Hi! Haze...

Hi Haze! When can I say 'bye! bye! Haze?!'.

I think this is the worse coverage, and yes, the most dense ever. I think the last one, many years ago was something like this. I remember riding to work with a face mask. Then, the el nino thing also came together creating the best heat wave strike. But, we've been through these year after year. Then SYABAS also wanted to join in the party, throwing in water shortage package over Klang Valley.

I was in my college life. Thinks were a bit more simple, when I only have to manage...my own self. The  only scariest thing was to manage bowel movement, which created a climate of panic and trauma in the nerve system. We would normally skipped our morning shower and save the water for the evening, after our soccer session. Yes, despite the limited visual, we still graze the football field. And our special shower was from the fire hydrant. Lovely. Life was simple.

This week, things are a bit more complicated. Only two weeks ago we were enjoying the tropical thunderstorm, providing post storm cooling layer over the night. Despite complaints from traffic chaos due to flash floods and such, we the motorcyclists just pull up our rain jackets and let the raindrops pecked our exposed skin.

It is a yearly event when they, the people who's responsible for these phenomena, happily burn their farms as it is the cheapest way to do so to clear for new crops. I came across these from here. However, things went gigantic when bigger farms adopted the same method. These plantations are giants themselves in South East Asia, however the mentality are puny. 600 hectares of flames. That is almost an equivalent size of 600 football fields! Scary.

NASA satellite image (canggih boh...)

Adding salt to the wound, we have wind blowing from north-eastward from across the Indian Ocean developing an envelope of smog over south Peninsular. Things got worse when there's no rain, read hot season. Lucky water didn't run short.

Hopefully the trailing will last soon

We stayed indoor most of the time. It can be suffocating at times, but outside is even worse. A short trip to the sundry have already made me feeling a bit nausea and headache. That shows how serious it is, or I'm too old for all kind of these :]

And this stubborn old goat, still went out cycling on Sunday. Having the strategy to cycle up Genting Sempah, thinking those thick foliage should provide a good buffer from the haze. However, we lost. Haze was still treacherous especially reaching noon time, when the blowing wind brought thick particles into our respiratory system. Too scary to imagine. I gushed 2 bottles straight away upon reaching Gombak again, hoping that it would flush away those scary things.

Fixed

A week of super fast pace went by when work loads piled up like there's no tomorrow. These are the backlogs from the previous week after KCR and I sometime felt confused whether I am still recovering from KCR or the work load itself.

Fixed. Love is in the air

When time passed by like a jet stream and the weekend is not going to be a colourful one, sometimes we just have to be thankful that we don't have the worse from it. OK, this is me babbling at 10.00 a.m. on Sunday morning. Literally it isn't me, when I am supposed to be out there breathing the morning air while perhaps getting a caffeine fixed with friends, somewhere in the state line between Selangor and Pahang. Or maybe, thumping the pavement while listening to the synced heart beat and the melody from the ear-pod.  

But that didn't materialised. The best that I can boast is a 5K run in  between my chauffeuring shift. Like I said, perhaps that was the best 5K for a justified good life.

After sending over the heroes for their weekly tae kwan do class, I squeezed in a run at our local Lake District. Due to my careless mind after KCR and of course old age, I misplaced my heart rate sensor. The only thing I found was the chest strap, hung over the kitchen window for a week. 

So I left the strap and grab the shoes, plunged into the driver's seat and drove to school. Wait! The MP3 is more important since I've downloaded a few new tunes for the run. Arrived at the lake slightly late (time based on supposed normal running time start). Can't help it, anyway it will just be a short one. Put on the right shoe and ... voila! The sensor is inside. So, the run will be based on a more conventional method of air-gasping rate instead. 

First lap of 1.7 km was basically conforming with generally accepted standards of respectable or moral behaviour. Mostly enjoying the fresh smell of lavender from the runners, which mostly ladies...ni bau bedak la tuan direktor :]

Second lap was slightly insane. Slightly. Basically conforming to the beat of the playlist, maintaining steady form while the heart began beating like a drum.

Third lap was the climax when Pearl Jam was on the track. Unfortunately it lasted 80% of the loop when gasp became GRASP!

That was about it for the weekend, before the next shift move in. Time for a coffee break in between shifts a bit later. Nothing beats a nice chillax treat.

Hold on a sec. Is this supposed to be a Father's Day kind of treat?

