Acclimatization

Okay, okay. So riding in Manila streets is like riding a bicycle-- even if it's been a while, you never truly forget it (I need to upgrade my figures of speech. Using bike metaphors on this blog, come on..). I kind of thought I'd be spoiled by BC's bike lanes, until I realized that not having any bike lanes are still the way to go!

It didn't take me long to re-acclimatize myself with Manila's traffic patterns.

I still hate those damn motorcycles though.

5am rides

Before the heat sets in and I have to remind myself what riding at 5am to the university feels like.

Wake up at 4:30am. Look at the weather and see how manageable the temperature is. The most frustrating part about biking in close to negative temperatures is the sheer amount of clothing and preparation needed.

Long johns - check.
"Moisture-wicking base layer" (LOL I love all these technical terms) - check.
Down vest - check
Reflective windbreaker - check!
Balaclava/buff - check!
Cheap wool gloves (they may be glove liners but I am not entirely sure) - check!

Drag the bike outside to get a feel of the weather. Early in the fall, this was my go-to ride outfit. As temperatures hit closer to freezing, I need an extra layer.

So back into the house I go and grab another pair of gloves and put on leg warmers.

The worst part of the ride is the start-- it always feels a little bit chilly. Then as I pedal farther away from my house, my legs start to warm up, the heat starts to creep in as the road turns hillier. Soon, I feel nice and toasty.

Riding at 5am has its perks. I don't need to deal with crazy drivers. (See, that's what I don't get about Canadian drivers/roads. They have all the proper infrastructure to drive carefully, yet still lots of crazy drivers on the streets). The streets are quiet, empty, and dark. I can either talk to myself or sing out loud without looking like a fool. Other times, I'm perfectly content to appreciate the stillness and emptiness of the roads. Occasionally, I'd run into some of the early morning crew doing road repairs and we'd cheerily greet each other "good morning!", early morning accomplices each with the same thought: "What the hell are we doing up and about at 5 in the morning?"

The roads closer to the university have no street lights and so my headlamp comes in handy. These dark roads remind me so much of the open seas in Coron where we would travel based on the feel of the ocean. I've biked these roads all summer so even with my headlamp turned off, I knew exactly when the drops were coming, when I had to turn and which major potholes to avoid.

These roads that pass through orchards and stable are eerily quiet and dark. The whole world. It's my favorite part of the ride because then I feel absolutely at peace. The world is just about to wake up and I am alive and grateful to be here.

I always wonder how I ended up here

The Trees Are Out To Get You.

October 10. Autumn Rush. The race starts off on this immense hill, and I hear my breathing and my heart pounding well into the first ten minutes of this run. I'm not the only one. Most of the runners who have started this race running are now walking up the hills.

Then suddenly, I step into another world. It's all downhill from here--literally. I take what the trail gives me.  It's past12pm, but it's practically pitch black in the forest. I hear nothing, but the sound of my breathing. I almost lose my footing on several occasions, wanting to stop and take in the sights and sounds and this incredible atmosphere of where I am running, but gravity won't let me. Instead it takes me down, down, down, through twisty trails and singletracks, roots and rocks. And I am lost. Lost in my thoughts, lost in this eerie world where I half-expect trees to come to life and nymphs to pop out any time.

I feel incredibly sure-footed. Not a single thought of doubt enters my mind as I weave my way in and around the trails. My breathing, once heavy and noisy at the start of the uphills, are now more controlled.

Then I feel myself getting pulled back to reality. I see a dog and hikers. I see an aid station, where I take a banana and an electrolyte pill. (Apparently there was beer in that station too, which I did not know about??!) I see an even crazier hill than the one we entered. And I see other runners slowly climb that hill. And I hear their voices.

"My calves are killing me!"
"I'm cramping up!"

I hear the announcer and I see the parking lot. I hear a "Go, Lei!" cheer from Stacey, as she is already changing by the car.

And just like that, it was over way too soon. I grabbed a veggie burger, and stuffed my face with chips and a wagonwheel (an oversized Fibisco choco mallow) and hoped either Stacey's or my name would come up in the door prizes. I didn't win anything, but Stacey (unknowingly to her!) won the 10km category!

