Image this for a moment. You're travelling to a strange country. It's eerily similar to yours, except that they speak a different language. Some of your friends didn't like their journey, others encouraged you, and there were some who said they were happy there.
You've researched, and know what would be needed for the trip. Life's a adventure to be lived, isn't that right? Arriving there, it's hot, and dusty, and everyone else seems to know what they are doing except for you. Even the directions don't make sense. There's a lot of wandering around in circles, and you're feeling a bit lost. Just as you start to wonder if this is all been a mistake, you remembered a guide book someone had given you. Cracking it open, you skim the pages and begin to pick up a few phrases. Marveling that the street signs seem easier to read, and that things were beginning to make sense. That's how my journey to Word Press has been.
I've been on Blogger for almost 7 years. It's a great platform, and I encourage you to stay there if you're happy with it. This isn't a post about WP versus Blogger, that's a personal choice for each blogger to make. We need to stop telling each other what to do, go, stay, leave, look for something else. I've read that moving to Word Press is a learning curve. There's no doubt there.
I went in circles for much of the day, things looked familiar, and then they seemed to disappear, and pop up somewhere else. But I am figuring it out, bit by bit. And to be honest, I'm loving the process of learning something new to me. "It's not hard, it's just different." For this blogger different is good. I can hardly wait to show you what I am creating for The Light Laughed, it's still a little while off, but it's coming along nicely. Would you, do you, will you, consider moving? Never, maybe, hmmmm not sure, absolutely not? It's a journey, that's for sure.
With the pressure of his gingerbread duties increasing by the day, Gingerbreadman decided just to go away from it all to chill out, lest he implode and flatline like a pancake. The chosen destination was Pearl Farm, located in the durian-infested land of Davao. Will he survive the travails of Northern Mindanao? Will he battle it out with the Abu Sayyaf? With running taking a back seat for the first time in ages, our tale unfolds in the witching hour of a dreary Saturday in Ortigas
Chateau Gingerbread, 4:00 am
*Yawn*. (u_u) Oh lord this is so stupid . Why did they ever create this thing called check in? My flight is at 7:30. Why do I need to get there 2 hours before? Must... sleep... .. sweet sweet bed... I'd wake up this early for race but for a flight? UGH. OH GOD the DOG gave me a LICK on the PECKER. His name is Stroganoff but I should have named him Yuckzilla or Slobbomania. I better get outta here... . Ptooey.
All I ever wanted was to be loved... ...
Somewhere in Edsa, 5:30 am
Tito Caloy : So what airline are you taking?* GBM : Cebu Pacific. Didn't I just tell you that before we left? Tito Caloy : What a crab. GBM: Why shouldn't I, you still owe me 350 bucks from that Mizuno no-show of yours Tito Caloy : Ohhhh, that. Ah, eh, I'll give it to you later, um, all I have are thousand peso bills and I don't wanna break them. GBM: ... ... ..
Tito Caloy : ... ... ...
(awkward silence)
GBM : Ugh,I can break it, I have change... .
Tito Caloy : Aaaaaah... . Yeah of course. Anyway, have I told you of that time when I dated Doc Vicky... ...
GBM : Sigh. This internet celebrity thing is really getting to him... .
* courtesy of Google Translate
70's Casanova here
NAIA Terminal 3, 7 am. Counter Girl in the Coffee Shop where the Chicken Sandwich was horrible.
Hi. You don't need to know my name. It's not that you guys would care . Okay okay for the sake of discussion maybe you could call me something. Call me... Chastity. Anyway, I'm the girl that works the counter here at the fancy coffee place here in NAIA- 3. And everyday, I see people flying out into the great unknown, fulfilling their hopes and dreams. Exploring hitherto undiscovered lands, savoring life to the fullest. How I envy them. Except for this chump. Yeah, the one in the baduy yellow shirt and oversized weird watch. Was never a Kris fan. I thought Phillip Salvador was cute though. What a freeloader. He bought a paltry chicken sandwich and he's been sleeping here for nearly 2 hours. What a loser. I am so tempted to record his snoring and turn it into the next novelty hit for Lito Camo. Oh, the king is awake. Finally going to get some peace and quiet here. But hey, at least he's going somewhere. ... .He just talked to someone on the phone, I presume it's his chick. His voice turned really cheezy. Sigh. At least someone cares for him... .. Pearl Farm. So that's where he's going. I wonder where that is. Hay. One day, I'll get my chance. I'll get my shot ... . Someone will love me and show me the world too... ..
It was so much better when he was seated there...
Boarding Gate. 7:20 am. GBM
Boy, that was the most emo counter girl I've ever seen. Freaky. Too much of that Jake Cuenca/Kim Chiu telenovela. Anyway, we're boarding now. Ouch the dude from Cebu Pacific tripped on the Indian guy's laptop charger. Indian dude is steaming. Which is weird. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around. Boarding time. So many people in masks. A single sneeze sets off an exponential series of leering looks. I should have taken that vitamin C Gingerbread Gal was giving me. *sneeze*
The Swine Flu got em all... ... .
Cebu Pacific Flight 5J750, 8:00 am. Kajo. Stop checking me out. Duh. Anyway, my name is Katherine Josephine. My friends call me Kajo for short. And yeah, I just looove being a flight attendant. I mean, you meet so many cute guys. And pilots! Oh I'm sooooo happy they put me in the same crew as my buddies from flight attendant school! They called us the Queen Bees because we were all prettier than the rest. Any else who disagrees is just jealous. As for the work, ugh I hate how these people think I'm they're nanny or something. Why do I have to be nice to THEM? So many questions! Requests! Duh! Duh! They're going to give me worry lines. Look at this old man. Help you with your luggage? Help yourself ! I'm like half you size DUH you expect me to help you? Can't you see my dainty hands? What's with these people? We're here to look pretty! Not carry luggage! Ugh. Unlike this guy. Cool shirt. Did you know I modeled for the I am Ninoy Campaign? I appeared on screen for 2 seconds! That's 2 more seconds than you'll ever get on national TV. Anyway, he ain't half bad even . But he looks crabby. Or sleepy. Or maybe I'm not his type. Hmph. That CANT happen. I'm EVERYONE"s type. If that's the case, he's on my X list for this flight. HMPH . I'll show him.
I'm going to give him the evil eye I swear Cebu Pacific Flight 5J750, 9:00 am. GBMOkay, flight's going okay, unusually high amount of pressure on my ears though. Are we traveling at a higher altitude? Guy next to me is leaning on my shoulder. He snores too. How sweet. And what's up with these flight attendants? They are soooooooo sooooooo crabby. They're frowning and they look totally unapproachable. They're sorta pretty, I'll give them that. Sorta. But they strut around like they own the place, and project a vibe of "I'm prettier than all of you". All these girls are so surly, it's like they took all the b___hes of their training class and put them in one flight. I mean why would they get into this line of work anyway? They could give my 4th grade Math teacher, the one we nicknamed "Groucho Marx"., a run for her money. It's awkwardness 101 here. I'll just sleep this off, I'm pretty sure those frowns will turn into wrinkles by the time they're 30. *snore* (to be continued)
It has been a little over two weeks since 10 enterprising souls along with their gritty, dedicated support team went out with two vans and covered 250 kilometers covering Subic, Bataan and Zambales during the Chris Sports Epic Relay. By now, you have probably read all about it. Listened to the incredible stories. Heard out the grievances and lamentations. Reveled in the triumphs and cringed at the lows. As of this writing, the discussion thread that we had put together at Takbo.ph has generated 3,317 views, one of the most I had ever seen given that not too many people from the boards were directly part of it. A blow-by-blow feed on Facebook that I was painstakingly updating through my Blackberry even during the wee hours of the morning had produced an incredible 366 comments. Truly, it was a race for the ages, one that people would be surely talking about for months to come.
TPB rocks. So why such a late entry? Nope, I haven't been that lazy mind you. It's just that with the contentious nature of how the race unraveled, I didn't want to come up with an article that was reeking of input from my hopelessly skewed left portion of the brain. With so much charged energy emanating from the after-race vibe, I thought it best to let things simmer down a bit lest I come up with material with excessive amounts of vitriol.
We'll keep it cool. Er, will try at least.
Given the relative "epicness" of the race, and the fact that I wasn't there personally for all of the legs, I guess it really wouldn't do justice if I gave a blow-by-blow like my BDM feature. We're currently working on a compilation of everybody's experiences, and if no publisher picks it up, we'll most probably post it online mwahaha. Wait on it!
So instead, I'll try my best to give you a microcosm of the race proper(there were 30 legs in all, subdivided into 3 main sections) with my personal inputs on my specific leg.
Legs 1-10 Spirits were high for our 12nn gun start as we embarked on the great unknown. Little did we know that this was to be a race to remember. Given the pace we had declared pre-race, we were bundled in the final, "elite" start wave. Some teams had already started as early as 5am, supposedly to even things out. As nervous energy abound, the teams that we were looking out for were Team Ponstan (supposedly loaded with strong, veteran runners), and a Kenyan-powered Team Runnerspeak. Much to our surpise, there was another team inserted into our wave at the very last minute- Team Timex. Through casual conversation, it was not outwardly stated that this was a sponsored team loaded with triathletes and elite runners. Dropping a faux name (Team Roundsprint?) and giving off a weekend warrior vibe, I guess this was gamesmanship at its finest. Or rather, more like a portent of things to come.
In high spirits... .
And yet anxious for what lies ahead...
As we were awaiting the starting gun, the organizers/sponsors had even put together a "showbiz" style intro, with what seemed to be a hastily organized Ponstan "Pep Squad" comprised of made-up teens gyrating to pop tunes ala ASAP while were baking in 35 degree weather . At the starting line, leadoff guy Mark/Beep Beep got into the action and showed off his "Disco" moves in the background.
Beep could give these teens a run for their money As the starting gun finally sounded off, there was a palpable sense of nervous energy amongst the team. Extremely anxious, yet confident that our collective abilities will allow us to make a good account of ourselves. It was agreed upon collective during our pre-race prayer that we're not gunning to win at all costs. It's not the be-all end-all of our stint here. We're just going out to have a good time, soak in the experience, and anything we pick up along the way is gravy.
A prayer for guidance towards the right path
And so it begins. As I said earlier, I don't have the capabilities of doing an accurate blow-by-blow for the entire thing (it would take me forever to write it and you might get bored reading it), so I'll just recreate the first leg in detail while trying my best to faithfully recapture the rest of the legs, just to give your the overall vibe of the race at that given moment.
And so it begins... .(cue Olympic music)Land of the Lost and a budding loveteam Beep Beep was our leadoff guy, probably the strongest sprinter on the team. A former Palarong Pambansa standout, we were banking on a solid opening salvo from him to help set the tone for the rest of the race. From the time that the opening gun was fired, we could see that he was already neck and neck with Kenyan supergal Susan from Team Runnerspeak. So off they went, and we merrily went back to our vans.
