered" SY. Well, that's to warm up. SY hits 41 km/h and chats at the same time. When I (being "kerosene-powered") moan, she still cycles at 41 km/h - uphill. Watching her stand on her pedals makes my knees go weak. But she isn't always in the lead; the group of nine is split into four in front including me and five in the rear. As the day wears on, riders start to drop out. It's just the three of us for lunch, but I'm glad for that. If it wasn't for cycling and cyclists, I might have lost my marbles. Or maybe I already have. I cycle a few rounds around the carpark so I can round off today's ride past 100 km.

Bike paradise

To Tampines and Kaki Bukit Road, 71 km. Today, the eve of Chinese New Year, sees many bikers on the road. In fact, there are two groups at the start point. I happen to know some of them, and meet HCK for the first time (though we've emailed each other before). I reluctantly join the slower group, as the faster group zooms off quickly without asking me to tag along. But it turns out to be serendipity, as N leads me to the spiffiest bikeshop ever; it's so spick and span, we have to remove our shoes to enter. The shop is carpeted, airconditioned and stocked chock a block, from floor to ceiling. Bikes, frames, parts and accessories - even 1.20" tyres, which I never knew existed. And I did get a good workout as I charged up hills. The sight of the goodies in the bikeshop got my heart racing too.

Black death

To Lim Chu Kang Road, 94 km. The black car passes so fast, so close to the three of us, I feel fear only after it clears the rider in front. The driver must've been unaware, or couldn't care less, as he overtakes us on the right to turn left. One decision in a moment in time may have far reaching consequences in the future. And it was someone's decision like that, made a few years back, that kept me working late into the night, night after night. The highlight of this week is today's ride, my first with BBB. I get to touch her sleek Lightspeed. After 30 or so km, she turns for home. I cycle on, hoping my fretting will blow away in the wind. But they don't. Instead, when I get home, I compile a to-do list. At least, I have people to delegate this to. So, this is how Monday morning blues are born.

Winning number

To Mount Faber, 57 km. It's the first time I've body marking. The number: 103, which sounds like "surely third" in Cantonese. If I'm superstitious, it means I'm condemned to being third each time there's a podium finish, like in past races. Regardless whether it's an individual or team event or how many people take part. But superstitious I'm not. Today, the curse is broken. At Togopart's "King of the Mountain" time trial, I'm joint second at 4 min 10 sec, 7 sec behind the champ, a student (and 40 sec ahead of third place). It looks like I'm the oldest on the podium. And a crowded podium it was. The "queen" of the mountain is the sole roadie, who is so fast that the stopwatches don't stop in time. I could've done better. I got my gearing wrong. Lost air warning some pedestrians. I could've pushed myself harder at the end. But I could've been stuck behind a tour bus disgorging tourists. Or be third instead of second. The first time I did this (on a shorter route, on 16 Oct 05), I lost second place by one second. So, this is what it's like to be walking on air. This win is dedicated to my "coach" and friend, N. As a reward for the good performance, I see bikeshop man who saws off a few grams from my steerer tube.

Photo courtesy of Sehsuan

Stuck up

To Old Upper Thomson Road, 20 km. It's supposed to be a recovery ride but I can't resist charging uphill. Back home, I clean and lube my drive train. The lube sticks to the container and when it comes out, it does so in globs. It's as stuck up as the roadie I met on the road.

Return of the sun

To Mandai Road, 33 km. The sun shines today. That's news. On prime time TV. But the heat is not just out there. There's heat in the office too, that keeps me back till the sun is down. I hit the road, doing sprints to prepare for this Sunday's time trial up Mount Faber (postponed from last Sunday, no thanks to rain). Go 100%, my "coach" N says by SMS when I seek her advice. I don't have a heart rate monitor, but I cycle so hard I don't dare to stand on my pedals, lest I keel over.

Water, water everywhere

To Jalan Chengam, 17 km. We're about three-quarters water, but there's such a thing as too much of a good thing. We have water inside us, but water on us is something else. It's been pouring, raining and drizzling for the past few days, including all day on Sunday and today, a public holiday. Today, it rains the moment I put on my cycling wear. It is about five hours later that I sneak out. The road is wet and droplets still fall from the sky and spray me from the road, but I've to cycle. I charge up slopes in the area for an intense ride. It's not the endorphins that make me feel better. It's being on a , to be free. The ride is marred by three close calls in 17 km. Singapore drivers ... compare that with no close calls in 1,000 km in Malaysia.