I had an awesome day and it started out badly.

First off, I had to get up at 3:50AM to make the 5AM ride out. I swear by all that is holy, every time I have to wake up that early, I allot around twenty minutes just convincing myself to actually get up, stop being miserable, and get on the bike.

Second, I had already met up with the group and we were riding out to pick up our buddies at different places en route to the highway, when I realized I had forgotten to wear, or even bring, my gloves. Not great when you're about to go on a 100++ kilometer ride

Third, I flatted twice. The rear wheel first, and an hour later the front wheel. I was so flustered fixing the rear wheel, I installed the tire with the threads on backwards. With only about sixty kilometers to go.

But right now, at the end of this day, I look back and feel euphoria. It's the endorphins for sure, but there's a high to be gotten from just spending a day on the bike with good people.

I love these guys I bike with. And I don't even know them all that well. I'm only starting to know what they do for a living or who they're married to. I don't even have all their mobile numbers. It's all Facebook now. I met them late last year on a invite of a friend, and all the rides I've been on with them have just been body-crushing, soul-lifting adventures. We've biked from Manila to the beach in Nasugbu, and all around the Laguna Bay area. We've gone up around the mountains of Rizal. The rides are hard but the pace is friendly. They're designed around food and beer (while I meekly sip my fruit juice). There's tons of salty banter and everybody emits a happy, can-do vibe. I suspect some of the guys in this group are former hard-core racers, but we have no know-it-alls, and nobody is ever, ever dropped.
 
On today's ride, the heat was punishing, and somewhere towards the end I crumbled liked a stale biscuit, and had to slow-pedal my way back into existence. We finally made it to Clark Air Base and hung out around the the "Air Force Museum," which is sort of an open-air graveyard for old fighter jets.

I lay down on the ground and under a tree, amused that this is me getting all outdoorsy. This was a couple of hours before the ordeal of finding a bus to take us and our bikes back to the city (it was so crowded, the 115 km night ride back to the city was seriously considered, but they'd been drinking by then).

On the grass and in that cool shade, I thought to myself, the gloves didn't matter, sleep could be had later, the wheels held up, I'm glad these guys have my back, and it was truly a good day.