As we were heading to the van exchange point at the Pawikan Center (serves as the halfway mark of all three main sections of the race) , we noticed one big problem. The guy from "Team Roundsprint" was actually ahead. And the rotund Ponstan team captain was in 2nd! How could that be? How could they outrun a Kenyan and a 39 minute 10k dude? It could only mean one thing... .
It simply meant that they were... .
Apparently, they were so fast that they missed the turn. Quite mind boggling that the lead pack didn't have any escort to guide them. That's just so crazy. Anyway, Beep ended up going all the way back to the start line, and i think he finished his 5k in 35 minutes. By the time the dust has settled we were in 2nd place, our psyche reeling from this unexpected setback.
The Furious Chase Once Mark/Indorock was up for his leg, it didn't take long for the speedy trackster to bridge the gap between us and the first placers. Cheers abound in our van. Now the hard part. Roy, Bryan and Brando had their work cut out for themselves as they not only had to keep pace to hold off the 3rd placers, in the race for 1st place they were matched up against Cyborg-like counterparts on some of the most difficult terrain in the race. Brando was near exhaustion, and asserted that his stretched out, ridiculously incline-filled course was the hardest 8k of his life.
Early hero Indorock attempts a furious comeback
The Brothers Rivera put up a gallant stand
Brando was so tired that he wanted to go home, selling "scramble" for bus fare Mark Hernz was up next. Was a short 4.4 k route, but his inclines would have put St. Martin to shame. In spite of the searing heat and technical difficulty of his leg, he gutted it,clocking in a solid effort in the process.
Mark gutting out the punishing inclines Leg 7. My turn. By the time the baton (er, slapstick) was handed over to me, a 2km deficit was staring me in the face. What fun. I was amped beyond belief. The long wait at the Leg 5 van exchange point had somehow sapped my energy, notwithstanding the fact that we were working from behind.
Nervous dude right here The amiable guy from the leading team (who even wore pink, I reckon in a sign of allegiance?) even gave me a high-five as he trotted out 10 minutes ahead of me. Once the exchange process was done, I was a man on a mission. Leg description was Recreational to Intermediate. Niiice. With adrenalin pumping, I rushed through the initial, extremely downhill stretch at about a 3:30 pace throwing caution to the wind. This lasted for all of 300 meters. Then I was stopped dead in my tracks. Suddenly, the downhills were gone, and was replaced with a slow, excruciating 6k uphill climb with lush foliage that made it very hard to breathe. Nothing Recreational about this. Cars were spewing smoke at you, and crabby doggies wanted to get a piece of you.
To those who are part of my Adidas Adination Ortigas team, the St. Paul- St. Martin Combo is about 1k not counting the downhill. So think doing 6k worth of that while trying desperately to hold 5:00 pace. I could have sworn I was hyperventilating. Pace was dropping by the nanosecond. By the time I reached the 6k mark, total pace had dropped all the way to 5:57 already. Eek.
Thankfully, what goes up, goes down. I'd like to think that all the uphill training I do had some sort of residual effect. At the risk of blowing my quads, I ran the final steep downhill stretch with everything I had at that point, crushing the asphalt at 3:45 - 3:50 pace. I was red-lining it. I HAD to make up for lost time. We HAD to get back first place.
Have... to get... . first place... .
All of a sudden, with about 1k to go, I saw the leading team's dude laboring heavily. I was ecstatic!! 1st PLACE WAS IN SIGHT!
He got tired In hindsight, I was thinking his heavyset core typical of gym habitues would give out with those extreme inclines at some point.And it did. Blazing at a pace that I could never ever sustain without the concept of team dynamic in play, I passed him! 1st place was ours!!! The rush was unbelievable and unforgettable. As I passed the support van, I was screaming "WE'RE BACK IN FIRST!!! WE'RE BACK IN FIRST!!!" I think I heard Abby screaming in the van as well . Lol.
Now, there was so much momentum gained that I even sprinted the incline near the 10k mark. 10k mark passes. Gulp. No exchange tent! I was burning out pretty fast. Then all of a sudden, my extremities were going numb. It was going upwards already. My hands then started to involuntarily shake. OMG. I was freaking out. What the heck was happening to me? Still nothing. I was panting like a rabid dog in heat. Where was the tent??? Finally, 750 meters later it was there. I rushed , signed in, handed the slaptstick over to a totally juiced Jai, and he was off! TPB in the lead!!!! The team met me with raucous cheers. I was completely exhausted, but super happy. Given that running is an individual sport, having to do team time trials was awesome. We left the leg in high spirits, knowing that I just handed over the lead to one of the strongest runners on our team.
Happy but wasted guyLegs 8 and 9 went by like a blur. Speedy Jai was still fresh from his 3rd place finish at the TBR Dream Marathon, so the guy was in awesome shape. He turned the slight lead I gave him into a significant advantage, and powerful Ronnel padded more to it as the race was starting to drag on into the night.
Dynamic Duo powers into the night.By the time Ka Totoy came up, it was pitch dark already. Being our undisputed anchor and the closest thing to an elite runner on the team, we gave "The Legend" our most difficult leg - the dreaded 6km climb up to Mount Samat. His performance was simply scintillating. He left our mouths wide agape while tackling Kennon Road-level inclines at an unthinkable 5:30 pace. If I had done the same route, I probably would have walked. Being the consummate pro that he is, there were times that he would even wave us off, telling us to wait ahead of him. Running a ridiculous incline in pitch black darkness takes some cajones, and he taught all of us right then and there a thing or two about guts.
From the eyes of a legend... .
The scene that unfolded after seemed like it was taken straight from a movie script. As fast as Ka Totoy was chipping away at the mountain, a rampaging juggernaut was hot on his heels. The strongest Kenyan runner of Team Runnerspeak was blasting away at our nearly 30 minute advantage on them, and before we knew it, they were in 2nd place. Just FYI, this was the Kenyan dude who won Rock and Run 10k, and he runs a 15 minute 5k just to put things into perspective.
In a moment of sheer drama, the Kenyan came within 100 meters of Ka Totoy as he hit the runner exchange point. One last dramatic grasp, and the lead was turned over to Beep Beep who started sprinting like a madman for the start of the next rotation, his lady love Susan in hot pursuit. Incredible effort on the Kenyan's part, and pretty much all of us had a greater appreciation for "The Legend's" incredible running moxie after that sublime effort.
Cooling down after a performance for the ages Whew. What an Epic! And guess what? We're only a third of the way!
But I'll have to stop there.
Because it was at this point that from a genuinely enjoyable race, everything seemed to connive against our success. Among others, I'd rather not discuss how I was stopped right smack in the middle of my 2nd leg ostensibly for "fast forward purposes" along with a totally moronic penalty by a high strung race director who wouldn't give the time of day to any opinion apart from his own.
I don't want to come out with unhappy memories out of this remarkable experience. I'd rather remember Beep and Susan's epic battle racing at 3:00/km pace down the insanely steep downhill of Mt. Samat in total darkness. Or how Brando valiantly tried to fend off "Cyborg" when he just popped out of the darkness. Or how Bryan's tremendous managerial skills established a semblance of order in our team.
One last comeback left in us... .
In a team full of competitive runners who usually duke it out over the weekends, I am proud of how the team came together to overcome adversity in making a concerted effort to go down on our shields with honor. I'll never forget screaming my lungs out when the team pounded out a last-ditch comeback effort, gutting out minute by painstaking minute culminating in Ronnel reclaiming the lead for TPB at leg 29. Truly, you can't make this stuff up. In spite of everything, we still had a chance to win it all at the very last leg. I have misty memories of how Ka Totoy, his body wracked in intense pain and battling 37-degree heat, ran with his heart on the pavement in overtaking the game PNP runner for 2nd place on the very last kilometer.
All for glory...
Because you see, this race meant much more to us than the figurative silver (thanks Mark Mulder) that we weren't even acknowledged for. It was more than the P360 finishers shirt, the P20 Pocari Sweat and P50 picture that awaited you at the line.
It went beyond winning or losing. It was about sticking to our guns when the going got beyond tough. It dealt with working within the rules even if they were seemingly be made to be broken. It was about getting back up and giving it your all after you've been kicked down incessantly to the curb.
Respect. Sportsmanship. Camaraderie. Ain't that what it's all about?
It's been a completely seminal experience for me. It's changed me in a lot of ways too.
To Beep, Mulder, Roy, Brando, Bry, Mark, Jai, Ronnel and Ka Totoy, it was my distinct honor to have raced with you guys.
To our wonderful support team Abby, Maan, Bea, and Doc Eire - thank you so much for sticking by us and sticking for us.
I am very proud of each and every one of you. I'm proud of TPB and what we stand for.
Because no matter what had happened in those fateful 23 hours...
Philippine Blog Awards Verification Text - PBA096339qor Chateau Gingerbread, 6:30 pm
Gingerbreadman rushes inside his house on pins and needles, a late-ending event at his office coupled with the maddening rush of the sundown traffic resulting in twenty minutes worth of tardiness. The helpers are stirred by his spastic entrance, the elder Ginger folk jostled by the abruptness of his appearance. A week-long bout with the chills had the elders admonishing him at the mere mention of a run, urging him to err on the side of caution lest he meet the same fate of the 7 other victims from his alma mater.
Gingerbread Grandpa : Are you crazy? You are sick! Sick I say! You need to rest! And besides, it's raining!
GBM: It's not raining. That's the blender. Gingerbread Grandma: Just stay home hijo I will make you some Spam and Eggs GBM : Yum. How healthy. What's your BP again? Gingerbread Doggie : Woof! Wooooof! Bark! Yelp! (Translation : I could care less if you're sick, but could I have the Spam and Eggs instead?) GBM: How thoughtful. Now knock it off or I'll have you neutered. Gingerbread Gal (via SMS) : Please don't go... . you're sick... .. I'll be sooo worried :( Don't go ... GBM: Aww how sweet. Okay, because you deserve nothing less. I'll... text you when I get home! Xoxo!
Unflinching in his resolve to run despite the chorus of incessant protests received from the immediate brood, GBM nonchalantly went through a whirlwind version of his pre-run ritual. I'll be late for my own freaking run. How embarassing. Oh great the newbie guy texted, he's there already. I don't feel good at all, but what the heck. I'll just run it off. Someone please get the doggie off my leg!
Mcdonald's Pearl Drive, 6:50 pm
20 minutes late and counting . As he rushed into the world's #1 purveyor of high cholesterol, an unfamiliar face was waiting amongst the early dinner throng. Niceties are exchanged. Pio was the name. HR Consultancy was his game. On and off runner since 2005 with a max of 5k in a race. Even as running pals Rico and Bong Yu emerged from the woodwork, GBM could not help but wonder how the newbie could survive the projected 22k route. If he collapses, would that be on me? He looks like he has insurance... Hmmm... . Or better yet I could just blame Rico and Bong... .
