A Pinoy Biker’s Philippine Rural Adventures

Now, this is not just about biking, but rather about a particular biker I have started to know just about the same month last year. We came to know each other last year during the marshal’s training rides for the 2006 8th annual Tour of the Fireflies. Marshals act as the tour’s “security guards” making sure that all bikers are safe within the peloton. Last year’s participants were estimated to be around 4,000 bikers of all ages, gender and biking experiences. The tour this year will be on April 15, 2007 and more are expected to join.

The marshal’s training rides is a series of rides designed to familiarize each biker marshal with the route, terrain and traffic conditions during the tour itself. Each aspiring marshal is expected to complete at least 3 such rides in order to qualify.

I was expecting this friend to be in the first training ride but he wasn’t there, so I asked about him from the ride leader on that day. He told me that he was having dialysis for the past week or so, that’s why he wasn’t able to attend. I was really surprised since he seemed so healthy and without any worries the last time I saw him about 3 months before. I emailed him to ask what has happened to him. His response shocked me, as he said that his dialysis was over and now he is undergoing chemotherapy. He has cancer. I responded by sharing with him my own bout with a heart ailment that has been hounding me since 7 years ago. I already had a heart attack in 2004 and had angioplasty last January 2006. I actually took up biking to improve my health and this has up to now sustained my need for cardiovascular exercise. He took my words as an encouragement for him to get out of the bed and start riding again. Apparently, he has stopped biking because the dialysis and chemotherapy he has been undergoing left him debilitated and easily fatigued even by any slight physical activity. He emailed me saying that he would be joining us in the next training ride. I was glad but quite apprehensive if he would be able to make it.

He did make it the following Sunday. As before, he was in his usual battle gear, complete with a full face helmet. I saw him biking through the down ramp of the entrance to the parking lot where our group meets, and the first thing I noticed was that he has lost a lot of weight and when he removed his helmet, the telltale bald head. I hugged and welcomed him. The usual pleasantries followed until I asked him how his strength was, knowing that chemotherapy zapped one’s strength. He said that he skipped his chemo for the week so he could join us. He said this with such a cheerful face that you would think he was talking about skipping a dose aspirin to relieve pain. I expressed my concern but he just shrugged and asked me to be his ride buddy and look after him just in case. He promised though, that he would try to finish the ride as long as his strength allows him. He had a cane bound to the top tube of his bike, just in case he needs one. I knew he lives in Paranaque, about 20 to 25 kms south of where we were and I asked him if he biked all the way from there. No, he said. It turned out that he is temporarily staying with his mother within the city and she dropped him off in a nearby mall from where he biked to the meeting place.

Shortly, we started to bike out of the parking space to the main road. My usual place was in the middle of the peloton, but it’s also my duty to sometimes go to the front or the back to monitor the other newbies and give instructions on what to do. But now, most of the time I stayed with my friend, ready to assist him if he needs any help. The pace was around 10 to 12 km/h so it was always an easy and leisurely ride. There are slight uphill climbs along the route but all of us hurdled the first few of them. Along the way, we made several stops to regroup and each time I could see that my friend was starting to get tired. The ride usually takes around 4 hours to complete and at the halfway point, my friend looked like he was ready to call it quits. After a short rest though, he was raring to go. The third to the last uphill climb was a gentle slope but a long one. I would say it was 2/3 of a kilometer. I positioned myself to be either beside him or behind him, ready to pick him up in case he falls, or push or pull him, whatever was needed to help him reach level ground. Some of the riders around us were not aware of his condition and seeing him struggling to pedal, they shouted encouragement and suggestions on how to overcome fatigue and tiredness. Finally, almost reaching level ground, he stopped. He was tired and exhausted. I immediately dismounted my bike and rushed to his side fearing he would fall. But fortunately he didn’t. I recalled another promise he made at the start, “You would not be picking me up today.” Well, I certainly did not pick him up because he did not fall anyway. Only that he couldn’t continue the ride anymore. We were about 15 kilometers away from the start/finish line. He said he would be calling his sister to pick him up in the family van. He asked me and the rest who stopped with us to continue and catch up with the group. I hesitated to leave him but he reassured me he has already called and the van is on the way to pick him up. I decided to leave him. I thought doing so would still leave him with his pride. He didn’t want anyone to see him defeated in his effort to finish the ride. And so I left him there by the road side and did not look back.

following: the next training ride….