• A measurement of 44-36-40 doesn't refer to the latest Playboy centerfold, but that new gear ratio you were considering for your Trek.


• A PowerBar starts tasting better than a Snickers.


• You wear your heart rate monitor when having sex.


• You're too tired for hanky-panky on a Friday night but pump out a five-hour century on Saturday.


• You have stopped even trying to explain to your spouse why you need two bikes...you just go buy another one and figure it will all work out in the divorce settlement.


• You buy your crutches instead of renting.


• You see nothing wrong with discussing the connection between hydration and urine color.


• You find your DMT carbon shoes to be more comfortable and stylish than your Gucci loafers.


• You have more money invested in your bike clothes than in the rest of your combined wardrobe.


• You see a fit, tanned, Lycra-clad young woman ride by, and the first thing you check out is her bicycle.


• Despite all that happy hour fat you put on, you'll skim weight by buying lightweight carbon components.


• You use wax on your chain, but not on your car.


• Your bike has more miles on its computer then your car's odometer.


• You wear your bike shorts swimming.


• You have more bike jerseys than dress shirts.


• You take your bike along when you shop for a car - just to make sure the bike will fit inside.


• You clean your bike(s) more often then your car.


• You're a committee member for a Bike Club.


• You can't seem to get to work by 8:30 AM, even for important meetings, but you don't have any problems at all meeting your buddiess at 5:30 AM for a hammerfest.


• You can tell your spouse with a straight face, that it's too hot to mow the lawn and then bike off for a century.


• You hear someone had a crash and your first question is "How's the bike?"


• You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends who are addicted to cycling.

Dear Big Bro,

I recently went for a job interview in Shah Alam. I was pretty confident as my CV looked strong. Tt matches with the job description sent to me by my headhunter friend. Shah Alam is in another country but I am willing to travel. There are no pubs there but on the bright side, this would mean a healthier lifestyle and in turn equals better time on the bike.

All was good until I stepped into the interviewer’s office. There it was. It has always been my undoing. It has made me lose focus and impaired my judgment countless times in the past.

There it was, my huckleberry...The Cleavage.

I am dumbfounded why a woman’s cleavage has such an impact on me. I consider myself fairly experienced and modern when it comes to women and sex. I have successful platonic relationships with many attractive women. I should be unperturbed and poised when face with a woman’s cleavage and her little pendant, perched rather snugly on it.

Yet I behaved like a man marooned on a deserted island for the last 32 years. I kept talking to her cleavage during the interview. I probably wouldnt be able to remember her face if I meet her again elsewhere. I am pretty sure half the things I said were crap. My attraction for superior women i.e., smarter, stronger, braver and more powerful than me didn’t help either.

After an hour of conversing with her chest, the interview ended and she said she’ll get back to me. I have been an interviewer many times before to speculate that an hour of interview is not a bad thing. But if I am the interviewer, I wouldn’t hire me. My guess is that I was there for a long time because she found my company pretty amusing. It can be rather flattering to be the object of desire and lust.

So Big Bro, can you help me out. How can I get rid of my fetish?

Yours truly,

Roadie

*** 

Dear Roadie,

Writer’s Column is a highly respectable column on socio-politics in South East Asia. This column does not cover sex related issues. Since your problem is cleavage, may I suggest you create one of your own by means of surgery or magic lotion (see advert on terrestrial TV after 11pm for details) and you will be contented 24/7 and spare the readers your grief.  

Regards,

Karim Raslan

The following are breakdown of event in numerical order. 

1. Quick cold shower


2. Apply deodorant to armpits


3. Wear heart rate strap on chest


4. Squeeze into cycling bibs (yeah yeah yeah like the one worn by wrestlers)


5. Squeeze into asphyxiating lycra top (always a size too small. the mind is in denial and living in the past when buying)


6. Pick matching Oakleys & cycling cap


7. Pick matching gloves, shoes & socks


8. Wear watch/heart rate monitor


9. Check tyre pressure.


10. Pump both tyres to the right pressure. No peace of mind if it is not exactly 125Psi. It’s the same uneasy feeling like wondering if you have switch off the telly when going away for a 2-week holiday.