GBM was jolted from calculating the ramifications of death via newbie when running buddy/risk manager Rico tapped him on the shoulder, reminding him of unfulfilled promises... .
Rico : Hey, where's my prize? GBM : What prize?Rico : You know, that Levi's Unbuttoned Contest thing you had going... . GBM : Oh yeah, that!
Rico : I won you know... ..
GBM : Oh... ... .. Yeahhhh... ... . Umm, I left it in the office... ..
Rico : Excuses excuses, is this even a real contest?
GBM: Of course it is!
Rico: Looks like a cheap advertising gimmick to me!
GBM : Nooo... it's true! I just left it in my desk! I prooomisee!
Rico : Is it true that you rigged it so I could win?
GBM: Next question please... .
With everything in order, the group set out on their mission - a 22k LSD that would be the first step in their mileage building process for some, a huge running milestone for another.
And so it begins
Km 1.5 - Gold Loop Ortigas
The group was just getting into the groove along the busy alleyways of the Gold Loop that circumvents Pearl Drive. Along the way, GBM had to endure the hopefully friendly jeers of students reveling in his demystified state, his short shorts the complete antithesis of his formal,barong-clad persona. As they were about to hit the route where a squatters settlement was rumored to be intentionally razed, the foursome met triathlete Javy, of Tri'n Hard fame . On the last legs of his route, the affable road warrior shared a quip or two while traversing a single loop, his preparations for the upcoming Animo Tri nearing its peak. With the next leg beckoning, goodbyes were exchanged as the group was steeling itself for the pounding ahead.
Chillin' with Tri'n Hard
Km 4, Julia Vargas Ave
My name is Bong and I work in One San Miguel. Why I come along to these runs, I have no idea. I'm none too shabby a runner myself, I'm a 57 10k dude. I'm just too modest to tell anyone about it. But I wanna take it to the next level. I want to bring that speed to the longer distances. Maybe that's why I'm here. Boy, Julia Vargas sure is dark at night. Is the newbie still alive? He's nice. If something goes wrong, I'll just blame GBM. He organized the whole thing anyway. Why is he pacing us like a madman? Is he mad at us? Why is he subjecting us to this sort of punishment. Oh yeah, we requested this pace. Me and my big mouth. Ow! He almost got run over. What a psycho. Not the car. GBM! Why does he like running in the middle of the street? And he's taking pictures! Is that part of the training? Psycho.
Julia Vargas is fun at night Km 6, St. Martin Hills
Pio is the name and HR is my game. Running? Getting there. So why am I here? Hey I'm down for anything. These guys are so fast. What's this tempo thing they're doing. Runner terminology. Ptooey. One day I'll drop one of these on an unsuspecting newbie. But for now I'm the newbie. I'll take my lumps. And... . oh lord what's with these people??? Are we seriously going to climb this hill? I take this on 1st gear with my car!!! What Psychos! Whaa... . *pant* *gasp*
Daunting indeed.
Km 7.5, Motel/Baby Gravy Drive
I'm known in running circles as Sheer Will. You know, the famous (ahem) blogger/ quintessential nice guy/kuya figure ? My closer friends call me Rico. People who make me feel old call me Boss Rico. People who don't know me at all ask me if I'm the basketball player from Ateneo. Yes, my name is Enrico Villanueva. No I am not the basketball player from Ateneo. Yeah, if I was 6"5 I would be dating celebrities and sipping iced tea at Manila Polo instead of killing myself here with these shmucks. If I lose a little more weight, maybe I could go back into my old life as a commercial model and just ditch this running thing altogether. So here we are, Motel Drive. So many happy memories here. Sigh. What? P520 for a room??? Are they insane?? During my time it was just P180! With electric fan and free soap already! Geez! What a ripoff! And they have hand signals now? Whaaa? What debauchery!Hey, these uphills are getting easier by the day. Maybe it's the view. I should train here more often.
Them hand signals are the best thing since Google
Km 12, C5. GBM.
Wow, it's amazing that the guys are still going strong. They asked for a sub-7 pace to get used to the Milo cutoff . We're running a 6:45 right now. Bong and Rico should get used to this in no time. I'm starting to feel woozy. Maybe I should have listened to the old people. Oh lord I tripped. Thank God no one saw me. Wa-poise! Is Pio still alive? Oh he's right behind me. Check! How does he manage? I'm in awe. Is he pulling a Tito Caloy right here? (To you reading this right now - yeah I'm talking to you and breaking the 4th wall right here - FYI Tito Caloy went from a 5k race to a 27k LSD. Just to put things into context.) It should be over soon... . cough. Cough. COUGH.
We should have just stayed in Motel Drive!
Need... replenishment... Sprite ... . Sprite?
Km 14, C5. Pio.
Gasp. I'm tired. But I need to show these kids a thing or two! This is one newbie that doesn't have quit in him! Do you read my singlet? 2005 baby! 2005! Respect! Although I haven't ran another race since. Still! Gasp. We're still fast. I am starting to dislike this Gingerbread character by the minute. I can't breathe! Must.. push ... . on! These guys are nuts!
2009 rendition of Edvard Munch's "The Scream"
Km 15, C5. Just after Eastwood. Rico.
Where the crap are we going? Why aren't we stopping? Where's the @#$% u-turn? I am starting to dislike this Gingerbread character. I'm tiiiiiired!
By Sheer Will he pushes on
Km 16, Turnaround Point. Bong.
Hoy! Malayo pa ba????? ( translation : Are we there yet?? Where the crap are we going??)
Shaider has a new hobby
Km 17, start of C5 turnaround point
The group has persisted on, GBM maintaining a sub 7 pace as they neared the 20 km mark. Traversing the narrow streets of Libis, they could see that their pacer was noticeably slowing down. Maybe it's his positive split thing catching up with him. But upon reaching the Jollibee branch near Acropolis for a much needed rest, they could see his eyes were glassy. He didn't look alright. Something was up. We can cut short the route man. The warm gesture was waved off with no hesitation. We came here with a goal, and we need to meet it. Deciding that the wide open streets bordering Green Meadows were a better alternative to the life-or-death game they were playing in C5, the steely foursome soldiered on.
Km 19, Green Meadows. GBM.
Crap. Now I'm really not feeling well. They will positively roast me when I get home. I can't pace anymore. Heck I can barely run anymore. I'm really dizzy. But to pace and then to quit... . I wouldn't take that. I invited them here, with a goal in mind. We need to meet that. We need to develop that warrior mentality. A fever will not kill me. At least not today.
Km 21, St. Martin Hills, 2nd Loop.
The group was ecstatic. Pio had just successfully completed his first unofficial half-marathon. He had pulled off a Tito Caloy with what seemed to be an effortless run. It's the very thrill of going past one's limits, or helping others get there, that keep runners coming back for more. GBM looked to be in horrid shape. The guy needs to rest. Psycho. A last push up the St. Paul incline and the group called it day. 22 .2 kilometers total. Whew. Longest run for Pio. Longest LSD for Bong as well. Covering GBM's weekly long run route ain't so bad after all.
Who da man? Who da man?
And the Rookie of the Year goes to.. .
Epilogue, Pearl Drive. The goal met, the group retreated to Chiggy's Pearl Drive for some scrumptious after-run grub. GBM and Bong had Jumbo Liempo. Rico had Bulgoggi. Although completely unnecessary , man of the hour Pio footed the bill, a seeming rite of passage for a guy who had just defied all expectations by doing a Tito Caloy.Friendly banter. Humorous Anecdotes. A life's worth of running memories being built right there.
Yummy Liempo Place
Enjoying some after-run foodies As the final piece of jumbo (they weren't kidding) liempo was consumed, there was one prevailing sentiment amongst the group.
Powerpuff Boys. Smirk. What kind of fruity name is that? Sounds like a local counterpart to the Chippendales. Or a new incarnation of the Masculados. But don't be misled by the name though. From the ashes of controversy, the so-called "Pink Army" has arrived, and there's certainly nothing dainty about them.
Pretty in Pink? Pardon the hyperbole, I'm really just amped. After months and months of incessant planning and lineup changes, TPB has finally come to fruition. Featuring 10 runners all hailing from different cities ( fun fact, it may win you a t-shirt one day), the final roster for our Chris Sports Epic Relay 250 team is finally complete.
Pink would have been horrible on these Masculados
To the uninitiated, the Chris Sports Epic Relay 250 is based off the hugely popular Ragnar Relay Series in the United States. Your team is divided into two vans for an overnight relay race that traverses picturesque terrain spanning Subic, Bataan and Zambales, with the 10 team members running three legs of anywhere from 5-12 kms each.
What fun! Now, we never realized how hard it was to snag 10 dudes paying P1,200 each for less than a combined 30 kilometers. There was a time that the only definitive members on our lineup were team captain Bryan Rivera, myself, and highly respected veteran Graciano "Ka Totoy" Santos. Thankfully, everything just fell into place at the right time, and we are happy to put together a team that does justice to pink. Okay fine, its fuschia.
Here's the current lineup as well as some snippets about the members :
Graciano "Ka Totoy" Santos
He's like our Obi-Wan-Kinobi. The grizzled master never hesitates to give valuable training advice to us noobs. Ka Totoy also abhors any form of alcohol to keep in shape all year round, and his eyebrows could give Isko Moreno's a run for their money.
Bryan "Runner-S" Rivera
Our undisputed team captain. One of the most improved runners over the past year, he has shown incredible tenacity both on and off the road. His organizational and leadership skills are unparalleled as well, and when the time comes that I'm a millionaire already, he'll be the first one I'll call to run my businesses. Throws a mean frisbee too. Is way sexier than Right Said Fred, putting the "S" in "Runner-S".
Mark "Beep Beep" Rodica
The former volleyball star-turned-trackster has a penchant for short shorts, snappy one-liners and even snappier 10k times. Judging by his picture, you could see that he's a very serious guy.
Mark" Indorock" Mulder
This Holland native has been a ball of positive energy for the team. A relatively late addition, this cool, methodical dude now sports a new Glee-inspired do'. The brains behind Manila Road Runners, he is a master at deciphering Tagalog words through context clues and sign language. Shame on his inconsiderate teammates. Er, oops.
Ronnel "Kampuger" Go
Although most people will probably never know what a "Kampuger" is in their lifetime ( I don't know what it is either, and I don't wanna know), this amiable, wise-cracking fella can hang with the best of them. As you can see by his photo, he also has a bit of a Rudolf Nureyev in him. Roy "Kuya" Rivera
Ultra-fit Roy is Bryan's older brother, although at first we thought that it was the other way around. This laid-back, music loving, ultra-fit vegan doesn't concern himself with km splits and pace, he prefers to be lost in the moment and stays away from the extra pressure. He is the founder of the "SBMA Traffic Enforcer" fanpage on Facebook.
