MINE is the most basic of all bicycles; a light green 'Jasper' with a huge, black basket protruding out front like a puckered lip.

Dragging it to the OCBC Cycle Singapore race on Sunday got me a few 'Are you kidding me?' looks from some fellow bikers, most of who were sporting the latest models.

But, I was determined to take part in the event and stood stoically for my 20 kms community ride, rolling the amused glances off my back.

That confidence came, however, only after I had spent a whole hour deciding whether to quit the race.

I had reached the F1 pit building, the starting point of the event, early. The long-distance marathoners for the 40 kms ride were just warming up for their flag-off, and being a curious soul, I sneaked as near to them as I could to savour the experience.  

The bikers had all come dressed for the occasion. They wore an ensemble of latest body-hugging outfits, sported sleek sunglasses, had bottles of various, coloured liquids strapped around them and had timers attached to their bikes. 

I was in awe.  

Me, in my long, shabby T-shirt and ankle length jogging trousers stood out like, let's say, an idiot in a land of geniuses.

It was also the first time I was witnessing such a huge congregation of bicycle enthusiasts, so thoroughly professional about the event, that I felt it somehow robbed the marathon of its "fun" element.

As I stood on the sidelines admiring the various state-of-the-art bikes, I noticed from the corner of my eye, a handsome guy walking up to me just as the marathoners were to be flagged off. My heart skipped a beat in anticipation. 

As butterflies fluttered in my stomach, he spoke: "Excuse me, I left my timer in my bag. Can I go back to fetch it?"

I was disappointed, but not as much as I was embarassed that he thought I was a volunteer at the venue.

"I dunno," I mumbled, as he quipped a quick 'Oh', walking away, realising I was not a part of the organising team. Must've been my long T-shirt, I thought. 

It dampened my spirit. It was difficult enough to get a cabbie to ferry me to the venue. My simpleton bike was weighing on my mind, and now this.

I sighed. Maybe I should just get out of here before I embarass myself more, I thought. 

As I sat contemplating, I heard a thud. One of the swanky bikers, warming up for his race, fell off his bike right near my feet. The red-faced teenager quickly cursed and kicked his racer-bike as though it was the bike's fault. 

I smiled in my head, looked reassuringly at my Jasper, and readied myself to participate in my first cycle marathon.

"All community riders please gather at the starting point," I heard the host calling over the microphone. "Doesn't matter if your bike is not worth S$5,000, the important thing is participation," he said.

I was aghast. Was he talking to me? Was he a mind-reader?? Could he feel my quandary???

His words were the final push I needed. 

I finished my race in one hour and 25 mins, stopping just once for water at the East Coast. On my return journey, I spotted many a tired soul, struggling to live up to the challenge, despite their ultra-modern toys.

A smiled crossed my lips; and I crossed the finish line to the cheers and claps of complete strangers applauding a feat accomplished.  

As I headed home, having achieved what I had set out to do, I was happy for myself - Finish the race, don't come in last.

I gave my bicycle a quick pat on the seat for getting me past the ribbon. I also realised that victory comes not because of accessories we own, but because of the tenacity we display - in addition to the talent we possess. 

Having said that, I think I am going to myself a spiffy new accessory next year! (Wink!)