Labu - Sendayan

Pix courtesy of Doc

Just after a week of pushing another marathon envelope, I gave another nudge with my cycling milage. In the first week post marathon, I was already contemplating to sign up for another round of 42km. The idea just floats in the soffit of my head for days. Though it seems doable but lots more facts and figures that I have to gauge. Perhaps it will be just another stroll down the 12 weeks training path. But should I or could I do it? We'll see how it goes.

However, weekend comes and weekend goes. I won't take the slightest chance of loosing it. There's no better way to end the zero-run-week with something other than running. Am I confusing myself or what? Never mind. I don't have the slightest idea of my recovery status from the marathon but the adrenaline rush permits to commit for a 138km cranking Sunday. Why Sunday? Because the awesomely organised ride by fellow Pedalphiles Cycling Club (PCC) only rides on Sunday.

138km is no joke - well at least for me. Though I have 101km past two weeks up in the saddle, the extra 37km means agony. Which sums up to about 5 hours 11 minutes of sore butt and wimpy legs - less 10 minutes than my PW in ENR. Hah! But nothing come close to the great feeling of arriving in Port Dickson watching the shoreline infront of the power station. It was unbelievable but trust me, the ride back was neither boring.

What's ahead will still come head on. What is laid behind the lunch counter must be tackled first. I had an awesome lunch. White rice, ikan keli sambal and kuah lomak cili api. Pergh! It's refuel time. I just had to make sure it's clearly defined. Phew.

The 50 over enthusiasts and spirited cyclists made our way back in the late morning sun. All scattered into smaller groups. Some even decided to stop by an air kelapa muda stall. What was a rolling stretch of tar and grime from Port Dickson to Sendayan, now turned merciless. Clock struck 1.00 p.m. We pedalled on. Another rolling stretch from Sendayan to Sepang through Gadong Jaya and Labu was slightly forgiving from the shading rubber trees. We cranked on. From the busy street of Sepang small town to the ferocious climb up to De Palma Hotel had me. I was forced to abandon it halfway and continued to the crest, walking. That was scary. I almost heard the calve muscles screaming.

20km to go. 20 dreaded burning kilometres. And I have to make it back to Bandar Baru Bangi before 3.00p.m. Clumsy me, I bought tickets to the How to Train a Dragon at 3.40 p.m. The last push was an ordeal. The timeline aided my deteriorating spin. More cyclists coming in towards the carpark. Some earlier arrivals even clap their hands in support sharing the share of pain. The pain, exhaustion and fatigues were pushed aside just to make way for me to arrive home in time. However, a short brief reminder from wifey asked me to doublecheck the showtime. It was actually at 5.40 p.m. la dude. Double Phew! Hahaha. That equals to an hour of solid nap.