Mark "MarkHernz" Hernandez
This model-turned- resilient-ultramarathoner is an all-around athlete who seems to excel at whatever sport he tries his hand on. Totally dedicated hubby (sorry gals) who once ran a 3:30 split for a 10k... . during the first 200 meters. He got very tired soon thereafter. Suffice to say, he never did that again.
Jairuz "Jai-Ho" Agang-ang
A man of few words, he lets his running do the talking. We somehow cajoled him into putting "Jai-Ho" on his uniform. (LSS mode) His unassuming manner belies his competitive nature on the road. He is very inspired right now, nuff said.
Brando "Ace" Losaria
This wisecracking ball of perpetual energy often has the team in stitches, and "Photobrando" takes somes of the most beautiful race shots I have seen. This hard-training raceday habitue has also been touted as a cuter, "funner" version of a certain former Streetboy. His long term goal is to run a 2:30/km pace someday.
And that's the team folks! Oh grr, do I really have to add myself?
I like taking long walks on the beach, Mcdo Fried and Nuggets, I have two dogs named Strowganoff and Piolow, and the grade of my contact lenses is -350. Oh, and I have a girlfriend who can run 102 kilometers faster than me. Sob.
Me and my well-pedigreed support crew
On the eve of our impending battle, I conclude this article amidst a cacophony of sighs and snores from our snug Subic hotel, hopeful and excited about the events that are about to unfold in the next couple of hours. Thanks for all the support and well-wishes that you have given us, we truly appreciate it.
It's been awhile. How are you? Hope the new teleserye is doing well. Also, I resent those rumors stating that you were found dead in some crazy hotel room abroad. Sigh, the trappings of showbiz eh? Anyway, I'll keep this short and sweet.
You still da man
A few weeks back, I ran the San Mig Coffee Bay Run 10k organized by Leadpack. It wasn't your typical MOA race, because the route actually cut through Roxas Blvd so you're not relegated to doing uber boring loops. Turnout was good, the temp very humid. Course was as close to linear as possible, which made for ideal conditions.
As you know, I have been haunted incessantly by my long-standing goal of finally beating your 10k time. It gnaws at the very core of my proud Gingerbread competitive streak. I have been running countless 10k's since I recovered from a 102k- induced ITB injury in a bid to finally get the Sub-Piolow monkey off my back. I thought this race just might be it. The first 5k, I was pacing with this Kenyan chick. By the way, I didn't know she was a chick until after she took the podium for 3rd place in the women's category. My bad. Anyway, she finally broke free at the halfway mark, she just operates at a completely higher level. Huffing and puffing, I waved at some friends who were marshalling and was sort of fading until I ran into your buddy and coverboy partner Coach Rio (should I start calling him Riow?) who was blazing his way in the 15k category.
I attempted to frantically chase after him ; alas, the lechon that I had devoured at the wedding I had attended the day before significantly lessened the aerodynamics of my bilbil.
Lechon = Epic Fail
As I was approaching the line, my breathing wore harder. It was a typical Gingerbread positive split crash. But then something just snapped inside of me. I thought, enough was enough. I just need to suck it up and forget the pain. Pain now, glory later. With one last heave, I crossed the line at 47:01!!! It was like time stopped, even for just a nanosecond. Everything seemed to be moving in slow-motion. I was ecstatic. No words could express it. It was much akin to what these guys were going through -
I was finally free of the Sub-Piolow monkey. I could actually go on with my life now. Thanks for nearly one year of fun memories that you have provided me as I went about this quest, the so-called "holy-grail" of the 10k runner. Congratulations, it's a pop culture thing now. If I ever get nominated for a Philippine Blog Award again, I will dedicate it to you. And if people start calling you "Piolow" for some crazy reason, er, um, uuh, dont blame me (@,@).
The finish was good for 10th place in the men's division 10k. Niiiiice. I was inspired no doubt. In fact, I was so happy that I got out and got myself a Pomeranian puppy courtesy of the world-class Perico Kennel.
Cute noh?
And guess what his name is?
Yep. Cute puppy's name is... ... Piolow :)
Thanks for everything, and I hope to see you at an Ironman soon.
So the rain finally went away. Sigh. Would it be a good day today? Those thoughts crossed my head as I woke up at 3 am, anxiously anticipating the upcoming events of the day. I haven't run a 10k in awhile, and I would be trying to beat my PR for the distance. What was on today's race menu? The highly-anticipated Mizuno Infinity Run, touted by some to be even bigger than the industry benchmark Condura Run. Did it live up to the hype? Let us see for ourselves as the events of the day unfold.
Emeperador - 1, Tito Caloy - 0
The day started with a text message from running buddy/part-time uncle/full-time tomador Tito Caloy. In essence, he had gone drinking and obviously couldn't join the race. Oh great. That's 300 bucks lost off the bat. If he ever pays me, I'll treat you guys for taho. Promise! (don't keep your hopes up). So I ventured off to BHS alone, the silence of the sleepy metropolis an unwilling replacement to Tito Caloy's incessant pre-dawn chatter. I got there relatively early for the 10k check-in, rambling thoughts passing through my head as my anxiety level was rising by the minute.Oh man I'm alone. No one's here yet. Hey is that... . okay maybe not. Hmm they said it would be bigger than Condura? Maybe? Tito Caloy exchanged me for alcohol. I'm sleepy. Why do people wake up this early anyway? He'll never pay me. Wow they moved classes to the 22nd. I don't like this swine flu thing at all. Are people in this world really evil? Can I break my PR? I'm hungry and... The requisite hi/ hello/good luck from Takbo.ph regulars Edu and Rodel jarred me back into consciousness. By this time, the rest of the Takbo.ph gang began to file in. Nearly all of them were running the 15k. Looks like I would be waging another solitary battle here. As the 15k gun went off, the 30 minute countdown towards the 10k start seemed like an eternity. By virtue of me being really early, I was somehow stationed right in the front of the corral, a circumstantial, undeserved spot to say the least. Ansty and nervous at the same time, I attempted to strike some sort of coherent conversation with the runner next to me. Here' s the honest-to-goodness accurate transript of our conversation : Me: "Sir, buti tumigil ung ulan no?"Runner X : "Nga eh." Me: "Um, ano sir ung target ninyo ngayon?" Runner X: " Mga 40, ok na." Me: "Um, aaaah good luck sir! "Running on Empty While that went well, the gun went off. I was in 70's mode for the entire week, so the leadoff song on my iPod was Sumayaw Sumunod. While disco was blaring in my ears, I assessed how I would be approaching this. If the prevailing goal was to break 50 minutes, I would have to work around the 4:30 zone. With a mere 20 km worth of mileage this week, that ain't happening. I started out at 4:29, hitting 5:03 at the 3k mark. I was feeling gassed. Lack of mileage right there. I should buy a treadmill. Or be a member at these fancy gyms so I could use one.Anyway, at the Kalayaan Flyover I ran into Boggs, one of our students from UA&P and a speedy T2 regular. I asked hm what his target was, the response was sub-50. Can I pace with you? The answer was in the affirmative. 2km later he was about 400m from me already. I was zapped. Not happening. Not today. Nice kid though. You'd like him too. The Alchemy of Blood, Guts, and Condura Memories Past the turnaround point and going back up the Kalayaan Flyover, the route quickly evoked memories of the Condura Run. My first major race ever. I remember walking up the steep gradient of the killer flyover. I remembered wanting to quit. I remembered just plain quitting, the heat overpowering my psyche. This is so stupid. Maybe I can just go back to playing poker. At least I'll earn some cash. It's sooooo hot. My feet are killing me. Ayoko na. But if I quit now, I'll never live it down. So I soldiered on. I remembered digging deep within myself just to finish.The pain in my legs was excruciating . I was running on empty. I could hardly breathe. As I was fast fading at that very same flyover last Sunday, those powerful memories were flashing through my head at warp speed. Was I biting off more than I could chew? Am I way over my head in doing this? Does competitiveness have its limits? Is it a sin to strive to be the best at each and every thing you do? Fight or Flight My legs were on fire, the lungs all but out of it. I wanted to give up. But as I descended the Kalayaan Flyover while struggling my way into a 5:50 split, I realized that I only had about 3-4 km to go. Only 3-4 km of pain and sacrifice to go. I thought, just survive a couple more minutes of total exhaustion and you'll feel terrific about exorcising your demons for the rest of the week. I think that right there is the microcosm of "push" - when your body has absolutely nothing more to give and you unabashedly ask it to give more than it ever had.I ran that last 2km stretch, that very same area where I had walked not too long ago, like my life depended on it. I take pride in putting a premium on passion in my everyday travails, in leaving your heart out there on the playing field. It's fight or flight, and I chose to fight. Before I knew it, I could see the chute. Powerful Takbo.ph big man Mond passed me over the final 400m, I could give no more. But even as my body gave out its last hurrah, the clock glanced 51:30. Oh my. I had did it. Getting to the end of the chute, my 305 stopped at 51:38. I pumped my fist and was overjoyed at a blood and guts victory over the most daunting opponent of all.The Aftermath Truly, the whole team was blessed that day. Nearly everyone I talked with set a new PR. Among others, head honcho Jinoe took a new 15k PR, and Bong Z. hit his sub 55 target. I'm so happy because everyone is rapidly improving across the board. As with most of the runners, we were pleasantly surprised to receive a finisher's singlet instead of the advertised shirt. And it fits! In addition, Mizuno saved the biggest surprise for last, announcing that the race was actually a time trial in preparation for next year's event dubbed 1.10.10. The winners would be contingent on how much one had improved from this year's time. Truly, another coup from Mizuno, one that we would all be eagerly awaiting. Afterwards, the group went straight to Mcdonald's Net One for some much needed refueling, the place slowly becoming our favorite post-race BHS breakfast jaunt.
A sea of White, Black, Yellow, Blue... . and Orange?
Ellen and Doc Roy with Migz lurking
Natz, Doc Lyndon and Rico
Matinee idol/speedster Bong with Pepsi and Ms. Morrison
The "Hard Core" Takbo.ph team
Me with Second Wind proprietor/ultramarathoner Hector
Running Couple Neil and Rach at Mcdo Net One
Chillin' out after a messy Mcdo Breakfast So there. When all things were said and done, numerous PR's fell, sunny skies and even sunnier smiles abound. Despite the anxiety and sacrifice, despite the blood and guts spilled on the road and the overpowering urge to quit when you were beaten down to the ground... ... It turned out to be a good day after all. Tito Caloy Quote of The Day :
" Di ako makakasama sayo, ako'y niyaya, napilitan, napainom, napasubo" - On choosing Emperador over Mizuno
The soothing line of the Carpenters classic reverbrated through my mind as I drove out Sunday morning. The rain was steadily pouring over the pavement as I pulled out of my condo, the pre-dawn serenity of a Sunday morning punctuated by the incessant rain. I was thinking, will the run be cancelled? Then I realized the amount of preparations that are put into organizing a race. Moving it would be tantamount to a logistical nightmare. So I figured, the show must go on!
