Kayuhan Malam Ke-3 ed-Mubarak

Terasa nak berbahasa Melayu hari ni. Otak malas nak digest vocabs dan hanya mampu mengalirkan cetusan-cetusan idea dalam separuh sedar hasil dari kayuhan malam tadi. Aku kurang tidur sebab pagi Sabtu macam biasa jadi drebar ke tuition & Kumon. Tambah lagi dengan kayuhan hentakan sejauh 57km yang menyerlahkan Geng 606 Lebuhraya :D

Untuk kali ketiga, ramai kawan-kawan yang mula ketagihan kayuhan Jumaat malam. Tersangat mudah dengan adanya FB untuk invite kawan-kawan & dengan adanya jaringan kawanan yang semakin meningkat walaupun di luar dunia FB, kami dapat berkumpul dalam satu peloton yang besar. Aku cukup kagum bila dapat menyaksikan segerombolan kawan-kawan cyclists dengan kayuhan-kayuhan yang semakin tegar. Aku hampir teruja bila buat head count di salah satu regrouping & mendapati kita ada 18 orang! Pergh!

Maybe untuk rekod kehadiran, kita ada the usual suspects Deti, Yim, Ziff, Shuk, Hancik, Zakuan, Bahri, Jaja, Nik Raiha, Rozaimi, Azmar, Shah & member dia. Yang first time join Fairul and Ketua Reban CAR. Welcome guys. Dan yang menampilkan rekod lama dalam pesada sukan tri ialah Azwar & member dia. Itu je kot. Kalau aku tertinggal nama, sori beb. Mata masih mengantuk :)

We tried to start early sebab consider fellow moms yang kena balik awal ke pangkuan suami & anak bagi menyediakan juadah bersahur pulak. Tapi terlebih 5 minit jugak bila ada yang masih terkial-kial bersiap. Takpe la, janji enjoy. Dapat jugak berjumpa dengan fellow RBU yang plan untuk buat LSD the same time. Kita ada hardcore runners malam tu seperti Syah, Crushio, Irwan, Che & Ijam. Too bad aku tak dapat sembang lama sebab kayuhan pun dah hampir nak bermula.

Route pilihan masih sama seperti minggu lepas cuma ada tambahan sikit 10km di penghujung laluan. Oh! Just nak record, sebagai persediaan aku untuk menceburi dunia sukan triathlon (chewah!), dan jugak simulasi untuk ke Seri Manjung, aku mencuba beberapa gadget & taktik baru  malam tadi. First sekali, ni kali kedua aku kayuh dengan memakai tri-short. Padding memang nipis dari the usual cycling pants tapi cukup untuk membuat pergerakan sewaktu berlari selesa sikit. Actually race yang lepas-lepas aku bedal je pakai cycling short yang ber-padded tebal tu cuma lately ni aku rasa macam rimas pulak. First time aku pakai tri-short masa first kayuhan Ramdhan. Baru kayuh 10 minit, aku dah mula rasa kurang selesa dan kejap-kejap berdiri atas basikal untuk memperbetulkan posisi, mencari tempat berlabuh yang lebih sedap. Malam tadi, aku nekad sebab base pada kayuhan atas trainer dua hari sebelum, punggung ku dah mula sesuai dengan keadaan. So far kayuhan hampir 2 jam setengah malam tadi, punggung ku tak meracau.

Second gadget, aku pakai tri cycling shoes. Dengan harga mampu milik dari ebay, aku dapat beli brand favourite Adidas. Memang Adidas jarang-jarang jumpa buat product cycling ni tapi cinta pandang pertama di skrin PC telah membuat kan hidup ku huru-hara sementara menanti pakej sampai dari Canada. Bukannya kasut Shimano aku tu dah kaput tapi dengan ada extra bajet, bagus jugak aku selang seli guna. Aku ni susah sikit nak cari kasut, tambah lagi dengan pasaran di tanahair kita ni yang agak mengarut dengan pilihan yang sangat terhad. Kayuh dengan Adidas tanpa stokin. Pergh! Nampak macam bagus tapi masih belum bagus. Beberapa geng sudah usya & mula melaungkan pujian dengan ke-handsome-man kasut aku - padding seluar alih-alih terasa tebal pulak. Hahaha! Di akhir kayuhan, aku merasa sangat selesa dan berpuas hati dengan performance kasut ku.

