Editor's Note (as if there were one, just wanted it to sound cool lol) : This is coming out a tad bit late, ran into a combination of an extended blogging slump and a Bora weekend combined. Pardon the overall crummyness.
Racing in the South is always fun. Not too many people, fat chance you could even nab a podium on a good day. My too- few- and-far-in-between South races have always been pleasant experiences, thus joining RuNew in Alabang was somewhat of a no-brainer.
Not-So-Chump Change
Was looking for a race to test my knee out in a competitive setting, and I didn't really know too much about it except that it was sponsored by Asian Hospital and that it was for some charity. I thought it was a small-time race until I left with a bib, a timing chip, and P600 less in my pocket. A Rio race as it turns out. The timing chip instantly conjured visions of cash flying out of my wallet. Much to my chagrin, there was no singlet given but was instead promised a finisher's shirt. Grumble.
Babay P600.
Of Seguristas and Bratinellas
I came from the Subic International Triathlon with Ultramarathoner Abby the day before, just cheered on some friends while grabbing some multisport inspiration. Was dead tired as we made the trip to the duuurty South. Coming off my unacceptable tardiness at Nat Geo, I wasn't going to take any chances this time.
Got there with an hour to burn more or less. While trolling the premises, saw elites Junrox/Tigerboy and a healthy Alfred/El Kyoshi walking in the shadows. More walking brought this random soundbite from this nosy-looking kid emerging from a Portalet :
Bratty Kid : Ewww yuck so kadiri inside Mommy it smells like a tae!Mom : Anak don't say that!Brattu Kid : But mooom! I need to make poopoo na!Mom : Hay nako just hold it till we get home. I still have a race.Bratty Kid : Waaaaah!Mom : Wag na maarte, ano you want sa portalet or in the grass?B ratty Kid : Mommy the grass smells like a tae also!Mom : !!!!
What a brat.
In The Presence of Family
After being a veritable tourist over at the multisport arena, it was nice hanging out in more familiar surroundings where I actually knew someone. I ran into Takbo.ph power couple Jinoe and Que, a retro-looking Marvin along with Z paired with a rare PatCon sighting. Not too many people though. Distance? Price? Still, it was nice to be back in familiar territory.
Fun before the gun
An Outside Chance
Just before the gun went off, I was looking around. No familiar faces. As always, my competitive juices were flowing. Give or take a couple of elites, and with the stronger runners at 16k, I hastened to strive for a top 10 finish. And as the lead pack went off, I found myself at the tail end. Hey, I have a shot at this. Law of averages. I have to get it one of these days right?
Toe to Toe with Elite Gal
ITB woes exacerbated at the Nat-Geo race have prevented me from executing my master plan of doing "maintenance" 10k training before plunging into an 8-week program for Milo. In short, here I was blatantly out of shape, preparing to race a 10k on sheer guts alone. And as most of us know, oftentimes that just isn't enough.
As I was trailing the lead pack, I did the requisite headhunting to maintain pace. I ran smack into a strong lady runner who had nyort nyorts and that batak 5% body fat look. Hmm. She was impossible to shake off at 4:20 pace. Was thinking, no way she could maintain this. But then again, who said I could maintain it myself? Kapal ko talaga. (I would later learn she would take 3rd for the ladies) Lol. I told myself, I have to want this more than she does. With that pervading thought in mind, I made my move at the 3k mark and made her eat dust. Wohooo!
She ate Gingerbread dust... well, sorta.
On Gassing Amidst Those Southern Rolling Hills
Of course, that short-lived success didn't last long. A continuous uphill stretch and I was a goner a kilometer later, my elite galpal kicking stardust in my face along the way. No wind, no legs. I was gasping like a chubby fugu fish out of water. Fail.
Swim away fugu fish, swim awaaaay. Okay that was weird.
The Duel With MaselMan
Before the race began, I noticed these two buffed-up dudes who looked like Fitness First spinning class instructors with matching singlets to boot. Figured they were, er, best friends. Until they hugged each other good luck. Tightly. Anyway, at one point early on I passed bromance dude #1. During my mid-race fade, bromance dude #2 zoomed by me at what I reckoned to be near-max HR judging by his breathing. He would do a long walk break then go all out again. I surmised that redlining your HR in bursts and spurts would cause you to gas out later on (running strategists please back me up here).
So for about a 2 kilometer stretch, we would go back and forth at it. At least I had some sort of live metronome to salvage whatever remained out of my pace strategy. Nearing Km 7 in posh AAV, I decided to go for it when I sensed he was fading. Score one for the Gingerbread dude.
Bromance City
The Pain and the Agony
The adrenalin was pumping as a persistent foe was vanquished. Slowly hiking the pace back up to a decent (given the course) 4:57 pace, everything was on cruise control primed for an even stronger finish. By my estimate, I was at about 11th to 14th places at this point. Elite gal (who whooped me earlier) was actually within my line of sight. Then a particularly disconcerting sharp pain shot up my left knee. Dang. ITB mode. Ignore. More pain. More ignoring. Finally a stinger had me hopping on one leg in excruciating pain.
Dammit. No way. I worked so hard only to throw it all away. Just 2k to go! I had stretched this all week, even Salonpas rollered it so much to the point that my room already smells like my Lolo's CR. This sucks. Really does. I'll try to run it off. Aaaaaaaaah. Aray. Arouch. Mommmyyy. Oh great bromance dude just passed me. With a smile on his face. Someone kill me now. Maybe I can just roll to the finish line.
ITB Fail. More frustrated than hurt, I gingerly(no pun intended) attempted to jog to the line . I even ran into old buddy Gary who was on the way to finish his 5k. (Ayan nabati na kita bro. Burger ko. Smirk.) Totally dejected, I surrendered the final two splits at 7:40 and 6:41 en route to limping home with a 53:14. I would later see that this effort somehow managed to snag 23rd place in a lean field. Sigh.
Post-Mortem
Overall, the race was a lot harder than I had expected or prepared for, and most of the people who raced it would pretty much agree. The relative humidity was off the charts, people were sweating like a presidential candidate on a live televised debate. Most weren't too thrilled about the finisher's shirt though, saying it was "pambahay " quality (don't shoot the messenger). For a premium priced, chip timed race, I guess they were expecting more, given the absence of a singlet.
On a personal note, it's back to the drawing board. Not only was I out of shape, it's apparent that the ol' ITB is nowhere near 100%. A break is impending. Maybe I'll go to the beach or something.
But I guess what's more important is that I actually made it to the end of this article. Been in a terrible writing slump lately. If you're a basketball fan, I'm pulling off the equivalent of a 4- for- 21 effort. Guess this is a step in the right direction. Law of averages. I have to get it one of these days right?