On Rainy Races and Alcohol-Free Uncles I picked up Erick at Shaw Blvd, about 5 mins from my place. We picked up a groggy and thankfully not drunk Tito Caloy a few minutes later. Apparently, he had begged off from an inuman party with the kumpadres the night before just to prepare for the race. Absconding from free beer? Now that's what you call dedication! So the three of us were talking shop as we reached Mckinley at 5:15, 15 minutes before the announced race time. There was some confusion as to where the parking area was, so we had to ask around. Two marshals, one sleepy guard, and one crabby guard later we ended up in the open parking area. Note to self : 15 minutes to race time! Hurry! Warm-up running in the rain towards the starting line, I saw that the race was still surprisingly well-attended despite the inclement weather. I saw Takbo.ph gals Cherry and Ross walking around, pointed us to where the team was hanging out. The usual suspects were there, along with a morose-looking Sam akaThe Running Ninja in blogging parlance. I thought he was intensely focused on his strategy, little did I know that he had run over someone the night before. Hang in there buddy, things will be resolved soon. Takeshi's Castle Fun Times The organizers soon announced that the race would be starting at 6 am, or 30 minutes later than the announced time because of the weather. Tito Caloy was wondering if it would push through, a 16k virgin's typical anxiety in play. I nodded somewhat unattentively, my wandering thoughts fixated on my strategy for the race as the "peloton" of 3k, 5k, and 16k were gathered en masse for a common start. 10 miles. 16 something kilometers. It's my first time to tackle the distance, first crack at the famed Mckinkley Hills. I have no idea if my pace would hold here. I feel like I'm out of shape. I lack mileage this week. I should stop working and just run. Okay maybe not. This kid next to me is really loud. Did I bring enough money to eat later? Oh crap I left my camera in the car. No pix for the blog then. But then again if I brought the camera, where would I put it? What's the true meaning of love? It's starting to rain... oh great it's pretty hard ... . my Garmin's gonna get soaked... .. Wow I feel like I'm in the Takeshi's Castle starting grid... . Oh great here we go... The starting gun jolted me back into reality. Suffice to say, it was a riot. Bundling together the 16k runners with the 3k and 5k runners wasn't the high point of an otherwise well-organized race. Truly, the Takeshi's Castle analogy was not far-fetched. It was virtual bedlam. I think that the fact that the rain started to pour a few seconds before the starting gun went off contributed to a rock-concert like atmosphere, which in turn elevated the adrenalin levels of pretty much everyone. Not only did I have to contend with the rain and the slippery road, I also had to deal with rowdy kids who were jumping (yeah, jumping) on the road. By the time I had extricated myself from that mess, I figured I had lost about 10-15 seconds worth of pacing. Prior to the race, I had no idea what was a good target time for 16k . Coach Pojie said a 1:30 would be nice. Personally, I thought it was a stretch given my propensity to fade late. But I took solace in the training runs I've had lately, so might as well give it a shot. The first kilometer registered 4:53 on my 305. Right on schedule! For 10k's my preferred opening would be a 4:30, but into the great unknown that was the 10-miler, I was guessing the aformentioned pace would be sufficient. At the 3km mark , I began to pace with Docs Eric and Pinky. Doc Eric is a sub- 2 hour 21k runner, one of the strongest in the group. I thought it would be prudent to pace with him, at least get myself acquainted with the level that I am training for. Doc Pinky was actually pacing faster than us, and it turned out she was competing in the 5k. Her breakneck pace was good enough for a 5th place podium finish wohoo :) Congrats Doc Pinky, terrific run. So me and Doc Eric ran together until the 9k mark. The hills were harder than I expected. The course was living up to its billing. I accelerated in one of the steeper extended regions heading to the Heritage Park region, and once again I was alone. There were numerous water stations available, and I crossed the 10k mark at 53:50, just 10 seconds off my 10k PR. I thought to myself, I have a real shot at this. Just keep your head in it. As I sprinted downhill towards the 11k turnaround point, the daunting uphill climb to my left was a grim reminder of the tribulations up ahead. So this is what Sisyphus must have felt like Let's just put it this way. If you have no hill training at all, kiss your PR goals goodbye for this course. The return uphill stretch went for something like 3 km. My pace went down from 5:25 to 5:30. Soon Doc Eric caught up with me, a friendly face ready to boost me up in what seemed like an endless uphill battle. Even when I thought it had ended, it was still haunting me.My hammies rather. Finally, we had started our reentry into the Mckinley area proper. 4k to go! The Garmin showed us at 1 hour something! Wow! We have a real shot! Doc Eric told me that we should just go for it, and we did. We were sprinting the last 4k at a 5:05 - 5:10 pace. I made the mistake of going LT on the 15th kilometer, and I faded a little towards the end. I also saw amiable Happy Feet/Takbo.ph habitue Mon towards the homestretch, last saw him during our Baguio run. When all things were said and done, I happily crossed the line at 1:26:03, 4 minutes below my target! Final pace was 5:32., about 20 seconds behind locomotive-like Doc Eric. I was so happy, because I realized that if I maintain that pace for at least 5k more, I could do a sub -2 hour 21k! That's my secret (well not anymore) dream! Yeah! As the group congregated, the rest of the gang started to pile in. Sam came in injury-free at 1:40. Speedy, comebacking Migz got 1:32, his first since his injury. "Wala ako sa kundisyon" Erick got a strong 1:30 finish, a testament to his run-walk strategy. Tito Caloy logged in at an estimated 1:50, a wonderful time for the 50-year old 16k Virgin. Wilnar, Girley, and as mentioned earlier Doc Pinky took podium finishes in their respective categories. Overall, was a good day for the team! Afterwards, the factions of the group met at Mcdonald's Net One for a wonderful post-race celebration of sorts. Lots of photos, laughs, and goofing around :)
All's well at Earth Run
Doc T wins!
Wilnar's 5th place finish for the 5k
Coach wins too!
Rico aka Sheer Will with his "medal"
Girley aka Pepsi with the real thing So with all things said and done, suffice to say do rainy days and Sundays always get me down? With runs and friends like these, not really :) Tito Caloy Quote of the Day :
"Napasarap ung kwento ko dun sa mag-asawa, naligaw tuloy ako!" - On following Neil and Rach to the 5k route
What is it about Baguio and pine trees? The summer capital of the Philippines usually evokes memories of the unmistakeable aroma of pine, an aroma that in turn triggers memories of fun summers, inebriated nights, and forlorn romances. Indeed, this northern getaway could symbolize a whole lot of different things for a whole lot of different people. During my latest jaunt there, the time came to nurture a Baguio experience of a different kind - my first road race in the City of Pines!
An Unlikely Gig The whole trip started innocuously enough - majority of the gang was disenfranshised by the lack of slots to TNF and we were lacking a weekend gig. Out of what seemed like divine providence, coach Pojie suddenly mentioned that Botak was organizing a Baguio race, the idea floated to him by Craig of Team Logan. With the recent beating the Botak brand has taken amongst running denizens, the announcement was met with a certain degree of apprehension. These fears were quickly allayed when it was mentioned that the race was being handled by a different organizer. From that point on, everything seemed like a blur. Before we knew it, ageless resto magnate/speedster/overall good guy Bong was already taking care of the logistical preps for the group. And thus the adventure begins... .. Carbo- Loading in the Cold Craig offered to organize a Carbo Loading Party or CLP at his Baguio abode the Friday before the race, much like the Takbo.ph CLP shortly before the Condura Run. Due to work constraints, I was prevailed upon to drive over on a Saturday, and it looks likeI missed a wonderful celebration. I promise I'll be there next time guys!
The Takbo.ph gang at the Logan home The Night Before The 5 hour drive going to Baguio was pleasant enough, the SCTEX doing wonders for what used to be an extremely cumbersome ride. After retreating to Baguio Burnham Suites, (shame less plug for my friend's hotel haha ) I went on to visit the Takbo.ph gang at Chelly's place where practically everyone was staying. I am in no way, shape or form an expert on Baguio roads, so suffice to say I got lost multiple times while looking for the place. After much tribulation and comprehensive directions from the police station (fine I gave up so sue me) I finally found the place!I was so happy to see the gang, the hard-core running addicts of my running team celebrating our sweeping point of commonality in such a remote and unlikely locale. We had quite the delegation! I was even offered some Bacardi! To put in my hydro belt! (They were kidding. I think.) After chilling with the gang, I left for my hotel with bright anticipation for the race that was to commence in a few hours.
Fun Takbo.ph times at Chelly's winter palace
Gal pals Julie and Carina hyped up for the race
21k virgin Edu chillin out
The Cranium set which provided the entertainment for the nightBaguio D-Day With roughly four hours of sleep, I trotted over to the starting line at Burnham Park near the pond. I was lucky that the hotel was pretty near, so I got a half-decent warmup run in chilly 16 degree weather. The gang was already there, excited yet anxious at the same time.
Ready to go to war in the chilly Baguio dawn
Let's get it on!!!!!The organizer was announcing all the running teams and clubs that came- a smattering from Manila and a handful of varsities from the prevailing locale. It seemed that the Takbo.ph delegation was the biggest from Manila. However, the biggest delegation was hands down from the PNP training corps , both their men's and women's squads were there. There also was some unintentional comedy involved as the organizers instructed the Takbo.ph team to come up the front of the line! Feeling elite! Haha :) At about 5:45 (15 minutes from the announced start time as we had "waited"for the police escorts) the starting gun went off. So here we go... .. On a Higher Plane Given the aniticipated difficulty of the course based from the group's feedback after their ocular the day before, we all adjusted our projected pace accordingly. I was pacing with Takbo.ph founder Jinoe, and we decided we should maintain a 6:30 pace for the first 10k.Once again, just the mere fact that I was racing in Baguio was so surreal for me. The chilly thin air, that unmistakeable aroma of pine, great company... . sunrise at 1500 feet... . Wow... ... It was AWESOME. Makes the 268 km ride from Manila (okay fine I measured it with my Garmin. Junkie.) all worth it. And just as I was starting to get a wee bit too comfy in my utopian dream scenario, a rapid 3 km downhill descent that we were running at 5:20 pace gave us an ominous portent of things to come. As all runners reaching turnaround points know... . what goes down... must eventually go up. Gulp. It's The Hardest Thing At the 10k turnaround point and requisite 1 minute walk/water break, me and Jinoe were trying to mentally prepare oursleves for the drudgery that were going up against. We tried for 1 km to run it, but the hills were just too much. We ended upusing a run/walk strategy, even surrendering a 10:00 minute split. Looking around, even the police cadets were walking. Damn, it must have been THAT hard. Check out the elevation courtesy of Jinoe's 405!