OK. Berbalik pada kayuhan malam. Aku tidak berhasrat untuk sama-sama beraksi dengan Geng 606 seperti yang telah aku buat minggu sebelum. Aku terasa tidak mampu untuk menduga kekuatan badan ku memandangkan bulan puasa ni recovery agak lambat. Aku cuba untuk take it easy dan menempatkan diri di bahagian belakang pada setiap masa. Akan tetapi, ada juga saat-saat keghairahan yang sukar dibendung menyebabkan aku terjebak dengan aksi tarik menarik menduga tahap LT seberapa lama yang mungkin. Buat masa-masa yang lain, aku cuma buat recovery ride.

Kayuhan kami rata-rata menunjukkan ciri-ciri kematangan. Dengan jarak yang lebih berbanding minggu lalu, kami agak berpuas hati kerana masa yang diambil agak singkat. Dengan kurangnya lokasi berkumpul dan masa menunggu untuk regrouping, kualiti kayuhan telah diperbaiki.

Lebih kurang jam 1.00 pagi, kayuhan ditamatkan sebaik tiba semula di PoJ. Persediaan kami untuk sambung dengan larian terhenti seketika apabila beberapa pegawai PJH memaklumkan bahawa kami tidak dibenarkan meletak kenderaan di atas siar kaki. Untuk masa akan datang, kami hanya dibenarkan menggunakan bahu jalan untuk meletak kenderaan.

Larian tetap diteruskan setelah reda ribut salah parking. Menu tidak menduga awan, cuma setakat menurut kemampuan kaki yang telah beraksi hampir dua jam setengah di atas basikal. Kami telah terpecah kepada beberapa kumpulan mengikut pace masing-masing. Sekali lagi, aku telah menyarungkan kasut Brooks Ravenna tanpa stokin sekadar mencuba. Alhamdullillah so far so good. Yang paling nyata, keputusan aku untuk menyarung vest larian Nike yang aku bawa sangat significant. Dengan tahap humidity yang agak tinggi pada malam tu, vest Nike membantu dalam melegakan badan yang kini berpeluh tahap sauna. 10 minit pertama larian, aku cuma bersaing dan bersembang dengan Azmar. Dia kelihatan agak letih, mungkin hasil dari kayuhan satu malam yang lepas & kurang berehat. Dalam larian pulang menghala ke PoJ semula, aku cuba untuk menambah kelajuan. Saja test water nak tengok kemampuan. Alhamdullillah corak larian aku masih kekal seperti dulu walaupun milage aku di bulan puasa ni sungguh menyedihkan.

Aku masih belum mampu untuk mengorak langkah menambah milage larian. Walaupun minda ini meronta untuk keluar berlari tatkala petang di rumah, sejuta alasan membuatkan hasrat ku terkubur di atas sofa di depan tv. Aku masih berdoa agar stamina larian aku masih ada. Nampak gaya, sebaik Syawal menjelma, aku kena akur dengan jadual latihan yang tertampal indah di dinding bilik.

Road Pileups

Pileup

With the recent Friday night ride completed, it should nicely marked my kick-off for the 12 weeks training towards Seri Manjung. Although my Ramadhan run was completely devastating zero milage, I was thankful that I can still spin the crank without engaging labour stage. That would mean, I still have those tingling stamina hanging around somewhere. The only drive that urged me to wade through the zapping Ramadhan week is only the Friday night ride. TGIF!

Like all mechanical beings, wears and tears are the norms from aging or from extensive usage. I guess my bike falls under both categories. After KL Marathon, I've been hugging the saddle eversince. It was like a long lost love met again. The feeling was indigenous. I've been cranking up the pedals adding milage every weekend. Again, the analogy was to boost the spirit of cycling by having investments. I just sent my bike for servicing and get it's headset bearing replaced. Hopefully the cost wont cost a bomb. I went back to the shopping cart and started listing wanna buy stuff that require replacements and upgrading. Well, I guess these are the setbacks of having to be involved in cycling - the shopping list never last, at least, I've been ignoring it for the last 6 months (nak sedapkan hati). These also means, I will be delaying getting my Dockers and replacing work apparels. Hah!

