Multiple Personalities

You have met the Black Ninja before. He is a fearless runner and is not afraid of rain, cold, or snow. But is scared of “black ice,” for he is not fond of slipping and sliding on icy road. He does not know how to use a samurai sword.

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Then you met the Lone…..ah….er….. the Wrong Ranger. He loves to take a hike and climb mountains. He does not have a horse, and does not know how to ride one. He’ll appear for a photo shoot, only to disappear in the shadows.

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And now, I introduce you to Lance (under)Armstrong. A cyclist wannabe. A slow rider. But is not afraid to get sweaty. The only thing that is “strong” is the “underarm.” He really needs to take his shower.

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What? Who are you calling Dr. Jekyll?

Bike Lane

My tush hurts!

I rode my bike for 20 miles today. This is in preparation, for in 2 weeks, I will be joining the Register’s Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa (RAGBRAI) – an annual 7-day long bicycle ride across the state of Iowa. The total length of the course this year is 468 miles. I heard Lance Armstrong (disgraced or not) will be participating.

No, I’m not doing the whole 7 days, just a 1-day leg of the course. But that is still a 50 miles ride. And to ensure I finish the course without keeling over, I need to do some training.

I already ran a half-marathon (13 miles) race. Three times. Now I’m doing a 50-mile bike ride. I wonder what will be my next physical challenge. Perhaps the triathlon?

Triathlon includes: 1 mile swim, 25 miles bike ride, and 6 miles run. There’s one problem though, I really don’t know how to swim, or at least swim effectively. I don’t think dog-paddling for a mile, will be efficient.

However, my biggest concern with Triathlon is this: if you get tired running, you can stop and walk; if you get tired biking, you can stop pedaling and just cruise along; if you get tired swimming, you can stop, but you drown!

Back to my bike ride today, as I was pedaling my way through roads flanked by vast cornfields, while cars and trucks whizzed past me, images of my childhood and my old bike flashed in my mind. Am I riding down the bike lane or memory lane?

My father bought our “family” bicycle when I was 10 years old. It was a communal bike, but I used it the most. My father taught me how to ride it by holding on the back of the seat, while he ran along (he was a runner!) and I pedal. No training wheels.

Funny, that’s how I taught my son how to ride too. While my daughter learned how to ride on her own without any assistance from me.

I rode our bike through the narrow and busy streets of Manila. I rode it for fun. Though at times I was sent on an errand and rode it. Frequently I would go to my friends’ house in nearby Quezon City, and I would wield my way through bustling streets plied with jeepneys and tricycles, as well as crowded with people.

On rare occasions, while on the bike, I would hold on to the back of a slower moving jeepney to drift along. I realize now that, that was dangerous. What was I thinking? At least I never did stunt jumps with that bike. If it was a BMX bike, I probably would’ve.

When I was in high school, I got tired of its red color, and decided to change it. A friend of mine, whose father repair typewriters, had a compressor in their garage. So my two friends and I pick one hue and spray painted all our bikes with the same color.

What color? Purple! Don’t ask.

When I entered college, I rarely rode our bike again. Maybe because I find it kiddy-ish already. Or perhaps I wish it was more sporty like a racer or a mountain bike with gears. But it’s not. It was a “kid” bike.

But I had much fun with that bike. Lots of good memories too. And painful ones as well – skinned knee and elbow when I fell and crashed.

Now, I have my own grown-up “sporty” bike. It is a hybrid (a cross between a road and mountain bicycle) bike with plenty of gears. Yet I would have not be enjoying riding this bike – in the open road, with sun and wind on my face, if not for that red (or purple) “kid” bike.

As for the pain in my b*tt, I think I should get a fancy padded cycling shorts. For now, I’ll walk like a cowboy.

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my grown-up bike