Homeward Bound Having survived that, we struggled to get our wits about us. We had surrendered nearly a full minute from our pace and we needed to make up for lost ground in a hurry. So what we did, we used a group of gruff cadets as a pace group, and they hurtled through the return route at a 5:20 pace. We struggled to keep up and thankfully our second wind kicked in at this point. As we starting to catch some sort of coherent rhythm at this point, we realized that we were on the way back to Burnham already! The course was going to be short! As I sprinted towards the finish line at 2:01:43, the 10k runners of the Takbo.ph gang greeted me with a rapturous round of applause, sweet music to my ears after wining yet another battle of wills. Boss Jinoe soon followed suit, about 15 seconds behind by my estimate. The moment we had crossed the line, the kind lady organizer immediately asked how long did the race register on our Garmins. I told her, 18.16 on mine. She then went on to explain that the local government had them do emergency reroute because of some digging that was being done. While some may have thought that this was the latest Botak disaster, I felt that from a PR perspective her prompt, on-the-spot public announcement and apology was the best possible thing that could have been done. Shirking from the issue would have been disastrous. As a result, the discrepancy was more or less downplayed by the participants.
Sprinting with a smile towards the finish line
I conquered them hills!
18k? Easy!
Jinoe, Me, Mhel, Poj, and Doc Roy
Queenie getting her top-15 finish medal Final Thoughts Overall, it was probably one of the toughest races I have been part of. The 3k killer uphill stretch truly left little to the imagination ; if you think I exaggerate you should try it out for yourself. The cool weather, the tremendous locale and wonderful scenery made it all the more special. And hey, it's not like you could race the infamous uphills of the City of Pines every week right? As always, even if I wasn't there for their entire stay, the Takbo.ph team made the experience infinitely more special. I grabbed photos, sue me later :) If you want interactive map info of the race, check it out here - http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/player/8310795 What is it about Baguio and pine trees? What strong memories do these bastions of generations past evoke? Forlorn romances? Inebriated nights? I don't know about you, but I 'll never look at Baguio in the same way again.
Why do we run again? It's for times like these. Times when you try to fall asleep at 8 pm on a Saturday night so that you'll wake up at 1am for an out-of-town run. 1am? Most of the nocturnal denizens of the metropolis are still in Fiamma or Emba at this time, the booze overflowing at every corner. It sort of reminds me of my old lifestlye. If you had told me a couple of years ago that I would be adhering to this spartan way of living I would have given you one of those incredulous, you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me looks. Alas, I have been locked in to the wonderful world of running, and there's really no turning back. The parameters of last Sunday's run were relatively simple. We drive to Tagaytay, then run 34k to Mhel's house. Mhel was kind enough to once again open his home to the Takbo.ph team, the first time being after the Greenfield City race. So how did my weekend adventure begin? I woke up at 1:00 am and basically sleepwalked my way into preparing for the run. I wanted to be on the dot for this , so by 2:30 I was at the place of my uncle, fondly called Tito Caloy by the group. He was joining the long run after only having a 5k prep run at Botak the week before with no prior running experience. Apparently, getting hooked runs in the family hehe. He told me that he had no sleep at all because my cousin was badgering him to death about coming along. So he strived to get as much shut-eye as he could in my car.
Tito Caloy dreaming of PR's in the carThe highway laid out at a utopianesque standstill, we picked up Rod and Gab at the Sucat exit at 3:00 am as per our arrangement. With Tito Caloy half comatose while riding shotgun, we could hardly contain our frenzied excitement for the run despite the ungodly hour. We arrived at our meeting spot in Paseo de Sta Rosa before 3:30. Sam and a shnoozing Rodel who came directly from work were already there (excited) . In a few more moments Doc Topher and Mhel arrived as well. An unfamiliar face soon showed up, and we were happy to see that it was actually forum habitue Mond aka Pawgee that we were meeting for the very first time.
The first four Doc Eric, our kind host/organizer for the Tagaytay leg, came in at about 3:40 am. He said he woke up late hehe :) With the looming problem of how to transport everybody to the start point, it was decided that some cars would be left at Paseo, and some would help Doc Eric transport the gang to the start point. For some reason, we went with my car, inspite of the fact that it was lowered and could only accomodate so many people. We crammed five dudes in there! As a result, I could only drive at "punerarya" pace. We got to Doc Eric's Tagaytay house and was happy to find the whole gang there. Carbo-laden goodies were strewn across the dining table. After some niceties and last- minute preps, we ventured out at nearly 5am, an hour later than our estimate. The sun was rising , and we had to make up for lost time.
The Takbo.ph team at ground zero After navigating our way out of a dark, mongrel-infested route (read: crabby, hungry looking Askals), we made it to the main highway. For most of the initial route I was designated as the pacer. I was following Doc Eric's prescribed pace of 8:00/km if we intended to make it there on time. As I soon found out though, this pace was a bit too fast for the group to stick together ; 9 - 10/km was more appropriate. I relinquished the pacer role and engaged the gang in friendly banter, took time out to take some pictures. Mhel took on the pacer role at this juncture.
Smiling so that the doggies would go away
At least Sam's happy
And so we begin
Tito Caloy aka "Enduro" is tired already?
Why do we run again? It's for times like these . Running in the cool Tagaytay pre-morning breeze was so relaxing for me, such a transcendent , preternatural experience that it reminded me of why we sacrifice so much. No amount of money could replicate that exact, precise moment for me. At just before the 10k mark for us Takbo.ph head honcho Jinoe and BDM 102 finisher Jerry aka High Altitude joined us. By this time, the group had splintered into several groups, with Mhel and Jerry leading the first group. I had the privilege of pacing with Jinoe for several kilometers, only stopping at the Rotunda because the last group was way behind and we didnt want anyone lost. Picture taking galore ensued :)
The Takbo.ph boys!
Rodel and Boss Jinoe running... . in place
May view may view picture muna!
Hagibis reunited? Why do we run again? It's for times like these. Me and Jinoe wanted to get a good workout from the whole thing, so we upped the pace to 6:30. Before long, we caught up with the lead group on walk break. Jerry was still the pacemaker, so when he broke away he followed suit. An interesting sidelight about Jerry - I kept on talking to him in the vernacular, and he would only give what I made out to be a look bordering on confused and snobbish. Turns out, our BDM ultramarathoner was Indonesian! And he was anything but snobbish. Once we got the language barrier out of the way, he was extremely helpful and gave so many tips on our ultramarathon dream next year.
Ultraman Jerry aka High Altitude. Tito Caloy and Sam mugging inthe background As amiable as he was off road, he was just as intense on it. For what was hyped to be an LSD, we were pushing it at 6:00 - 6:30 from the 10k to 20k mark. There were several of us in the breakaway lead group - Jerry, Jinoe, Me, Mhel, Mond, and lo and behold Tito Caloy who was lagging behind. I had to keep on coming back for him just to check up, and I was repeatedly shooed away hehe. Old people :) Also, the heat was starting to catch on. With not so fond memories of my Botak meltdown, my confidence was shaken in extreme heat. My Garmin analysis later showed a 31 degree high with 70% humidity, even hotter than that ill-fated race day. Alas, with the right will and determination we reached the first stop, 20.2 km down. The rest of the group who were running the partial route were waiting for us as well. We entered to the warm cheers emanating from familiar faces More friends! Alright! :P
Fun times with the whole gang
Buying P12 Gatorade in bottles.Hmmm...
Mond taking a breather
Age doesn't matter... ... Aray... ... . Having recharged our batteries (P12 bottled Gatorade was all the rage, and special thanks to Mhel who lent me some cash after I lost mine) the group braced itself for the next push - a 7k jaunt to "nearby" Paseo de Sta. Rosa. The heat was getting to be pretty bad at this point, the ill effects of starting an hour late. I think pacer Jerry felt this as well, so instead of slowing down, we took off maintaining a 6:00 - 6:15 pace for the distance, leading a pack that included myself, Docs Eric and Pinky, Mhel, Mond, and Quennie (who got sucked in by the pace). We were left wondering - what LSD? This feels more like a 27k tempo run! By this time, the heat was sweltering. The heat would have made the Gobi Desert proud. As the group started to trickle in one by one, we came to the realization that we could go no more in this heat. It was another good 7k to Mhel's place. I decided against running any further, and so did Tito Caloy. A few brave souls ventured to go the full distance - marathon man/coach Pojie on "taper" mode, comebacking Carly, Mhel, Jerry, and Mond. We salute your dedication! Ayos!
27.56k ... . is... ... enough... .
We'd rather take the car!
Why do we run again? It's for times like these. At Mhel's house, the group's camaraderie was in full swing. Like road weary Spartans coming home from their latest victory, you could feel the vibe of contentment and happiness in the air. It's an unexplainable, magical feeling that runners alone can empathize with. Forget the aches and pains. We just cleared a distance greater than a half marathon! The food was overflowing, the laughter pervading. Nevermind the hassle of going back the entire distance to get our cars in Tagaytay. Forget the 50k ride back to Manila. We accomplished something, something that no one can ever take away from us.
Manokan Express with Chicken Arrozcaldo
Poj and Quennie with our kind hosts
Power couple Rach and Neil
Busog!
Happy Camper
All in a day's work!
Takbo.ph rocks!
Why do we run again? If you love running with a fervent passion... ...