To perform flawlessly, I need to look sharp. Well that's what I've been told and perhaps the only ideology that can be held for the moment. It turns on the psychology. Bike in perfect condition, apparels for peak performance, legs in the prime, and the list goes on. Lesson learned from the last year's Seri Manjung pitfalls. It was a hard one and I promised myself this year I shall tweak the preparation to the max! - fingers crossed.

From what I've heard and read, long distance duathlon is almost similar to running a marathon. The constant period of pounding and cranking just adds up to the same amount of running for more than 4 hours - torturing. Newcomers might take it in a different perspective considering the cycle part will be treated as recovery leg and cycling seems to be the less impact leg in duathlon. Trust me, you don't want to do that. Besides, I have marathons up my sleeves, what could 11km and 10km runs harm me so bad? The same marathon principles must be grasp - respect the distance! Strong on bike, strong on the run. Ammah! Nasik Wanggey satuk! - post race meal awaiting.

It will be brick, brick and brick from this point onward. Transition, transition, transition...

Rise of the Mamils (middle-aged men in lycra)

OK. A friend of mine, Azahari shared this through the email earlier today. It's an article from BBC. Interesting findings and I just need to put it in record somewhere here considering the time line is approaching for me. Ammah! Pleasure reading guys :)

14 August 2010 Last updated at 00:19 GMT
Rise of the Mamils (middle-aged men in lycra)
By Dominic Casciani

BBC News

Flashy sports cars are out, now no mid-life crisis is complete without a souped-up road bike. Why?

Every weekend, across the nation's rolling countryside, watch out for the Mamils: middle-aged men in lycra.

And ladies, if you have a man at home taking an unusual interest in how you shave your legs, you may have a Mamil in the making too.

Research conducted by the retail analyst Mintel suggests there has been a surge in the number of middle-aged men choosing to get on two wheels.

Given the number of men aged 35-44 who are buying fancy-pants road racing machines, is this a 21st Century mid-life crisis? Has the silence of skinny tyres and carbon fibre framesets replaced the thunderous noise of motorbikes?

Back in the day, when some men with a bit of disposable income reached a certain age, they did some strange things. The grind of the office and home life convinced some that the answer to an expanding midriff lay in a pair of designer jeans and a flashy but cheap Japanese sports car. Teenage daughters ran away screaming. Sons were deprived of the role models seen in adverts for shaving products.

Gents, our womenfolk were right all along. It wasn't a good look. And did it do anything for the beer belly?

The middle-aged cyclist's role model, sprinting legend Mark Cavendish But then came a confluence of coincidences that gave a man an option other than looking like a gigolo cruising Italy's glitzy Lake Como.

The past three years have seen the rise of the uber-techno, super-flashy, full-carbon fibre, bobby-dazzler road bike. The market for these bikes has expanded faster than a 45-year-old's waistline, partly thanks to the success of the British cycling stars at the Beijing Olympics. Marketing departments have produced smart advertising messages that encourage a bit of freedom, elite performance and memories of teenage derring-do.

And the result can be seen on Saturday and Sunday mornings as middle-aged blokes polish the rear derailleur, lower the mirrored shades and pedal into the hills. Every couple of weeks, you'll see a girth of Mamils gathering to race a "Sportive", a form of amateur competing that has taken the British cycling world by storm.

While the serious, younger riders are busy getting into the zone of elite competition, we're comparing the latest GPS route-finding cycle computer and pretending that we know how to stretch.

"No Mamil's life is complete without the spiritual journey to the mountains” - Dominic Casciani

We hit the first hill and suddenly we're a puffing, panting, heaving mass of sweaty humanity that is well past its sell-by-date. Sounds humiliating? I've never had so much fun in my life - and there are also some unintended benefits of being the older rider.

First, there's the no-questions-asked fan club. My kids, on the promise of an ice cream, will cheer me over the top of any climb. They're still young enough to think I'm Superman - and you don't get that kind of pick-me-up on the golf course.

Even better is the Mamil's solution to saddle sores. A teenage shop assistant in a too-posh-to-pedal London shop tried to sell me some balm for £30. What's the point of that, I asked. I've got loads of unused nappy rash cream at home. He thought I was terminally uncool. I know better son, learn from your elders.

Terrified

Robbie McIntosh is 45 and has spent much of the past year clad in lycra after being talked into cycling from Lands End to John O'Groats with a group of fellow Mamils.