So no, the trees did not come out to get me. But I almost wished they did. How I would have loved to stay in that almost magical and mysterious trail!

The rain that was forecast for our race start made its presence known instead during the awarding. The temperature dropped a few degrees and then we made our way out of the park.

20km runners making their way past the start line.

Myra Adventure Park has this awesome ropes course for friends, family, or corporate stuff.

Thanksgiving Weekend in Canada. What are you thankful for?

My camera can't quite capture that awesome red fall-iage (harhar) way way down below.

Rene, the race director, giving some final pre-race tips to the 20km runnners.

Pre-race picture with Stacey!

Post-race with our finisher's medals! Stacey won the 10km category!

Some serious post-race chillage

Many thanks to the PACE Sports team, especially to Rene and all the volunteers for making this run happen!

Sunday Smoke

My laptop is a canvas of oily fingerprints, bread and cookie crumbs and coffee stains. It's disgusting really.

My mind and body are struggling to find the balance between coming from a place of familiarity and a place where everything is new and challenging.

I try to exercise. I still bike commute. I now cook and clean and do the groceries on my own. I worry about things like health care and rent and student budgets.

I try not to think of my peers back home-- their stable careers, loving relationships and little families. It's a life I want, just not now.

I think about the steps that led me here, how three years ago, I told myself I was going to get a PhD. And so here I am. How I traded a life of comfort and security for one of uncertainty.

It will all work out in the end, I tell myself. And so others tell me too.

Today, the fires from Washington brought tons of smoke to the BC area. The smell of smoke would cling to your clothing and skin. So I spent most of today indoors. And I made a pretty sweet carrot loaf.

Ain't It Fun!

"Livin' in the real world"

I burst out laughing when this song came on Spotify. I was on my way home after riding a particularly hilly section of road. (What am I talking about, everything here is hilly). And I kept thinking how apt it was.

My legs and lungs needed new life. This day definitely brought me some of that.

I must have played that song several times on the way home.

"Don't go cryin' to your mama 'cause you're on your own!"

Break

Constant drizzle for three days.  

Then the sky opened up.

I stepped off my bike and wondered aloud, "How the hell did I end up here again?"

In the Zone

Blue Trail, Timberland Heights, San Mateo, Rizal. Pen joked that I needed off-road/trail riding training before I moved away. So Pen and Levi took me to their little playground for some fun on the trails. Trails are a chaotic mess that wreak havoc on your mind, body and bike, but then you hit that zone where absolute serenity happens. Then the madness happens all over again.

The truth is, these trails frighten me. There is always that drop, curve or that insanely steep climb with the loose rocks and soil where you ask yourself if you can ride it or if the bike can handle it. Truth is, it's always the latter.

It's a stubborn relationship where the bike keeps asking more of you, but you hold back. It's aggressive and wants to let loose on the trails, while you're tightly gripping the handlebars-- heart thudding, sweat dripping, legs turning to jelly. Eventually, you give in and it turns out the bike was right all along.

Well, that paragraph turned into more drama than expected. I just imagined all that in my head, actually. Bikes will make you do that.

SHEroes Behind the Scenes

March 2015. I received a message the other day from Charley, a good friend of mine, asking if Pen and I were available for a shoot on women on bicycles for Rappler. So on a Saturday afternoon, I sat on the steps of Vargas Museum with Mia, Tina, Nitya, Julia, Charley and Pen. As it usually goes with people with similar interests, we fell into easy conversation talking about what we loved the most: bicycles.

We know that people like this exist: women who brave the streets of Metro Manila everyday to get to the office or school or for leisurely pursuits, despite the obvious challenges and risks. We knew that there were other women who are as passionate about bicycles as you are. But outside of our little group of friends, we've never talked about cycling in the city. We introduced ourselves, how we got into biking, why we do it, the risks and challenges of cycling in the city. When you do something so often, you forget that what you're doing is something special. That day was a much-needed reminder.

The afternoon was getting late, still we kept talking.