You all know the story. We have heard the rants. Internalized the numerous streams of venom put forth by the angry masses. Admittedly, I am one of them. The lack of foresight caused 57 runners in my category to DNF, the scorching heat too much for them. We could only guess what medical malady befell them. The same lack of foresight had my friend overcome by heat stroke and hyperventilation 500 meters from the finish line, resulting in a 2 hour stint at Makati Med. Ironically, if only the course had been accurate he should have finished it straight up. If there's one saving grace, they released results which took into account the excess 500 - 600 m on the route. The resulting distance adjustment gave me a PR of 2:14:36, which I hazard compensates for the initial time lost. Anyway, here was my after-race take on the whole thing as posted on the Takbo.ph forums : As has been customary for me already (and the lack of a blog notwithstanding), here's a comprehensive post on my Botak 21k race. A fair amount of vitriol has already been spewed by Deo and supahatdog in the earlier posts, so I'll give you my take on it. The first warning sign for me was when I heard from the gang that the 21k start time was 6 am bigla. Only 2 days before I had called the Botak office and was informed of a 5 am start. So I was sort of weirded out by that. Everyone was getting conflicting information. So I decided I'll arrive at 5am just to be sure. I was alarmed because at 6am, people would be running well into the 8 am - 9 am range already. Would this be a portent of things to come? So we started at 6 am. 5:58 on my 305. Attempted to pace Sam for 5k, he fell back at 1 1/2 k mark. First k was 4:35, 2nd k was 5:02. He was the only guy I remotely ran with. 97% of the race I was alone
At 10k mark I was at 55:34 and liking my chances. Running in Rockwell was neat as well, kahit uphill siya. Coming off a pretty nice run the previous week at ATC, my goal was to significantly improve my Greenfield PR of 2:19 something. Then it happened. What happened? The heat happened. Yes, the heat. Good ol' 32 degrees with 66% humidity. I never knew what the desert felt like until awhile ago. It was crippling, debilitating, paralyzing (I'm running out of adjectives) to the point of hilarity. At the 10k mark I was maintaining a healthy 5:30 or so pace. By the time the race was over I had surrendered a full minute off that
So what happened to me from 10k to 16k? - Hookers in Burgos waved at me. I waved back. - Jeepneys in Burgos nearly sideswiped me. I couldn't sideswipe back. - The area near South avenue I got several seemingly innocuous comments of "Japorms" from fun bystanders. - I had at least 2 guys (21k dudes also) ask me "Bakit ang dami mong tali?" (Does this mean they either got lost or took a shortcut? Guess the race marshals took off for colder fronts) - I had agonizing km splits reaching up to 8:24
So sue me, I couldn't breathe anymore, it was like the oxygen was sucked out of the surroundings already. My original plan was to pick up the pace from the 17k mark onwards and "earn back" the pace I had lost. I was marginally, nominally successful at best. The heat and humidity were too much. The best I could muster with all my might was a 6:25, followed by mid 7's till the end. From the 16- 21 k mark these were the sights : - Runners fighting the people at the water stations because there's no water - Runners walking Kalayaan Flyover - Runners walking everywhere - Runners quitting and sitting on the curb to take a break. - "Ang init no?" entrenching itself as the unintentional comedy quote of the day. - An "elite" looking guy (crew cut, short shorts) paced by me at the 18k mark and asked, "May tubig ka ba?" in a seemingly imposing and authoritative way. So I um, gave him the Gatorade I was saving for my final push. He muttered what seemed like a rudimentary form of "thank you" and promptly sped off. Nice guy. With the sun in all its bedazzling glory, for the first time in my life I have felt how it was to run in a desert with no breathable air. My goals suddenly shifted from setting a PR to merely getting out of there in one piece. It was debilitating to say the least. A test of sheer will if you may. In the cornucopia of things that make up the runner's psyche, one has to think "Should I go for broke and risk collapsing, or should I just focus on survival?" I was feeling horrible, I thought I would pass out several times. Mentally, I was pushed to the very limit. The death zone from 19k - 21k had "QUIT" written all over it. In the end, prudence won out over glory. In spite of the crushing circumstances, I was somehow blessed to finish the race at 2:17:28 chopping off 2 mins and 20 seconds off my current 21k PR. I felt horrible. And to make matters worse, when I crossed the finish line a kid was running recklessly towards me, causing me to jump to avoid him. This in turn triggered a strain in my hammy I still feel as I am typing this. Final Thoughts? - I will never ever run a 21k race that starts at 6am during the summer. - Running with jeeps beside you is not fun at all - The course was 21.47 on my 305. That's nearly half a kilometer. A half kilometer that translates into 3-4 minutes lost on your time. Sayang naman. - I was super worried about Doc Roy, Doc Sherwin, and Coach Pojie for their 42k run, given the punishing conditions and no water support. I am so happy and proud that they finished it in one piece and got their medals Way to go guys! - Congratulations to Edu for setting a new 10 K PR taking it in 56 something and finally breaching the 57 mark! Good job! - I am proud that other 21k runners like Deo,Boss Rico, Tim, Bong and Sam among others fought through the punishing elements to finish. Lesser men would have quit.Your determination and will is something that makes us all proud.
Much has been made about the "gait analysis", a hitherto unheard of term for me before I started running. However, once my running injuries started to pile up one after the other, I realized it isn't quite as simple as slipping on the fancy looking pair out the window. Here's my post on my gait analysis experience at Second Wind, a specialty running store located in Quezon City :) Okay, so finally I have had it with my injury-causing Mr. Quickie shoes that caused me to have an agonizing Greenfield Run. I have been using an Accel lying around the house as a very poor replacement. Well at least they didn't cause me blisters. But after running it during the MOntalban LSD and using it for my regular training runs it's like I was getting more aches and pains around my quads and calves, even the heels. I decided that enough was enough, and that I had to go and get a gait analysis just to know what precisely was going on. Highly recommended was Hector Yuzon of Second Wind. Second Wind is a newly opened shop located in Teacher's Village, QC. An accomplished ultra runner himself, he told me that his shop is envisioned to be one for runners by runners. He could train salespeople to talk about sizes and specs, but it takes a real runner to get to the crux of the matter when customers ask very specific, experience-based questions.
So without further ado, we began with the analysis. You're supposed to run with your current shoes, and I was embarrassed when he told me that that Accels were actually badminton shoes
I was made to run on a treadmill, and actual video stills were taken. It showed that I was essentially an extreme overpronator with my left foot while my right was normal. I also learned that I was a midfoot striker which is good for long distance running. Apparently , there's an acceptable degree of variance when your leg hits the ground, and my left leg was way out there. This was the reason why I get injured often. So to combat this, I was referred a stability shoe to correct the problem. Hector offered 5 choices from best to good, then had me test them on the treadmill after. I ended up getting the New Balance 848's, and they worked like a charm during last Sunday's race, helping me set a new 10k PR
Overall, Hector's amiable demeanor and encyclopedic knowledge of all things running related helped me immensely in making the right choice. Happy customer here, and I highly recommend his shop. Lots of singlets, shades, shorts to choose from aside from of course the shoes.
Check out my gait analysis here guys. It's by appt by the way, just give his shop a call
Click to zoom and drag to navigate! Open publication - Free publishing - More gait analysis
Some days, you wake up and you feel that it's going to be a wonderful day. On the flipside,some days there's just a dour aura of gloom pervading around you. For whatever it may be, I was lucky that just two Sundays ago it was the latter that came into play. The ATC Southern Run had a terrific setting, there was barely any heat around, and it seemed like the perfect day for a race. Here's my take on what happened as previously posted on the Takbo.ph forums : Ako I must admit I really had fun with this race. The venue, the whole atmosphere seemed very relaxed and highly conducive to running. The course itself was rolling up and down, which provided somewhat of a challenge to the fatigued
Started the race up front with ultraman PAt ( my goodness elite na to, 46 mins 29th place) Natz (another Takbo elite 47!!!) and Boss Jinoe (52 I think, new PR too lupet!) . I tried to pace with PAt, and suceeded in doing so for like 500 meters. He was like Usain Bolt out of the gates. The blazing start took me out of my rhythm. Wrong mistake. I learned that attempting to pace with someone way above your league isn't exactly the best thing to do. Although that first kilometer attempting to catch up with PAt amounted to a 4:40 lap, it took me out of my comfort zone and I need about 3 K's t0 recover. Boss Jinoe caught up with me at 4k mark I think, we paced until the 7k mark which was when broke away na. I was planning on making my move at the 8k mark, wasn't too confident if I could sustain a neg split pace that early. At the 8k mark I picked up the pace na, from a comfortably hard 5:40 I lowered it to 5"20, and last K was 5:05. My goal for the race was a sub-55 finish, which was somewhat of a stretch. Sabi ko kahit madaplisan lang ang 55 okay na ako. But perhaps a combination of real running shoes (goodbye Mr. Quickie! Not PINK NB's!), a 305 to help me strategize and more mileage helped me immensely. I was so happy to cross the line at 53:40, a time that once seemed like an impossibility for me. My first 10k race I finished at 1:28. I'm so happy. It's like all the hard work, the "getting roasted in the sun because you started your 20k run at 5am" sacrifices were all worth it. And it made me believe na it's possible pala for average athletes like me to realistically lower PR's over time. Dati kasi I used to think it's either you have it or not. Of course, hanging out with the Takbo.ph gang made it all the more special. The kulitan pictures and the camaraderie truly made it worth the long drive. Happy runner here
Congrats everyone
I'd upload my run but MotionBased aint working now
I have a confession to make. I suck at presscons. Absolutely suck at them. I am quite possibly the worst blagger to invite to these things. For some insipid reason or another, I keep on missing them. Either my car gets a flat, I'm assigned OT work or I have some family thing. There's always something going on. I have like a 10% attendance rate, and sooner or later I'll be declared persona non grata by race directors and PR people alike. I never get em goodies. Sob.
So you could just picture the smile on my face when they told me that the presser for the upcoming San Mig Coffee Bay Run Dash for Health ( okay that was long) was at Congo Grille at El Pueblo. That's like... .. two blocks from my house. Yessssss. Finally. No way I'm missing this.
I wonder who's that runner?
One more miss and goodbye presscons foreverrr. Scheduled at 7pm, I cockily thought to myself, Nah its a 3 minute drive from my place. Why rush? Of course, in a move reeking of sheer time management genius I totally forgot that it was Friday uwian. Smart. So there I was , stuck in bumper to bumper traffic going to a resto that's roughly a kilometer and a half from my house. Great. I still have a Nat Geo hangover.
Oh the horror. So after like nearly 20 minutes, I finally get to the place. And guess what? Much to my consternation evil manong guard curtly stonewalls me at the entrance with a "Ser, pono na poh and parkeeng dito. Weeting na poh dito, weeting." Weeting for parking would have entailed me adding to the already ginormous traffic jam. Apparently, Mr. Murphy has a secret crush on me and follows me around wherever I go.
Shunget ni koya.
So to make a long story short, I brought the car back home and tempo ran from my house back to the resto, a vain attempt to somehow temper my unexplainable tardiness. Of course, I had to run in jeans, leaving my poise on the pavement in the process. Good thing a lot of familiar faces greeted me when I came in, denizens of the running blogosphere in full force.
The faces behind your favorite blags
Que, Gail , and Vimz of Kulit on the Run with hubby Art So let's cut to the chase. After having way more than my fair share of sisig and chicken, the presser proper unfolded. Takbo.ph first lady Que did the honor of introducing the GM of San Mig Coffee, and he gave the requisite welcome remarks. Kind man. I wish I had him as a Tito.
Que in the house!
Tito saying something about San Mig
Soon after, things were turned over to the comely Marketing Manager ( or so I think, the exact title eludes me) of the brand and she gave a quick primer on the product line. Three things I learned : 1. The San Mig Coffee "healthy" line is tops in its market segment 2. Good ol' Piolow is no longer their endorser, thus visions of a grand showdown dissipated into thin air quicker than it was conjured, and 3. Presenting to a rowdy, predominantly male blogger crowd is an exercise in restraint. Lol.