Lanun - Prolog

Last weekend kami jadi hantu runner. Hantu runner yang dah lama meninggalkan pekerjaan berlari. Asyik jadi hantu basikal je.

Sebaik aje aku turunkan basikal dari kereta setelah pulang dari Kuantan 2 minggu yang lepas, macam gitu lah lagi keadaannya di tepi tangga rumah. Terbalik, dan tayar di sisi. Nasib baik dah siap-siap basuh kat homestay. If not, mau bersemut saddle and bartape macam basikal Det. Tu citer dulu-dulu :P

Menjelang hujung minggu, rasa keinginan nak berkayuh tu tak mai langsung. Maybe aku dah muak dan jelak. Maybe badan aku memberi signal untuk merehatkan kaki kayuh & punggung ku yang dah hampir leper. Until dah sampai hari Jumaat yang kononnya selalu kami laungkan TGIF!, masih belum ada apa-apa plan. Actually dari tanda-tanda biologi, aku masih terasa penat agaknya.

Masa weekend aku diselamatkan dengan adanya kaum yang sedang training untuk Standard Chartered KL Marathon. Cantek sangat. 

Geng Orang Kampung pakat-pakat lambung untuk lari berkumpulan sekitar kampung halaman dengan jarak siuman. Dengan window masa yang aku ada hanya sejam, aku petik untuk lari 5KM je, so sempat balik hantar anak pi sekolah. Ramai jugak yang menimang lambungan aku. Eventually, berlonggok lah kami berlari-lari macam zaman dulu-dulu seramai 5 orang. 

Antara ungkapan dalam hati seorang customer nasi lemak tepi jalan sebaik terlihat kami, "Eh?! Dah lama aku tak nampak geng Kenya Sawo Matang ni. Ada lagi rupanya."

Pace sesedap rasa membuatkan kami langsung takde rasa penyesalan, walaupun dah berabad rasanya tak berlari. Itu tanda-tanda dah mula dapat feel agaknya.

Menjelangnya Ahad, aku masih samar-samar dengan plan apa aku nak buat. Plan untuk kayuh pun masih open dan tiada satu pun yang aku confirm-kan. Di awal subuh yang hening tu jugak lah aku terima lambungan Det untuk melanun di Mizuno Wave Run. Maka jadi lah ia Pirate Chasing Wave Run.

La ni MWR dah jadi 16km. Fee seperti dahulu lagi, sejak aku last join secara halal, masih tetap mahal. Tapi dulu cuma 11km di UPM. La ni di Putrajaya, maybe depa nak justify distance & fee. Iyo lah. Aku sekadar nak ambik feel lari semula, so kemeriahan event macam ni cukup untuk kembalikan mood. Kalau lari kat kampung, kompom 1000 satu macam alasan nak mengelat.

Disebabkan dah lama tak berkejaran di hening pagi untuk ke race venue, maka pergerakan bowel aku juga mengalami masalah timing. Dah sampai PoJ baru dia nak 'panggil'. Maka dengan gimmick muka tenang aku merayau dari satu blok ke satu blok bangunan kerajaan mencari. Queue yang paling pendek aku pilih, so tak lah jenuh berdiri dalam ruang tertutup Alam Flora tu.

Tinggal lagi 4 orang depan aku, horn pun berbunyi tanda peserta 16km dah dilepaskan. Dua orang depan aku dah tunjuk muka cemas lantas depa teruih ciao. Maybe depa mau target podium. Yang lagi 2 terpaksa buat muka kelat sabar menanti, tak sanggup menghadap bala yang akan menimpa sekiranya hajat tak ditunaikan.

Eh?! Apa ni citer benda-benda gross?

OK. OK. Ada lah lebih kurang 5 minit baru aku terpinga-pinga sampai di start line. Anggapan aku, Det dan Zahrol dah ciao. Takpe, memang aku pesan kat depa tak yah tunggu. Rupa-rupanya depa tunggu jugak. Konon tanpa depa, aku nak mengelat & lari sama-sama kategori 7km udah ler.

Depa ajak belasah aje follow 16km dengan saki baki peserta yang baru nak start jugak. So kami pun cangkuk la ekor-ekor peloton yang ada.

Yang syioknya start dari belakang ni ialah kami dapat overtake runners sedikit demi sedikit. Lebih kurang macam motivasi la jugak, konon lajuuuu.

