riding in place

"One week."

"What?" I said.

"Give me one week. Promise me you won't do anything for one week. No job hunting. No looking at schools. Just give yourself time off. Be with your family. Don't think about work."

"I don't think I could do one week."

"Promise me!"

"Okay, okay."

It's been one month. I have filled up countless application forms and wrote and edited (and rewrote and re-edited) my resume and curriculum vitae over and over again for different jobs in communication, research, teaching, development-- anything that I had any sort of experience in my eight years of working.

My Masters degree and research experience in Canada must account for something, right?

And then I look at the qualifications and skillsets needed for a particular job and I question myself. Am I really cut out for this?

I send them anyway, full of confidence that I will be contacted immediately. I daydream mindlessly.

I look at gray skyscrapers in Makati and Ortigas and watch the morning commute from my bike and ask myself, Can I actually do that? Sit in an office from 9-5, join the morning madness, rant about the daily commute and our crappy transportation system and our traffic and pollution.

I look at teaching positions at the high school and collegiate level and gulp. Teaching gives me such joy and I am good at it, so it would be nice to do that again, right?

And then I fill up applications for Singapore and Hong Kong. I shake my head as I click "Submit application." Haven't I learned anything from working/studying abroad?

I check my email everyday. I don't hear from them. Then my insecurities and worries rise up. I reread my applications, checking if I mistyped my email address or mobile number.

There must be something out there, right?

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!"