Deep breathly. I can do this.
Soon after, it was a pleasant surprise to see that Ian Alacar would be assuming Race Director duties for this race. Absent from the mainstream scene as of late, it was nice to see him around for a change. For long-time followers of this site, you may recall that Ian was the race director when I first conquered the ultramarathon distance at Botak awhile back. Fun guy.
Happy mems with Ian and Sideshow Bob
So what are the essentials you need to know about the race? It's going to be held on May 23rd, Mall of Asia grounds. But before you dismiss it as just another MOA race, hold your horses. It's being touted as the first race to have a route that actually cuts through the Manila baywalk. 3k and 5k distances cost P450 a pop, while the 10k and 15k races are at P550.
Race is actually bang for the buck, you get a fancy Unibersidad-made singlet that would probably cost as much as the registration if bought as a stand-alone. And the cool part about the whole thing is you could order your race kits over the phone, delivered COD by WWW.express. The number to call is 795-1777. Niiice.
For you freebie/perk hunters out there, I'd rather that you find out for yourselves what's in store for you during race day, but to give you a quick heads up there would be photobooths, bottomless coffee, loot bags, seminars, and dare I say, free massages?
So there you go. Registration starts April 17, 2010 to May 19, 2010, call the number I mentioned earlier for more details. If you've never run around the bay area, this is a good race to actually try out the local scenery. Hope this helped everyone, I'll see you on the road!
Requisite Gingerbread photo-op with Ian and Marketing gal.
compromises, you love your partner and want to keep them happy, but still find a way to totally be yourself. Gardening is a balance of trying to achieve your dreams, and batting away reality when it comes too close. Who other then gardener will have the patience to plant a seed and expect it to flourish into a beautiful plant. My little condo garden in White Rock Working with a non gardener who just happens to be the muscle behind the dream is like giving directions to a tightrope walker who is blindfolded, listening to Mozart through ear buds. It doesn’t always work.
My condo garden in White Rock, is not the same climate as up here. My husband and I stand in our backyard, it’s barren to me only apparently, faceless, brown, ranked by towering fir trees. To him, it’s open, spacious. The yard slopes back down towards the chain-link fence, that serves no purpose other then to titillate Boots into thinking the grass is greener out past it’s boundaries. We stop, plan, draw on the grass, and dream different dreams. Apparently all of the beautiful gardening photos I’ve been pinning on Pinterest all winter, and carefully showing him have not had the desired effect of inspiring him to believe that this isn’t a lot of work.
Many of these trees, and plants I grew from tiny little 4 inch pots. He’s rightfully worried that I am taking on too much, and I know that I am… but I need to be able to look out the window and see something green and growing, like veggies in beds, when he thinks we should just go to the farmers markets.
Granted it was a smaller space, and we had more abundant water. He doesn’t want the back yard cluttered, while I envision raised beds, gravel pathways, outlined gardens with hand poured stepping stone paths meandering through arbours, raspberry patches, and water features. He sees mosquito havens, and rocks being flung by lawn movers into expensive glass windows. I see blooms, he sees bust… he’s the muscle, I am the muddy boot dreamer. Never the twain shall meet? We shall see if we can meet in the middle, and both of us be happy.
It’s hardly earth shattering, but oh it was so good to do, and it smelled totally wonderfully breath catching freshened with spring scented air. Yes, I’ve turned into a fresh air frugalista, and started to use that clothesline that the former owners left us. You can’t beat the cost, FREE a few minutes of fresh air to hang the laundry, and a few hours of watching it gently twirl out there in the backyard and the laundry is air dried and fragrant, ready to be gathered up and inhaled. Makes me wonder why more of us don’t do this, think of the electricity and money we would save. The weather was more suited to the young, or those who thought to insulate themselves properly when I went out to hang up the laundry. Nippy, as in nip it in the bud if you thought the disappearing snow would hasten the spring like temperatures. I have forgotten how cold, wet fingers can get while they hang up clothes fresh from the washer, but it was worth it. The afternoon was sunny, and delightful, still with underlying cool, but a slight breeze.
You can tell it’s spring that’s coming along, there are kids playing in the driveways, sounds of laughter and skateboards, warbles of birdsong caught on a sunbeam. Neighbours are stirring from their winter dens, rakes are taken out of hibernation, and hello’s are exchanged. I haven’t hung up laundry on a line since I was very young… but I have not forgotten how to do it. Sheets doubled over so they don’t hang on the grass, and always allocate 3 of the new eco friendly bamboo clothespins per sheet. Socks doubled up, two per pin, shirts hung upside down, pants from the waistband, it’s all coming back to me now. And skivvies, well nothing would convince me to hang them outside, not for all the fresh air in the world, it’s inside with those babies.
The scent, the glorious fresh air, no chemical in the world can duplicate the smell of line dried laundry scent. I’ve missed that for so many years, we haven’t had a laundry line for decades. It’s spring, it’s sunny, it’s warming up soon. We’re hoping that all of the snow will disappear from the lawn, and my husband can finish raking those last little snow covered patches it certainly needs a good working over. We took 38 black plastic bags of yard waste to the dump, during their yard waste recycling period, it was originally a big bump in the backyard, but fir needles and branches will take forever to breakdown, and we have yet to build a proper composter. Some day soon I hope to have some sort of system that will accommodate our yard waste.
I’ve planted my hardier bulbs in pots for now, some dahlia, a fern, a peony, two colors of bleeding heart. Of course I need some containers around the house for color. They go outside during the sunny days, and perch inside the garage on the potting bench situated in the window on snowy days. Happy Sunday.
What is it about Men, and their recliners? That love/love relationship they have with big comfy chairs. Overstuffed, overly large, comfy, cushioned, clicker hiding, reclining comfort. Usually delegated downstairs to the “man cave” along with the big screen TV, so as not to add a note of discord to the beauty of the feminine decor that inhabits the main floor in many houses.
Years ago, one of the biggest choices, and compromises in our then new marriage was the choice of furniture for our new home. The experts will tell you it’s all about children, where to live, money… but it’s furniture, trust me. His stuff, your stuff, how to combine our stuff… big time. My husband came without baggage, other then a absolutely tasteless off white vinyl Swedish modern, IKEA knockoff, footstool equipped Sears special. He declared undying love for it. I declared undying love for him, but not for the chair. A tie breaker? A deal maker? Would it be him, or the chair, or would I have to live with the evil step child of a chair in order to be happily ever after with Prince Charming. We compromised, and went shopping. Thus began the search for “I’ll know it when I find it.” Months later, and more stores then I ever want to visit again, after numerous discussions, disagreements, compromises, and bargaining, he happily settled into a beautiful, clean lined recliner that we could bo th live with. It cost as much as a few mortgage payments but we were happy.
Finding something that pleased both of our tastes was a lesson in subjectivity. But we finally learned to live happily ever after with this new step child, both of us coming to love the chair that took center stage in our living room. Time marched on, we moved up here the chair took a beating from the moving company that manhandled many of our precious items. It started to grow metal springs like curly hairs from it’s back, transforming from a gentle well behaved piece of furniture to a squeaking, sagging, jolting beast shedding foam chips, and black greasy dust every time someone sat in it.
We gazed with dread upon flyers, and catalogues… how would we ever find a chair that would fit into our family without discord. We searched, he sat, I encouraged, he declined, I sighed. Chair after chair, store after store, there were contenders, close calls, and compromises. We were rather rusty at choosing, it had been more then a decade since we last adopted a step child chair. Then one snowy blustery, the first day of spring he found it. He spied it sitting in a row of 20 or so like minded chairs, he sat, he reclined… and declared it the one. Like true love, he knew instantly.
I’m not sure what the future will hold, it’s his true love, I am merely the [wicked] stepmother… but you know, it might grow on me like the other one did. Tell us about your recliner stories… especially if they are the horror story ones… lol.
Yesterday was the first official morning of spring. Spring wanted to celebrate, so she threw a party, but snow-one came. There was over a inch of beautiful fluffy white stuff covering the ground, the skies were dark, and gloomy. It certainly wasn’t very spring like weather at all, and we were disappointed.
But that was the morning, and by afternoon the snow was gone, spring was happy, the skies were gloriously bright and sunny. Even when we went for a walk the wind was kind, the birds were chirping, and the skies were bright and blue.
That spring, she sure knows how to celebrate with style.
And the best part? The snow encouraged a entire flock of tiny quail to run around our front yard, and search for food.
They ran right past my office window, what a change from the newspaper guy walking by. Talk about adorable, but I didn’t get a photo, maybe next time.
Bootsie had a rather harrowing experience yesterday afternoon, and now he’s quietly licking his paws, but he’s fine. It was a beautiful afternoon, the sun fooled us into thinking that the snow might disappear in the near future, the birds were chirping, and the dog walkers were doing laps in the neighbourhood. Our front yard for the Boo, is full of exciting trees, shrubs, scents, and birds, the only thing is it’s not fenced, so he is only out there when we are right there with him. The back yard is just plain lawn, no trees, no shrubs, no where to hide. Most of the time he is content to just explore around the house, but there are moments when he decides to take off immediately. And you think I would learn from the last few times, but no…
So there I was again, wandering the neighbours yard, can of cat food in hand, banging the spoon on the tin, I even knocked on the neighbours door. No answer, their garage door was wide open, the large black dog who poops on my lawn was no where to be seen. She is a nice dog, but she does like to bark at the Boo whenever she see’s him, even if Boo is safe in our backyard. This went on for a half hour, I knew in my heart that Bootsie is fine, he wasn’t lost, he just likes to hang out like a teenager, and he would return when he decided it was time. When we lived in the condo, he was always outside, and it’s a adjustment for him now that he is indoors more often. My husband began to help me call him, we wandered around our front lawn, constantly checking the neighbours backyard for the dog, and for the Boo. Suddenly there was a loud woof, and the big black dog bounded out the back door. Unfortunately Bootsie was in the neighbours back yard trapped between the chain link fence that separates our properties.
Bootsie ran as fast as he could towards the fence, and freedom but couldn’t climb because it was chain link, so he decided to escape up the large fir tree that was there. I was in the front yard and it took me a minute or so to get over the fence, during which time I ripped my only good pair of yoga pants. The dog woofed, and barked very pleased with this new, chase the cat game. Bootsie 8 feet up the tree, and starting to climb higher, furious, and terrified, meowed, and I managed to grab him just before he went any higher. I am over 6 feet tall, and that day I really appreciated my height.
Poor baby, his claws are all bleeding, his pride is hurt, and I am sure that he is sore today. After all he has never climbed more then three feet up a tree, and hung on for so long. So this time there was a happy ending to Bootsie’s most un-excellent adventure, and I guess we need to start a Bootsie land in the fenced backyard for him as soon as we can.
