Initially, I was a big fan of Strava (an app to record your workouts), as it’s one of the few social apps used by both friends in China and the Netherlands — and it also felt like an extra push to cycle a bit more. But I quickly found out I was turning into exactly the kind of rushed cyclist who gives cyclists a bad reputation, one who doesn’t want to stop at traffic lights or slow down in busy areas, because — oh, that influences my average speed! Before starting a route, I’d tell myself that I wouldn’t care about the numbers, but while cycling, those intentions were always thrown aside, and I’d be pushing still. A 24.8 km/h average should be 25 km/h. A 2h5m finish should be under 2h. A route I did before should now be faster. Worst of all, I’d stop taking random alleys and stop to take a look. I’d rush past all those things waiting to be explored.

Maybe there’s no right or wrong, because there are positives about recording your ride. Plus it’s true that you want different things in different phases of your life. But I’m so done optimising every aspect of mine.

I’d follow Twitter accounts that’d say things like you need to surround yourself with friends who are successful, who push you to grow. Those people may be useful — but that’s not the definition of friends. I’d set a high Goodreads goal and read business books to improve my career. I’d listen to podcasts while driving, cycling, or cooking — trying to use every last second out of my day.

But all I did was totally squeeze every bit of air out of my brain and never have time to reflect on anything. I would have many thoughts, but none of my own.

I didn’t use Strava today. I’m cycling on the edge of Pudong, listening to a fictional radio station with songs from the 80s; FlashFM from GTA: Vice City, a game that I played as a young teenager. And I stop every few minutes and that is all I care about.

I see a caravan parked in a garden, a road full of parked cars, all with non-Shanghai plates, a roadside grocery store, and a stand serving breakfast that I wouldn’t trust for my weak stomach. I climb across two fences to stand on the banks of the Yangtze.

These aren’t big adventures, but they don’t need to be.

In Vice City, I always loved exploring more than doing missions, just to drive around and looking at the variety of places. And what I’m doing now, 20 years later, isn’t too different.