Buddies.

While working on the final touches of A Taste of Rainbow and finalising the thank-you page, I found myself heaving a sigh of relief when I remembered to thank a group of people I never thought of thanking before, and yet, were key to my recovery from clinical depression and anorexia.

I had thanked my family, my friends, the sponsors, the insitution, the church, God, but had forgotten to thank the group of people who probably had the greatest impact on the speed of my recovery.

Special thanks to:

my triathlon and cycling buddies,
who taught how to bike, and to enjoy food and life.

There was nothing and yet, everything spiritual about this. It intrigued me to find myself putting this line in between the lines of thanking my church and God.

When I met Mr. Ho, my ex-college teacher for tea today, he showed me a video. I didn't cry when I watched it, but I cried later that day as I thought about my cycling buddies, and God's timing in healing my leg and bringing the book to a new level of progress at the same time. Mr Ho said, "The thing that I take away from the video is the importance of community. When the man ran past the finish line, he hugged his dad."

I said something different. What I had taken away, was the celebration of the human spirit, but also, a sense of taintedness. Sports has tainted us, because we have assumed its pride and sense of individualism.

Later that day, however, as I pondered over many things while waiting for the train, I found myself surprised at a tiny trickle of tears.

I realised, that Mr. Ho was right, that what triathlon and cycling had given me, was not so much the achievement of the sport, or the glamour or the pride, but really, a sense of community, of belonging and love and cameraderie. And that was what saved me, what gave me confidence and assurance and friendship. The sport gave me a fellowship, a fellowship perhaps as strong or stronger than the church, that protected me from depression, because these people keep bugging me every once in a few days for a run or a ride or a swim. And when I don't show up, they text message, facebook, call me, or show up on my doorstep with flowers or food or just to say hi, can I use your pool? Haha.

They watch out for me when I ride, because I'm not a safe rider. They ride in front of and behind me just so they can look out for cars for me. They turn back when they don't see me. They make sure I enjoy the post-workout food with them. They take me out for icecream and drinks and to places I would otherwise not go. They bought me my new bike.

They don't judge me for my speed. And they don't force me to drink. They train early and so hardly stay up late. They don't make me feel like I don't measure up, even though they're fast and good. It's funny, I probably expose the most amount of flesh when I'm training with them compared to while I'm at work but I feel least self-conscious with them.

I'm really too embarrassed to share this with most of them because they're all big guys, like the macho type, and I know they'd just go like.... huh, okay. Cool.

When I watched the video again, I saw it wasn't his achievement which inspired me, as much as the sense of community and love that surrounded him, not at the end, but during his journey. I realised, that the most beautiful thing about sport, is not human endeavour, or human achievement.

It's human community. That's what saves souls.

Thanks for saving mine. See yall on the ride this Saturday.