11. Lubricate chain.


12. Check bike computer and sensor


13. Fill chilled water in water bottle


14. Mobile phone, Ventolin inhaler and mini ipod in back pocket.


15. Push bike out of the house


16. Close the gate


17. Select playlist on iPod and tweak to get the right sound volume


18. Clip right foot on the right pedal


19. Rain starts to fall


20. Open the gate


21. Push bike back in, cussing along the way


22. Leave trail of shoes, gloves, socks, cap, jersey, bibs, heart rate strap and inhaler all the way to the fridge


23. Eat 4 Dunkin donuts in frustration.


24. Wash it down with a mug of Nescafe


25. Reach out to the remote to channel surf


26. Rain stops


27. Wail out loud

P.s., if the subject title sounds weird, the blame goes to le translator on Microsoft Word

A friend text messaged me this earlier;

Is it possible for a man and woman to be best friends without ending up sleeping with each other?

I am not really kosher to answer this question but I guess it is possible. Rare as albino tigers though.

This makes me wonder how my ex-best friend (ex because she left the land of belacan & ten dollar dvd for the land down under) is doing? The feeling I have for her is strange. I love her more than a friend but not like a lover. To know that she is doing well and happy where she is gives me a deep sense of joy. Really odd come to think of it because I am selfish and conceited normally not like that.

And my reply;

Only one way to find out – The Weekend Perhentian Getaway Test 

Why is love elusive for some and easy to come by for others?

I was having dinner with her in a rather romantic setting but yet I was feeling rather detached and dare I say, lonely (A bit of Before Sunrise influence ere'). Why can’t I like her more? She’s pretty, smart, intelligent and kind woman. There are many around in this city but not easy to find one that fancies me. And I ain’t no Tom Cruise. So I should really thank my lucky stars but instead I struggle to sustain any form of interest.

I should be kind and tell her how I truly feel but that would surely mean the end of our friendship. I would stand to be the losing party because of my inability to be on my own. If I were to follow my conscience every time, I would be better off becoming a monk and adopt a cat. Crude as it may sound, a cyclist need TLC and sex.

Though she sense something is lacking, the status quo may be construed as hope. Unfortunately, filler would be a better word. How foolish can I be? Reject the ones who love me and passionately pursue the ones that use me. Later on I’d bump into the former and would kick myself for being a fool.

What I really should be doing is looking at things from a more humbling angle. Who would want to put up with my fickle, insecure, self-absorbing, selfish sorry arse? What can I offer? Company, humour, decent sex (sometimes!) and monogamy, would that do? Probably not.             

I saw a young couple seated at the bar celebrating Valentine’s. They looked to be in their teens. Young, carefree and in love with reckless abandonment. I felt like strangling myself with my tie. Fortunately for me, it’s an Armani.

The TV Smith entry metaphorically speaking is like being in a dinner party and has some idiot physically half your size makes a lewd comment indirectly to you. You react by telling him to go fuck himself. You wouldn’t react if he is of the same size because the ensuing tiff is not worth the time and effort. It was that simple really. I got all sorts of emails, from being called a narrow minded classless fascist to offers to join right wing political party. We don’t have to get into political correctness, nationalism, race, goddess (i.e., Dina Zaman) bashing, class & popularity etc unless of course we are a bunch of idealistic, pot smoking college students with time on our hands.  Why? Because it doesn’t change anything.

The only thing that matter is me, me, me, me, ME and me.

I feel completely burned out after riding 400+km on the ridiculously hot coastal road of N9 and Malacca. I’ve got a sore butt, legs filled with lactic acid and my face looks like I’ve just survived the Sahara. My Suunto recorded a road temperature of 43.5°C. I better start living a pious life if hell is this hot.  

Okay. Actually that was not my grievance.  On Day 2, I got dropped by the only woman in the peloton. She smoked me twice on an inferior bicycle e.g., non-italian ! What the *&#$@sacrilege@*#^%fu lat!@%^!!. I felt distraught and thought I was down in the gutter, i.e., things could not get any worse. But on Day 3, I lost whatever goodness left in me. I drafted and sat in the slipstream behind her, refusing to share the workload all the way to the end. Just like the old guy who stepped over a little girl to get to the life raft in the movie Titanic. That ride took the juice out of her. She couldn’t recover to ride Day 4. I must say that woman is something else. She got heaps of mental strength, grit and determination. I fall way below the bar set by her but I made up for it with unadulterated evil.

Before I get emails accusing me of being classless sexist pig, let me tell you that I would have done the same to anyone who I think I can pull it off regardless of sex, race, colour, weight, muscle mass and VO2max lung capacity.

