I’ve been waking up at 5:30 a.m. every weekday for so long that I can’t even remember when I first set that ungodly alarm on my iPhone. It’s been my reality for so long that I half-suspect it was a feature on the first iPhone. Just in case my body ever stages a rebellion, I have a backup alarm at 5:45 a.m.—a final, desperate safety net to ensure I get out of bed.
I’m a morning person. There’s something oddly reassuring about waking up and realizing you didn’t die in your sleep. A new day brings untold possibilities—and in Malaysia, surprisingly crisp and pleasant mornings that briefly trick you into forgetting you live in a sweltering sauna.
I rise early to cycle. More often than not, I find myself zigzagging the same roads near my house like a lost GrabFood rider who never learns. Usually, I’m deep into the latest podcast episode, catching up on news and events as I pedal. Nothing quite beats listening to Joe Rogan bro-ing out with a conspiracy theorist while I heroically battle a hill that refuses to acknowledge my efforts.
I love my morning rides. By the time I’m done, I usually roll back through my front gate just in time to see the school van arrive for my daughters. Occasionally, this grants me the perfect opportunity to wave goodbye and thoroughly humiliate them. Their schoolmates stare, either horrified or fascinated, at the sight of a dad-bod man in lycra shorts and a cycling jersey that fashion peaked in a previous decade.
And just like that, my day begins.