Robbie McIntosh on Mont Ventoux - one of the toughest climbs in the world Ten days of pain, rain and groin strain later, he decided he was ready for Mont Ventoux. This mountain, the Giant of Provence, is one of the toughest climbs in the world - 23km straight up. British cycling legend Tom Simpson died on its slopes in 1967. Last month, with terror in his belly, Robbie began turning the wheels.

"I wanted so much to say I'd climbed the Ventoux. It's an amazing mountain and a serious challenge.

"I was surprised at my nerves but I had a sense that if I could do this on a bike I could do anything and that was a feeling I wanted so much."

And make it he did. He wasn't as balletic as the local, young French riders - but he stood alongside them at the 1,910m summit and surveyed the world.

"Cycling has given me an opportunity to feel sporting achievement of the very highest level," says Robbie. "It doesn't matter that the pros ride up Mont Ventoux at twice the speed or more. I can scale the same sporting heights as the best cyclists on the planet. I can walk with giants."

“Flash road bikes definitely look like a midlife crisis”

So a man becomes fitter and happier. Where's the midlife crisis in that? Ah. The costs.

Ladies, look away now. Men who seriously cycle typically spend about £3,000 to live that dream. For a time, at least. That sum will cover the set-up and the first year, then about £1,000 a year, at least, on top of that.

The must-have bike of the summer is the Pinarello Dogma, the bike used by the British Team Sky in the Tour de France. Yours for about £7,000. Grown men stop and stare at this machine, like seven-year-old lads pressed against the toy shop window.

Thankfully, most Mamils don't have that kind of money to burn. But it hasn't stopped the rapid growth of a suburban money-laundering operation. It goes something like this. Man dribbles while looking at £100 bib shorts on cycling website - they're the kind that make you look like a wrestler. Partner says no, think about the starving children. Man continues to look at bib shorts and decides they will help conceal his 36-inch waist.

Ventoux brings some men close to collapse He calculates that three weeks of hard pedalling will help on the belly front - which is coincidentally the same time it takes to receive a secret new credit card to pay for the shorts. Job done. Platinum status achieved with the online cycling retailer. Discounts on more kit, all of which is sent directly to the office rather than home.

When you run the slide rule over all of this, flash road bikes definitely look like a midlife crisis.

There's a look to strive for, expensive kit and excuses for weekends away.

I and my band of hill-climbing brothers disagree. It's about becoming a happier and healthier person rather than sliding towards mediocre oblivion at the bottom of a pint glass.

But I conclude with a message from my own Mrs Mamil to other cycling widows. She's discovered a precise form of retaliation. If your portly husband buys another stupid fluorescent jersey, buy yourself another pair of shoes.

That way, at least one of you can look good.

Our 2010 Ramadhan ride

Only in my dream and in Tour de France

Thursday, Shuk texted me asking whether the Ramadhan Friday night ride is ON or not? Ziff later blogged about it and I was still running around with daily task at work. Then Det and a few Camdek fellows emailed about the same matter. The doubtness escalate when Friday evening it rained cats and dogs jamming most major road in the city. It lasted till the Iftaar hour. I only managed to squeeze in a quick message through Facebook to whoever within my contact. Hopefully they open it which eventually the replies were encouraging. Phew!

Julie was also planning a ride that night but the 10.00 p.m. meeting time was a bit tight for some us attending terawikh. Eventually most of us successfully gathered at Palace of Justice to repeat the annual Ramadhan night ride with a few new riding buddies at 10.30. It will the first group ride for Yimster, Ziff and Nik Raiha. The regular weekend warriors was Det, Nizam, Hancik, Zakuan, Dicky, Jaja, Shuk and Syrim. Arif and Senn arrived later and they joined the ride. We have 14 cyclists when we rolled off from PoJ heading towards PICC planning to do the IM70.3 route which shall cover about 30km.

Weather was perfect at the beginning but turned soggy as we approached Alamanda. However, the rain and dry came and went away as we pedal away into the night. Some enjoying their first Putrajaya outing on two wheels, some still learning to handle the bike, some enjoying the pleasureable torture of the climbs and some just decided to sit back and enjoy the camaraderie.