Lei, Pen, Tina, Julia, Nitya, Mia. Photo c/o Charley

This was part of Rappler's feature on #SHEroes for International Women's Month. The article can be found here. You can check out our video here:

The Rest of Myanmar: Bagan and Inle Lake

The Rest of Myanmar

The first few days felt like no time passed between our previous Southeast Asia trip and this one. The roads are still flat, hot and dusty. The days are still long and the language barrier can be frustrating. Also, the lack of English characters ANYWHERE drove us nuts. We don't know where we are or how far we have to go, just relying on GPS and paper maps.

We passed by temples where ladies stand on either side of the road clanging metal buckets. Apparently it's their way of asking for donations. Cars speed by and people just throw money out the window, which the ladies pick up on the road. 

Locals are incredibly gentle and hospitable. At our hotel in Okekan, the staff was literally attending to our every move. They volunteered to bring all our bags, including helmets and water bottles to our room. They carried our bikes for us and even volunteered to wash our clothes. No matter how much we protested that we could do everything on our own, they wouldn't have any of it. Also, we were having lunch at a mini carinderia at the side of the road and one of the locals ended up paying for our entire meal!

The language barrier can be quite frustrating but because the locals are too eager to help, they end up crossing these barriers for us. After I injured my knee on day 1, I decided to take the bus to Pyay to rest for a couple of days. Thankfully, LA agreed to join me. While trying to flag a bus, we didn't really need to do much. We sat by the side of the road as the locals took charge. They stopped every bus headed to Pyay and made sure we found a bus that had enough cargo space for our bikes.

From Where I Sat

I injured my knee after riding 107 kms on the first day. I felt sharp pain on the outside of my left knee that I could barely bend it. It got so bad that I had to take a bus on day 2 to Pyay and stay there for a couple of days to recuperate. Luckily enough, I wasn't alone as LA decided to accompany me. It was a pretty tremendous blow as all sorts of negative things crept into my head.

Is this it?
Is this the end of my bike life?
What will happen if I can't ride anymore? 
Will I become sedentary for the rest of my days?

My confidence was shattered and I felt absolutely useless. The pain was excruciating, but there was nothing else I could do, but rest and hope for the best. Those 4 days helped immensely. I was taking ibuprofen, bandaging my knee, and using a beer bottle as a foam roller to massage all the tight muscles. I was raring to ride but worried how much mileage my knee could take. We finally left Pyay on January 1.

The new year meant new life for my knee. I was actually able to ride. Gently at first, that LA and I were too far behind Pen and Levi. Then slowly, I became stronger and more confident in the succeeding days. The rest days must have done wonders for my mental health too, as I appreciated the solitude during these long and slow days biking along the barren landscape.

Most days, before Pen and Levi get too far ahead, I whip out my camera and snap mindlessly. Other days though, we are all at a leisurely pace and I can take photos without huffing or mashing my pedals. This never lasts long. We exchange a few sentences, barely enough to be called a conversation, then the wind picks up or we shift gears, and then they're gone.

The light from Kalaw to Inle Lake was the best that we had. Everything else was harsh, bright, and dusty.

Myanmar: Scenes from Nowhere

We saw animals. Lots of them. We didn't see much of anything else. We were almost frightened at the lack of rest stops along the way and that we would run out of water.

On one lucky day, a truck honked at us and we thought he wanted us to get out of the way. He flagged Levi down and handed him a 1.5L bottle of water.

We drank soda. Lots of it. We don't drink it in Manila, but Royal and Sprite became very good friends.

And the sun was so so bright. We didn't sweat much, but the intense glare made us imagine things. Pen regularly heard the Cornetto jingle.

The road signs drove us crazy. The route markers were in Burmese characters so we had no idea about the distance to our next destination. LA had his GPS and we always had a rough idea at the end where we should be at the end of the day. But seeing route markers and not knowing, well, it wasn't much fun.

After a while though, we gave up and accepted our fate. We'll always end up somewhere.

     

Burma by Bicycle

How does one take decent group selfies on a Go Pro while biking?

December 25, 2014 - January 12, 2015. Pen, Levi, LA and I traveled to Myanmar on our bikes and completed a 17-day bike tour around the country. This trip takes place in two phases. Phase One of the trip started from Yangon then made our way to Bagan. Phase Two was more spontaneous, where we took the bus from Bagan to Kalaw, and rode our bikes from there to Inle Lake/Nyaung Shwe town.

Let’s get a few things out of the way.