Happy anniversary

Jun distance travelled: 207 km

To Changi Village, 62 km. In Jun, four years ago, over 40 police cadet corp officers and some volunteers lead school kids on a Charity Cyclethon around Singapore. That was an eventful 120 km ride. There is excitement at tonight's anniversary ride too: one driver cuts across two lanes in front of me to turn left. Another driver shoots out in front of a cyclist, who falls and bleeds after emergency braking. Riding at East Coast (the start point) is scary too: cyclists who wear black and ride with no lights in the night, pedestrians who block the cycling path and roller-bladers who suddenly stop and u-turn against traffic flow. There are no other mishaps as seven of us ride to Changi Village to eat. Much has changed in the intervening years; some are completing national service or have changed jobs. One wins the women's open championship at Adventure Singapore this year; credit for tonight's ride is hers.

Morning glory

To Bukit Timah Road, 48 km. I see some offroad and follow it, not knowing where it goes. Birds flit from the road to the tree branches two storeys up high. Morning glory flowers line part of the way, which ends in a fenced-up, abandoned quarry. I linger a bit. This must have been a busy place a long time ago. There's a bridge (which now leads nowhere) over a railway track. On the way to lunch, something hits my helmet and then my shoulder. There is a stinging pain I see something on it. I reach out in trepidation to brush away what I think is a brown biting thing with many legs but it is gone. It leaves two punctures. It must have hit a nerve. It might've been a falling twig hitting me at around 28 km/h. Blood seeps through my jersey. I lunch with a friend whom I've not met since Oct - someone rebel in character but noble in spirit.

Nightmare scenarios

To Bukit Timah Road, 43 km. I dream I'm rushing around campus as I can't find my exam hall. No one can tell me where to go. The clock is ticking. After a dream like that, I leave dreamland and go cycling. I duck into a side road off Woodlands. It leads to a cemetary. The bottom has fallen off a tomb built into a slope (ground subsidence?). I don't stop to peek in. As I cycle on, I have a premonition: this is dog country. It is. Mad barking breaks out. A cyclist's nightmare: dogs behind and a slope in front. I ride up the pitted, stony road. The dogs stop 50 m away; maybe they have a cold too. The road comes to a dead end. There is an overgrown footpath (snakes?) that doesn't seem to lead anywhere. The sky rumbles. I can't stay here, I can't go forward and the only way out is past the dogs. I peer at the road, note the wind direction then rattle past at 32 km/h. I don't hear or see the dogs. I keep up the pressure in case they're ahead, but the coast is clear. To celebrate, I blast past a pair of long legs on a Conalgo.

Near-death x2

To Turf City, 54 km. For the past two weekends, I've been laying out my cycling togs in the night - and keeping them in the morning. That was all the exercise I got. This weekend is different. I get my bicycle out the door. The excitement today more than makes up for what I've missed. A bus driver and a taxi driver are so excited to see me, they want to embrace me. Near-death #1: a car pulls out from the roadside. The driver is oblivious to what she almost did, not looking at me even after I yell. Near-death #2: I push my bicycle up a 2-storey hill. A black, 1 m long snake slithers beside me, crosses my path then dives into the undergrowth. I make my way past a clump of ferns, with barely 30 cm space between the ferns and a 2-storey roll downhill. Further ahead, the ground is water-logged. Though there's sign of landslip, the ground holds firm beneath me. Which is just as well. Today is my first outing with my new digital camera.

Urban offroad

May distance travelled: 179 km

To Bukit Chandu, 46 km. I meet some friends on top of a hill for a picnic. I'm the only one on a bicycle; the rest are pedestrians. Of course, no one wants my cycling grub. On my way home, I pass a wide open space beside Alexandra Hospital (a historical hospital with lots of character and the site of a World War 2 massacre). I explore the open space (exit hospital via the mortuary, you know what I mean) which is the size of several football fields. Besides an abandoned road, there's grass and little knolls. I have the whole place to myself - almost. I stop to marvel at some people using ropes to climb five storeys up a tree. All these, beside a busy road and a hospital. It is shady and quiet. Amidst the busyness and sufferings of life, sometimes there're pockets of peace if you look aside and pause.

Could've, would've, should've

To Changi Beach Park, 67 km. I could've been cycling in Malaysia today. I would've accepted the invitation but after an internal struggle I decline. Otherwise, I would've been telling myself: "I should've listened to my body". With the coming work week the way it is, going would've been asking for trouble. So I cycle on this little island. I feel a tad tired just going up the slopes of Tampines and Loyang. I guess having a cold leads to a cold engine. Not that the dog under a lorry cared. It shoots out, locking on like a heat-seeking missle. From my peripheral vision, I see the mutt closing in. Too late to flip flop and turn back. To hesitate now may mean me flopping on the ground with my throat torn out. I keep my eyes on the track, looking out for ruts, gravel and loose sand. I break away almost languidly. Practice makes perfect getaway. Since I can't go back the same way I come in, I sink 3 cm into mud as I find another way out.

Cut throat

To Marina South, 44 km. Now, there's a remote possibility that your throat is cut, by kite string, if you visit Marina South. It is has wide open spaces and filled with green. In future, there is a distinct probability that your throat will be cut, as the place will have become a casino where the odds are against you. I enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts. It rains. Make hay while the sun shines. Wash bicycle when the sun doesn't shine, and that's what I do.

Running and rolling

To Mandai Road, 22 km. My fat tyres are squishy, having been unpumped for weeks. They're almost as squishy as my running nose. To get my nose dried in the wind (evaporation!), I roll out my bicycle. I intend it to be a slow ride. The intent disappears minutes later, when a roadie with aerobars shoots past me. I shift gear almost as fast as my hormones and before I know it, my wheels are rolling at 39 km/h. The roadie and I throttle back before the traffic lights. He's on an errand - to Jurong ... My mission, besides drying out my nose, is to cycle away the calories from the high-sugar cough drops I've been sucking so my coughing doesn't disturb my co-workers so much. Yes, I know. I'm a sucker at work.

Vicissitudes of life

Apr distance: 212 km

To Woodlands Street 13, 60 km. The sun beats down so hard, I sprinkle water on myself before heading out. A white man on a bicycle with rigid fork and rear suspension overtakes me, sweat pouring from his face. We play "leap frog" on the road at 36 km/h, he on slicks, I on fat tyres. We part ways at a fork in the road. I find a pretty park in Woodlands and linger there before heading home. The rain beats down soon after. So, it shines in the morning and rains in the afternoon. To rail at the weather is a waste of time. Maybe I should rail less at life too; just as I prepare for wet weather on the road, I should expect rain at work.

Space and time

To Lim Chu Kang Road, 66 km. Life is not just about atoms and molecules. Matter can be there, but lifeless (as is the case with roadkill). Living takes place in space and time. It's strange how I want to get out of my home but hours later, want to be home. I rush home so I won't get wet in the rain, yet am glad to be get wet in a shower. To be home is to be in the same space but different time. To be in a shower is to be in a different space, different time. Ultimately, life is about time, for it takes time to transcend space. It takes time to do things. It takes time to live a life. And a "good" life is about how time is spent.