The night was sweet but not until Hancik and Jaja went missing from the peloton. They took the wrong turn whilst attempting to catch up with the group at one of the climb. We had to miss them after a few unanswered calls and me doubling back for a search with hopes they were fine.

From the miscommunication, the group was split into two. The front group waited too long for us and decided to complete the loop and back to PoJ. The second group with Yim, Ziff, Nizam, Nik Raiha, Syrim and me slowly covering the remaining miles meeting the whole group back again at PoJ.

We spent a bit more time at the stairs infront of PoJ and most of us continued on to the usual mamak at Precinct 9 for hot meals. The initial plan to run after the ride was shelved considering some images of mee goreng and teh tarik were witnessed in the night sky. The night ended somewhere around 3.00 a.m. with still drizzles along the way.

Broga - The Dawn of Ramadhan

Genting Peres

My third attempt. And it always gives me the chills even at the very last moment to roll off. A week of deep thoughts and waiting. The state of being conscious. My last two attempts was a suffering-not-so-pleasure one. With only 64km milage under my belt last week, I was planning for this one to give me a turnaround point. To make it as an achievement. To come back smiling with satisfactions. Did I?

This would the last epic ride and perhaps the last epic entry before Ramdhan, and I will nail this hard to the hard drive. Will render to the tiniest details about this handsome triumph which resulted us craving for more. Ramadhan will be double the effort juggling between fasting, tarawih and kawasan yang sewaktu denganNya.

Eight of us rendezvoused at Sungai Tekala picnic area as early as 7.15 a.m. It was still dark when I left home, driving through the deserted Ulu Langat road which I decided to wait up for Bahri and Saiful at Batu 14 town. The drive up the winding road of Bukit Sungai Tekali is a no-no for me at this wee hour though it was merely minutes away from sunrise. I saw too many wildlife carcass during my previous rides here.

There was Bacin, Saiful, Bahri, Azahari, Hanchik, Adeline, Zakuan, Jeff and me. First attempt for a few of us and the uncoolness look was camo from chit and chats and flying jokes. We rolled of while some stall operators were busy preparing for Sunday picnickers. Our first regrouping would be the peak of Genting Peres. The key word was RESERVE. My plan was to keep glycogen usage at minimal at this early stage. The 9km climb was casual with us separated into two groups - of course I was at the back chatting away with Saiful, Azahari and Adeline. The front pack was racing for King of the Mountain first checkpoint. Zakuan and Jeff were scattered between no man's land.

We came across another group who were training for their French tour. Their menu was to go down to Titi and climb back up again - 2 sets!!! I hope they stayed true to the plan. There were almost 20 of us up the peak at one time and slowly we dispersed down towards Titi single filed. Weather was still cold as we descended but it was refreshing. The 13km nerve wrecking descend was fast, tapping the 58kph on the meter. I tapped the brake once in a while - remember my love ones. Hehe. At some rolling stretch, the usual back riders never failed to throw in more jokes.

Another quick 30 seconds regrouping at the bottom before rolling into Kuala Klawang Petronas station another 22km. Average 32kph tagging behind Bacin as the train engineer. So far so good. Legs still looks and felt good. None of those creeping nibbling pain up the thighs yet. A 20 minutes pit stop for refuelling hydrations and a quick snack from my breakfast bar. Kuala Klawang was a bit busy that morning from a festival at the town square. Sighting of cyclists basking around the petrol station on weekends is perhaps a norm among the locals. Even a pakcik courteously stopped his car to allow us to cross the busy town road.

Point of no return - Kuala Klawang

Then we rolled off into Jelebu peaceful trunk road which was a bit narrow at some part. The air was rich with splendouring kampung essence. We have mixtures of durian smell from roadside stalls, smell of nasi minyak for the afternoon wedding reception, smell from freshly burned leaves and I thought passing through a quick sharp snap on the nose from the local fresh manure. It was a rolling feat where everyone stayed in pack cruising nothing more than 30kph. Azahari was leading the pack and everybody just sat back and enjoyed the cruise.

Well, the luxury didn't last long into the 14th kilometer when the gigantic greyish geological proof stood right in front of us challenging the inner weaklings. Bukit Tangga. A 3km Cat 3 climb where the best sight is only to look down at the stem. I was not planning to recall the agony of my previous blow, so I swigged down a gel moments before the ascend. Well wishes were thrown among us and still we can joke about the torment that we are about to get. Our last words before strunging the line were "Selamat hari raya. Maaf zahir batin. Jumpa kat atas ye".

