Desperately Seeking Spectator

This morning, I rode on my new road-bike setup. It was my old Orbea Vitesse with carbon Profile Design CX-3: not a good setup where the best bike-fitters are concerned. It was a plea that was answered, with relative contraindications (a term I gleaned from Dr Ben Tan, a leading sports-medicine doctor).

The past week of doing strengthening exercises for my core, mainly the Plank, and Side Plank have helped me settle in well into my the aerodynamic-position. My back felt relaxed, chest open, and breathing was free and fluent.

As was advised by David Greenfield - my bike fitter and owner/founder of Elite Bicycles - I was to ride about an hour to test-drive my new adjustments. Instead, I rode 60km of my expected 90km menu this morning. Once I noted the sensations, comfort level and muscle behavior in my body, I decided to jettison the remaining 30km as my convalescing body sort of 'reminded' me. I bade a fond farewell to the pack of riders, comprising Roger, Aristol, Mervyn and Danny. Tee dropped out as his hunger pangs held him ransom, and he surrendered to a roti prata breakfast.

Tee and I connected on my way back to the race venue of the OSIM International Triathlon. It was Day 2, and the age-groupers were flagged off early for the Olympic Distance. When we arrived, having removed our shoes and carrying our bikes into the spectator area, the veterans were running in from the sea. The sea looked relatively calm, and I hoped that the jellyfish were elsewhere, distracted by what these gelatinous blobs of barbs do.

I continued to cheer for a few familiar faces when Tee left. I chatted with the race emcee, Rosman 'Roz Man' about triathlons. This seven-time, 'voice of local triathlons' did an impromptu interview with me, ending with a cheeky 'Yes' when he asked if I was skipped this year's race because I was getting old! I shared with him some fragments of trivia, including MP Teo Ser Luck's 1,500m swim time (which I optimistically put at about 24 minutes; Teo came in at about 26 minutes), age grouper profiles, and my recent accident. I cringed when he announced to the crowd the cost of my damaged bike. I was hoping to catch my friend, Byron Nifakis and I did - running from the sea, on his bike mount, and after his first loop of the ride. I trust he has a good race as he looked in fine form and in good spirits.

I learnt again that playing spectator is hard; the sun was basking in full glory. We had to refocus our eyes over three events, and the visual montage of lycra-wrapped, glistening bodies whizzing past on their incredible machines at breakneck speeds. I suddenly felt like racing; so, I rolled my iron zebra away and rode home.

Now I know why I race: spectating is hard work, and requires a different set of motivations.