Di sudut hati aku masih berkira-kira nak khatam kan larian sampai 10km aje, lepas tu chicken loop kat mana-mana yang boleh. Pusing punya pusing, bila sampai di PICC, dah cecah 6km. Adeh. Kena lambung manja sikit dengan kaum untuk follow aje route depa sampai lokasi yang sesuai untuk memendekkan larian.

Water station semua kami skip, al-maklum la lanun. Alhamdullillah tekak boleh bertahan, maybe sebab cuaca yang agak sejuk pagi tu.

Kami decide untuk skip loop Pullman Hotel dan satu loop lagi di Masjid Besi, so kami safe 5km. Hasil distance covered cukup setakat 11km untuk larian amik mood. Kena banyak bersabar.

Yang paling girang, kul 10.00 a.m. dah sampai rumah!

Tapi 2 hari kaki sengal. Tanda-tanda untuk teruskan menimba sengal-sengal yang akan datang.

East Cost 100 Miles - Beyond The Peloton

And yet suddenly I have no words to share from the recent event. Not a even a single. Lost most of it. Was it non-dramatic over in Kuantan? It was, definitely, but it did go as planned, Alhamdullillah, without any surprises.

Yes, I gained a few more valuable experience. Bits and pieces put together after the ride. Will share the story as we go down the paragraphs.

Alhamdullillah everything went well. The mission was simple. To cross the finish line within 6 hours without pain and suffer and regrets. The target was set based on the training yardstick. If we could've spent a bit more on strength input, we might target for a better time. Hence, we just stayed rational and logic, avoiding any 'Benson & Hedges Golden Dreams' of being in the first peloton till the end.

The great stuff from the weekend was the outing with buddies itself. The story beyond the peloton. The camaraderie. It has been a while since a road trip, I think the last one was from last year's KCR160 in March.

We left KL early that Saturday morning, an attempt to beat the jam. We failed since the Saturday's public holiday attracted even more traffic leaving the city, creating massive queue at Gombak Toll Plaza. We ditched the highway and enroute ourselves to the old Gombak Road, our weekend cycling route. Driving through it ain't exciting though, compared to climbing it on 2 wheels.

Eventually reached Kuantan after skipping almost every overcrowded rest area. Even queuing for the toilet made it looked like getting a football ticket. We checked in at our beautiful homestay at Indera Mahkota for  a quick clean-up. The 4 rooms semi-D was gorgeous. Perfect for 17 of us and 17 bikes. Did you said SEVENTEEN??! First come first served, baby! Almost felt like a bangla-kongsi with air-conditioned bedrooms.

The luxurious kongsi

Then it was the bib collection a.k.a. meeting up with other fellow cyclists with some chit chats thrown in before we indulged for the biggest behind the scene drama.

Half of us

Ana Ikan Bakar Petai is one of the favourite local joint for seafood in Kuantan. An early dinner, as early 5.30 in the evening was our plan. Simply to avoid the expected crowd. True enough, we made the best decision. Should we came in half an hour late, we'll be standing and waiting for empty tables while wiping our growling tummies :]

The war started right away. With 10 cyclists ready to carboload, the menu was humongous. We appeared to be eating equivalent to 20 person. And there's not even an inch of empty space on the table. Masak petai for the Golden Snapper, masak 3 rasa for the other 2 Red Snappers, a sea of fried squids, spicy delicious Tom Yam, telur dadar and free flow of rice. We were monsters in disguise. The war rages on like there's no tomorrow. The battlefield was scary and yet no one seemed to be withdrawing. Until to the last piece, we can barely lift the spoon and fork to feed anymore. It was devastating. The sight of a waiter passing our table with a plate full of fried squids was already traumatic.

The dark side of us

The real us

We headed back to the homestay for the final preparation especially the bikes. Now everyone wants to be the pro-mechanic. Twitching bikes here and there. Garmin calibration. Hydration measurement and electrolyte grading and hydrate. Gels strategy. Tyre pressure gauging. Chain lubing and hydrate. Timing chip setup and hydrate. You name it. The whole house packed like a F1 pit-stop backdrop. It dragged until mid-night.

The next morning, ample wash-room facilities made life easier for morning routines. Some even taking the effort of waking up super early just to enjoy the luxurious morning 'moment'. Quick breakfast with anything we can grab on, Nescafe for me as usual for that particular 'umph!' feel. We rode to the start line a kilometre away at Malaysia International Islamic University.

Almost half an hour before flag-off, we received a surprise turn up from our long lost friend Nik Enaikay, a legendary runner blogger. Now he's into photo-blogger. Great to see him.