Today is Valentines Day, even Starbucks are overcharging. They are selling those VD toys at the counter. I think it’s a stuffed Teddy Bee wearing ‘Bee My Valentines' t-shirt for RM100 each. Assassin! Assassin!     

For this loOooong Chinese New Year holiday, I had two choices for a much welcomed break. Ahh.. what is life without choices.

Option #1 - Perhentian Island Getaway With Good Mates.

1. I will get a free ride in a big Italian car with rear seat air con vents to Perhentian and back.


2. I will be with great company,


3. I will have excellent conversations,


4. I will have fun and laughter;


5. There’s the wonderful sun and the gorgeous sea;  


6. I will be sipping cold beer while lying on the beach


7. I will feast on seafood barbecue by the beach


8. There will be many bikini clad young women…

Option #2 – Three-Day Cycling Orgy With Cycling Club.

1. I will have to get my fat arse on the saddle and cycle over 150km every day,


2. My fat arse will get left behind by the peloton and end up cycling alone for 130km,


3. When cycling alone and feeling sorry for myself, stray dogs/junkyard dogs/deprived alpha-male monkeys will come out of nowhere and have a go at me,


4. The scorching sun, 90% humidity and the diesel fumes from big lorries,


5. Lonely and sexually deprived lorry drivers trying their luck with out of shape/breath cyclist who is miles behind the peloton,


6. Arrive at destination looking like roasted chicken and close to having heat stroke,


7. Spend the rest of the day in some cheap run down Rumah Tumpangan (motel) in some small obscure god forsaken village,


8. Absolutely nothing to do and food is nasty,


9. The butt of the joke all day for coming in last & a billion mosquitoes at night,


10. Will then bath in bleach in the morning after sleeping on dodgy mattress,


11. Repeat 1 – 10 for day two and three.

Being the sadistic git that I am, I have chosen Option #2. I wonder what is the going hourly rate for a shrink this days..

Opting to end up like this....

Than be surrounded   fun loving friends....

The tour ended yesterday at Dataran Merdeka. What a (amateur) cyclist to do now? The winner is Ryan Cox of Team Barloworld seen below in the yellow jersey (leader’s jersey) with his teammate. Both Ryan Cox and Theroadie uses the same bike. Cox got second last year when Team Barloworld were riding Colnagos. … Go De Rosa Go… hehehe..

It is tradition to push the tailend of the peloton up (or the backmarkers) the brutally steep Genting climb. This practice started in the Tour de France and Giro D’Italia. Apart from pushing, we’d pour mineral water on the riders. The race marshall does not make any fuss as it does not effect the race. The heat and humidity is not for the faint hearted.

The next couple of weeks are gonna be hard. There will be lots of insecure (single) people running around town. Ocean Deep who is incapable of being alone is getting desperate. Alarm bells are ringing in his head; he is now resorting to Starbucks and Hard Rock Café to find potential dates (gulp!). Worse of all he wants me to accompany him.

Look mate, two blokes in their 30s going to Starbucks in the same car is GAY.  

Soros is not worried at all; he has mastered the art of going to a nightclub on VD and picking up extremely drunk (and lonely) single women. Mistakes will be made on VD. A few people will inadvertently end up sleeping with their best friends.

Roadie has made many blunders in the past VDs and is determined to stay out of trouble this time around. Stay home and they’ll call you a lonely sod, go out to the club and they’ll call a drunk lonely sod. You cannot win.

It is easy to spot single women. They are the ones that laugh the loudest, the most energetic dancers, and the ones that drink the most. And the guys, we will just be sleazier than usual on VD.

The following are Roadie’s VD lessons learned.

1. Do not go out with a group of young women to a club. You will come back home (alone) with a hole in your pocket/wallet/Visa card.


2. Pretend to forget VD and you will not have sex with your partner. Ever.


3. Candlelight dinner, flowers and chocolate does not guarantee sex.


4. When somebody says they are happy being single and independent, they actually meant to say they are lonely and in denial especially if they are women.


5. When in a relationship, prepare to part with RM400-RM500.


6. Going out with a group of blokes to a happening joint is committing social suicide.


7. Do not go on a blind date on VD no matter how desperate or lonely you are.


8. When in a relationship, the old diarrhea excuse to avoid VD does not work. Ever.


9. All restaurants & florists are out to rip you off. No point resisting.


10. Do not wear red shirt or you’ll be mistaken for a waiter anywhere you go.


11. You dont look cool and macho standing alone at the bar and no woman (sane or otherwise) will come up to you and give you her number. Ever.