Like every morning, I made a soy latte which I drank as I got ready. Preparations include the application of lots of sunscreen, factor 30 on the body and 60 on the face. By 8am the sun can already be scorching, so I always make sure I’m well protected and wear sunglasses.
Usually I drive a motorbike down to the beach. But as I have yet to pick up my rental since coming back from Switzerland, I took my mountain bike instead. Today was actually its Bali debut. It had been damaged in the shipping and sat broken for months while I awaited the outcome of the insurance settlement. Only last week, Komang, one of the gardeners, took it to a nearby shop for repairs. While it runs well now, both the seat and handlebars are way too low for comfort. Who knew the repair shop would reconfigure the bike to accomodate a short Balinese person? Still for the short ride to the beach, I can tolerate it.
Even in the very early morning, Jalan Drupadi is already buzzing with motorbike riders on their way to work. It’s a narrow road with some very sharp bends, so it takes skill to navigate. The biggest challenges are the massive potholes that seem to grow larger by the day.
When they fill up with water you have no sense of how deep they are. Some segments of road contain an array of multifarious depressions leave only a narrow sliver of road that can barely accommodate a motorbike tire. As I’m not an experienced motorbike driver, these sections scare me.But this morning it was easy to forge through the gnarly bits with my mountain bike.
After a short ride, I can see the beach and the crashing waves. There’s a small parking lot where I lock my bike and re-tie my running shoes. It has rained a lot in the last few days, so the beach is in its usual rainy season disarray. The shoreline is dotted with plastic refuse. They say it’s garbage from Java that gets washed up with the wind. (The Balinese like to blame everything on Java.) All I know is that if I was a tourist I would be completely disgusted. But I'm quite used to it and barely notice anymore. As I’m wearing sneakers, I am not as bothered as those who like to run bearfoot.
I almost always head left in the direction of Kuta. While it’s much prettier to go in the opposite direction, the beach is flatter on the Kuta side which makes for more pleasant running. Every morning there are already lots of people, mostly locals. The scene includes parents and kids, line fisherman, surfers, hawkers, groups practicing martial arts or playing soccer, expats walking their dogs, and other runners and walkers. There's usually one crew of beach cleaners armed with rakes, picking up one pile of muddy plastic pieces at a time.
My route is very simple: I run until I feel like turning around. The sound of the crashing waves paces me as I dodge pieces of garbage. I smile at my fellow runners and oggle the surfers. It doesn’t take long before I work up a sweat. Those mornings when the sun is shining I can’t last more than 20 minutes before wanting to faint. These cloudy rainy season days I manage 1/2 hour, at which point I am completely drenched.
There are few landmarks that stick out for me on my route. One is the distant shopping mall, an eyesore at the end of Kuta beach. My goal is to be able to run there and back without fainting. Another is the the bungy jumping tower near the Double Six club. As it’s near to my starting point, I use it to chart my progress after I turn around. The other is the Balinese stone gate which marks the entrance to a hotel. My ex and I used it as our entrypoint to the beach in the first few weeks after I moved to Bali. (We were staying at a guesthouse someplace behind it). I feel a twinge every time I see it, as it reminds me of my last love.
Depending on how much time I have, I usually spend time walking off my run, stretching as I go. If there's not much garbage, I might even take my sneakers off.
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