We don't have any special plans. Trying to keep together was impossible since the 2000 cyclists were packed for the first 30 km rolling start. In that particular distance, disaster occurred almost at every 5 km. All stunts right before my eyes. Horrific.

There were crashed from fallen water bottles. Crashed from pot holes. Crashed from tangling wheels and wheels. And even a herd of cows almost triggered a crash when they attempted to cross the road!

I dare not distract myself from the front view and all hands on the brake levers and shifters. Full alert for any mishaps. The cruising speed was devilish, tops almost at 45 kph at times, especially at the nostalgic Pantai Sepat. Sprinting legs were stung whenever the peloton got strung after every corners and inclines. It was super-interval for the first hour. It was pain trying to latch to the first bunch.

No more solitary at Pantai Sepat

Upon completing Pantai Sepat and the kampung road, I got a side stitch. Argh! Perhaps from the rock and roll tempo pace. I had to let go. By the this time, the peloton was released from the pace car and hell broke loose. I grasp for any smaller groups that I can latch to but to no avail, the side stitch didn't help.

As the pain subsides moments later, a group of 7 riders passed by and a foreigner invited me to form a descend pace group. We took turn leading and the speed was managed at a very pleasurable one, I was smiling again rather than crying & startled during the last hour. This small group hold the pace together for at least 10 km before suddenly a huge peloton of nearly 150 riders, I think, caught up and engulfed us back into a sea of cyclists. However the speed remained calm for a while for self recovery. Phew!

The rolling starts after 80 km and that was where most of us was in our own war. When the pain from overboard zone pace started to be fruitful. I had to be a bit selfish, latching up to even a tiny group of 2 cyclists! Shame on me. Then we turned slightly bigger to 7, but soon as we hit the KOM stage, we were back to 1 again. The KOM stage was lonely, and Nik was there to capture my miserable looks. Thanks Nik for the priceless answer.

Bro, mana water station??
Entah la bro. Aku pun tak tau.
Thanks for the honest answer Nik!

Lucky the KOM was short, but the the third water station (WS) was 10 km away! With 3 bottles with me from the beginning, my plan was to skip the first 2 WS. It worked but the mental game played along through the lonely path.

At WS-3, familiar faces waited. Alwin and Azahari. Ziff caught up slightly before. The sense of camaraderie gave a tiny sting of hope of being able to ride together again like our normal weekend ride. And our conversation which was mostly about the 'initial super-interval stage' became lively.

Sponge Bob friends

Again, the tiny excitement melted once we hit the partial end of the East Coast Highway. It has the complete package for a century meltdown with accumulating miles, accumulating pain, energy dissipation, heat from above and below, headwind, exposed and straight climbs. The trauma of Guthrie Corridor hit us. It was mental game again. We barely converse. Silence hits the surface.

It lasted for 13 km one way and we have to return the same way on the other side. The front riders have turned back and tormented faces were streamlined along the way. The three of us took mercy under a bridge for a moment and continued on towards WS-4 at KM133. Now this stop represents the best of it all. A sponging facility! At the time of the day, that was the most brilliant idea. We indulge ourselves into it. Squeezing the sponge, slowly releasing the freezing water through the helmet and down our spine. We took refuge under a van's rear door while deciding to wait for the rest of the buddies which we saw will join soon.

Det and Akmal arrived moments later and we continued to parade ourselves for the remaining 30 km with two more humps and a rolling pass. We knew that sub-6 is already in our grasp, hence another brilliant idea from Alwin to stop for a thirst quencher at a Guava juice stall. Priceless.

We rolled in towards the finish line together somewhere after 5:40 hours of riding time, smiling, no cursing and enjoyed the shower from the fire hydrant's spout. Ethically collected our medal and cert and of course lunch while resting and honouring our taxing day. Suddenly the camaraderie went dead, perhaps due to incompleteness of the bangla on bikes circle.

However, it went lively back again right after we headed back to the homestay and the so called post ride talks, joke and 'lambungs' flew all over Indera Mahkota with a loud bang from the 17 of us. While washing our bikes we added more talks and laughters. We excelled, we ran out of luck and we enjoyed the century distance in our own way.

Wait! The war finale ain't over until the post ride meal is official. Another round of smaller scale war due to diminishing appetite but a plain white rice with a bowl of hot Tom Yam was the best to tease my pale taste bud.

Lost of words nya la haiiii...