The pacing was kept at personal. No one bothered to race to the top cause it will only make oneself hit the wall early. I was keeping the crank spinning at a momentous cadence. The pushing and pulling up the barren terrestrial sculpture went on promisingly as compared to my former attempts. It was nothing panoramic but it was definitely majestic. We have huge surface area of tarmac from the four lane carriageway, a bland sight of the concrete drain and a vast area of green started to look up at us as the escalation continues. Since the morning was still raw and the sun casted a friendly spark on Jelebu, the climb was sweet. With a few seeps of CamelBak Elixir from the bottle, the greeting effort was kept at optimum. We blatantly celebrated the feat at the peak with of course more jokes.

Bukit Tangga - Route 86 (Jelebu - Seremban); somebody's singing the blues away

Of course, what goes up must come down la right. The descending was again a fast one...55kph? I guess so. I kept my distance from thinking the unnecessary and pledged to only enjoy the biting cool breeze. The rest of them dissappeared into those bends continuing on with the jubilation from the second climb.

Right exactly at the bottom, a hard right awaiting for the road to Lenggeng. Should one wishes to proceed with Route 86 into Seremban, that covers another 20km. I know the next ascend will be just around the curve and it will be taxing. Though only stretched out for a click, the legs will have to work harder after logging in almost 80km now. Just as we were about to get strung out again, Azahari's chain snapped!

We took awhile to gather ourselves and even longer to gather our thoughts for the next cause of action - perhaps it was unexpected. First we walked around looking for the chain pin which we thought could've blown away from the stressing pull. A quick check at the chain, the pin was still attached to the link. Phew! But the link was bent and had to be removed. In fact two links were removed to make ends meet...was that an idiom? The tricky part was getting the chain back into the rear derailleur and around those pulleys. I turned myself into a greasemonkey helping out the dirty job figuring the correct way. We even had Bahri's bike for sample. Haha. The rest of us took turn landing a hand at the next unpinning and pinning process. Thanks to Adeline who was the only lady and chain tool supplier. That's what happend when none of us had the experience attending to this kind of mechanical problem but problem solved eventually...30 minutes later. Azahari flew away flawlessly up Bukit Lenggeng.

7km into the small humid town of Lenggeng. We passed by Hutan Lipur Lenggeng and of course Kampung Mandum. Nothing special about it but kinda like the name. Mandum. My definition of "mandom" would be "long-faced" expression. Maggi from the mamak serves the best meal for these bitten souls. However, the waiting took infinity. What was this mamak doing la? Aiyo! A 2 minute noodle lasted for more than 20 minutes. We took turn putting the pressure and going in and out the restaurant fridge for more drinks. By the time maggi was served, it looked like lasagna already. Ammah! Most of the kuah gone and the noodle turned fat. The feeding frenzie was anti climax. A by product of late maggi, we have 12 soya bean cans, 5 cokes and 4 glasses of tea on the table. Were we camels or what?!

We left Lenggeng at somewhere around 1.00 p.m. and started to feel the heat. The ride through Broga towards Semenyih will cover another 20km and it started to bite. The camaraderie turned discreet at most of the time. I decided to accompany Azahari while nursing what's already in these legs. The rest charged away with Bacin at the lead again. We passed by the famous Broga Hill entrance, just the opposite of a rabbit farm. Now I know where's the Broga Hill trailhead.

Another regrouping at Semenyih Petronas and the day have started to turn chaotic. Traffic, fumes, dust and heatwave are the common disaster. We can't wait long basking in the pollutants so we hurried away into Jalan Sungai Lalang heading towards Sungai Tekala for the final 16km stretch. I was so ambitious to generously doing the work up front for a click or two before giving way to fellow buddies continuing the task back to the carpark.

Done. 115km and that's about it. Clocked riding time almost like my first marathon 4:51 and that was one awesome ride. Soon my black beauty steed will undergo some servicing for more milage to come. But now it is time to replenish the soul through Ramadhan with more exciting camaraderie between me and Allah.

