Paddling Hard


I got onto my Santa Cruz mountain bike and looked towards the jungle. It was going to be a 12 km cycling journey, and all I needed was brut energy from my end to push end. My happy disposition has always been evident, knowing that I am going to spend my Monday morning training for my triathlons. It is a simple aspiration that has brought me a lot of joy.

I have to cycle up-hill to get deep into the bowels of the jungle, where mountain bikers of all shapes and colours come to congregate, like a gathering of male peacocks showing off their brightly groomed feathers. Surrounding these unusual creatures would be the numerous trails of bends that creaks to the sound of jamming disc brakes made by the bicycles on steroids.

I love the whole experience, more so when I can feel my muscles doubling down to make the next 5 km; inching me closer towards my weekly goal.