The Thrill of Passing Someone

Driving in car, you might think overtaking is a totally normal thing. It has no implications - the person in front is slower and you want to go faster, so you overtake. Single white line, no oncoming traffic, change lane, step on the gas, get back in lane.

Not so on a bike. On a bike it's an ego disaster if you get passed and fail to pass the person again. The drill is the same, get to the right of the rider, step on the pedals, upshift, step, step, step, pass him. The problem with doing this on the bike is that your anaerobic and high-intensity fuels can run out very fast, and when that does, you realise that the person you overtook is suddenly on your side, overtaking you. But I tell you: it's damn thrilling for that little second you are overtaking. It's like shooting an arrow straight at the ego saying, "I got better cardio/muscle power/aerodynamics/weight" than you!"

Of course, the thrill varies according to what equipment you use. The greatest satisfaction comes when you are totally disadvantaged - fat tyres while your opponent (notice: "opponent") rides with skinny tyres, or perhaps he has an electric motor and you do not.

The problem, as aforementioned, is always keeping the lead indefinitely. Not likely. Once your opponent decides that you aren't gonna keep it, you gotta work even harder to keep it. He hasn't used up his high-intensity fuels, he does not need to travel the extra distance you rode to overtake him, and he might still be fresher than you, with greater peak power at that point of time. The biggest problem, however, likely comes from the thought that once you do not see him, the race is over. It isn't. He's behind, spinning up those legs, while you are in front, likely slowing down the legs - it's the pain, and your motivation to step on it is now behind you... but not for long.

So why do men train? To keep that ego inflated. Armstrong, Contador, Mercx, you, me, that guy on the Giant who passed me after I passed him while staring in my direction, we all train to different degrees, to keep things fast - more accurately, faster.

The Fate of the Tandem

I love my tandem. It's always great to ride with someone on the tandem. It's a joy to know that no matter the disparity between the two rider's physical abilities, both are only inches away from each other, unlike if you gave two people separate bikes, whereby the fitter one would get fed up waiting, and the weaker one would be panting and sweating. Both will inevitably hate the ride.

It's a great bike too - reasonably priced, decently geared (albeit it leans towards the lower end), and very comfortable. The upright position is comfy. The gears can climb any hill despite the weight of the high tensile steel bike. And it didn't cost me $700.

Unfortunately, a tandem is only good when it has two on it. Otherwise, a single person bike makes more sense. This tandem is space-guzzling. It's around 2.2 metres long, or in other words, two-thirds of a small car. I haven't found anyone but my cousin to ride on it, but she's busy. No man would ever want to ride behind another man. It's an ego thing.

What is to be determined - probably next month, is what will I do with this bike. It's been relegated to disuse for quite a while now, and if its fortunes do not change come December, it's going on the market.

Non-Alignment, again.

Hello.

If you are a reader of my previous blog, you would know how I love the phrase "Non-Alignment". It seems that since 2007, I have been pursuing a policy of non-alignment when it comes to dealing with other people. Post-2007, I haven't met too many people I am too interested in. Especially workmates or schoolmates or jailmates. In fact, after leaving my cradle and getting shoved into society, I realised how diverse the world is, and how many assholes exist only to piss you off. What's more, they are aligned with more assholes. As they say, birds of the same feathers flock together. They do.

Non-alignment comes with a price. It's isolationism with a whiff of independence. It's keeping yourself off the radar from others, and others off your radar. They don't disturb you, neither do you disturb them. They leave without you, you leave without them. On one hand, it's freedom. On the other, it's being a social disconnect. As always, everything has its pros and cons.

Initially, I would have thought that being aligned is great, since it's always better to have friends. You know, a friend in need is a friend indeed. I take that as when I need a favour, I can ask. Looking at the people I mix with, I think I'd rather be self-sufficient. Some people will smile in front of you, talk to you, eat with you, sit with you, but the world post 2007 is way to different. If that makes a friend, then suicide guarantees you an entry to heaven.

It's unfortunate I have never found a good datum to judge who's your friend and who's not. It's a gut feeling. Or else, you just have to wait until catastrophe happens. Then, as I learnt from my classmate Jie Ying, you can see who's your real friend, and who's not. Given the latter scenario, it's better to trust your gut feeling than to rely on the unknown until proven. Perhaps then, I have misinterpreted the aforementioned phrase "a friend in need is a friend indeed". It's perhaps just merely reflecting the most empirical basis of a friend - a friend that's there for you is a proven friend. The rest are friends too, just not proven ones.

Don'tcha love to go fast, fast, fasssssssst

I do. I love to go fast. I love to hit the elusive 40km/h. It's just not easy to hit 40km/h with 0.2-and-a-little-bit-more horsepower. Today I went interval training, which I haven't done for a superrrrrrrr long time. One week plus.

Shiok. Too bad my calves give me shit everytime near the end of the ride. It just blows up, hurting like shit. Maybe it's because I'm always too lazy to stretch, too eager to get on the bike. WHEE.

New workplace commute trial

Today I went for a trial commute on my Dahon. Total distance was 46.67km, the second half was torturous. I could only ride in fourth gear instead of fifth. Here are the times...

Home - Tanah Merah : 40min
Tanah Merah - Workplace : 35min
Workplace - East Coast Park - Home : 1h 20min

So I have to get to work at 8am. That means I gotta set off at 6.30am latest, or if going there directly, 6.45am if going directly to work.

The home commute was rather interesting. East Coast Park... which means no vehicles to share the road with, no red lights, and it's pretty scenic too. Hah!

Fire Burning

I feel it burning, but it's not within my reach
I desire it, but it's not within my reach
I want but I cannot want
While I continue wanting

By the Avenue Nanyang, I Sat Down and Wept.

Some people get sick of university studies. I just can't wait to get there. For me, it means more than I'm going to university. It means I'm getting out of jail. So when I passed by Nanyang Avenue, with a big sign that added fuel to the fire saying "NTU/NIE" in a truck, I couldn't do anything but weep silently.