May all fellow weekend warriors, RBUs, GKLs, FMVs and friends have a blessing Ramadhan and blasting training for Seri Manjung...emmm alahai! :)

Back on the saddle

Burp! (Pardon me)

Nasi lemak with ayam percik and Milo, together with a 64km of awesomeness. I don't get to do this on runs. The best meal at Seri Hartamas Petronas was a jelly pudding  credits from Ian. Of course the mee hun soup at Bukit Aman carpark is still the best but that would be after the workout. Yep, one thing cool about cycling is that we have pitstops and sometimes you drowned yourself into the pit and struggles to climb back up again.

Eversince my last biggie, my runs were sporadical. Managed to squeeze in a few miles now and then. That particular Saturday morning, I revisited our McDonald loop and still lovin' it :)  There was no orang kampung around for chats. Det attended a charity gathering while Nizam was in the land of the lost - my only evidence of his existence would be his pic besides Shuk's car during one of our GKL's LSD.  It was a solo run then, and the pictures from the side lanes on Saturday morning made me wonder about a lot of stuff.

To treasure a few, we have Saturday morning life:

• My schoolmate who was queueing for nasi lemak with seven other starving corporate figures. He's one of the top guys in TM and he sure tops it up with those nasi lemaks.
• A dozen of Indonesian construction workers who suddenly appeared from bushes of pre-developed area and jumped into a 3 tonne lorry and a pickup for their meal of the day. That lorry will definitely be an attraction for our good-on-the job police officers.
• An old pakcik who can hardly walk in a good posture but can still smile and greet me with a thumbs up.

The rest of the morning was back on the fast lane, driving my kids to tuition and Kumon and some other strength workouts i.e. scrubbing the carporch drain (lower back and arm strengthening) and shifting kilos of potty plants (another risky attempt for lower back strengthening). Wifey took charge of potong rumput. Hehe. I stopped at the seventh pot and call it a day. Phew! No wonder I was napping soundly in the afternoon la - I thought it was the run.

Kaklong and Amir attended Coach Azwar's running class. Those tuitions and Kumons and Play Station games throughout the afternoon require some release and the Kampung Pandan running track was the best place. The class was delayed an hour from the thunderstorm but kids were enjoying every bit of the splish and splash.

Going back to cycling took me awhile. After those months of marathon trainings, I could hardly squeeze in a ride or two. So my bike was the best place for hanging praying mats and clothes spray. How cruel of me. It was payback time and I have beautiful kampung road to spin and majestic climbs to tackle. I started off with purchasing a chain cleaner and a pair of new Sky Team water bottle - talking about starting a motivation eh?  Splendido! My gorgeous beauty was sparkling and ready for Sunday come back ride - another reason to skip Shape Run on top of missing the closing date. Haha!

From the Saturday thunderstorm and continuing rain all over KL that evening, we have overcast and mists all over Ulu Langat on Sunday morning. Yes, we were chasing clouds climbing up Genting Peres. Nicely gathered cycling friends whom most of them I've missed. We have Bacin, Saiful, Alwin, Fadil, Jaja and Det. I was chilled from the riding menu for the day since we'll be tackling the 9km Genting Peres followed by 3km Bukit Hantu (named after every attempt from most cyclists...Hantu betul!)

The speed was nice before Jaja vanished from the peloton only to be learned later she had some tailoring to do. Fadil had a flat tyre just before the climb up Peres, only to be known that he purposedly skipped it due to Shape Run post workout dilemma. While the rest of us continued with the pedal pushing-pulling pursuit. Lucky me the stamina from running was still dangling around to make the climb less torturous. And the view over the clouds was awesome. We don't even dare to stay long at the peak with only our cycling attire to keep the chilling wind at bay. And the ride down was not exceptional either - I was shivering.

We rendevouzed with Fadil and Jaja at Sungai Tekala rest area for refuelling and spent the minutes laughing at nonsense among us. Fadil started to realise the jawcramping ride will definitely require a rerun - just like LSD kan?

However, Bukit Hantu was the main course. All laughs and IQs were swallowed away as we confronted the gruelling thing. As the sun was so happy to streak her rays after struggling to penetrate the thick morning overcast, we bowed in loyal to the power of nature at it's best. It was only 10.30 a.m. and my quads and glutes were freaking out. The back of my neck and arms started to feel the burning sensation from the streaking rays. It was a pleasureable pain and cycling serves it best.