We had an internal training last week at work and our facilitator asked me to post this online. I just remembered it now, haha.
Every Tuesday and Thursday evenings, I run around Ateneo for my fitness. What happened on the third of May was a slightly different form of exercise, however. For starters let’s just say it involved life and death.
I arrived around 5:30 PM at our place in La Vista that day. I immediately changed int o my running attire and performed some warm-up stretches. As I went out of our home (through the back door), I noticed an old but sturdy-looking mountain bicycle slumped against a nearby wall. It has a red paint on it, as well as few rusty areas (particularly near the handle). Seeing it made me immediately miss my very own MTB back at Bulacan, Firebolt. Without any second thinking, I decided to bike around La Vista that night instead of running around Ateneo.
The bike’s seat was very inviting and I readily rode on it. I drove my first course uphill along Mangyan St.. I pedaled to my heart’s content and I enjoyed feeling the cold winds sweep to my body. I neared Loyola Grand Villas when the slope directed downwards. I prepared myself to reduce my speed by grasping on the brakes. But alas, my speed won’t decrease! I tried to press harder but it won’t work. I was already on a downhill traverse and my bike picked up speed due to the pull of gravity.
It was then that I realized that the bike’s brakes were broken. Fear got ahead of me and my first reaction was to reduce speed by letting my left foot touch the cemented ground. The friction was not enough though, but it somehow delayed my further plummeting. Eventually I reached LGV and I decided to go back home instead. The route back home was steadily downhill this time (save for the first few meters). I proceeded with caution. Yet, I was not afraid as compared to a few moments ago. In fact I actually enjoyed riding at fearful, un-brake-able speeds.
When I got back home, I felt euphoria for having survived a hellish ride. Subconsciously (yeah, I am claiming a 50% conscious responsibility haha), I went out of La Vista and proceeded to UP-Diliman. Slopes were likewise present in the said area and my bike throttled at breakneck speeds again. Jeepneys and other vehicles were there to add to my death threat list. I just shrugged and proceeded touring the whole campus. I got out and circled Katipunan Ave. afterwards, passing by Ateneo for a short visit. I went back home right after — safe and unscathed.
Total time at the edge of the cliff of death: three hours.
That has got to be my craziest, wildest, most dangerous bike ride I ever experienced. I actually enjoyed it — yeah even at the brink of life and death. And did I mention i almost bumped into a police car along the way? But that may need another piece of paper (or in this case, blog entry) for documentation purposes.