I've been asked this question a gazillion times, it's a popular talking point. Most probably, you have been too. But really, within the realistic confines of work and training, do runners burn enough calories that they can afford to literally indulge in anything without the ill effects of a pudgy midsection? Let's take a closer look.
Can I get away with it?
Almost Impossible? With all of the mileage that runners put in each day, one would think that there's no way that we could get fat. Thing is, we tremendously underestimate the impact that excess calories could have on our body, and overestimate the amount we burn. For instance, do you know that just 100 extra calories per day equates into 10 lbs a year? That's like the mocha frappe you never should have had. In relative comparison, you need to burn 3500 calories to lose 1 lb. More or less, that's 100 calories per 1.6 k . A tall mocha frappe contains 290 calories. Thus, to burn it off, you need to run about 4.8 k. What fun.
This running thing isn't working for me Hmmm. I guess we all have our little quirky eating habits. I did some research, and came up with these different classifications with regards to how runners eat. These inputs came from a New York study made on the eating habits of 50 runners of different skill levels. Read up, and see whether you fall into any one of these categories (aminin)
The Night Owl For some crazy reason, there are those who barely eat anything during the day, then suddenly binge at night. This is much akin to loading up on a full tank of gas upon reaching your destination. Starving yourself during the day will more often than not leave you starving by late afternoon, resulting in a late-night binge - just when your natural metabolism is beginning to slow down. Slower metabolism + food binge = welcome to fat camp.
If you're an evening runner, it also messes up your energy supply and you would be more or less running on fumes.
Not eating = Binging Tip : Plan two small snacks each day (a handful of nuts or some cheese and crackers) so that you're not going to eat like those competitive food people come meal time.
Plan your running around your meals (or your meals around your running). That means fueling up an hour or two before heading out the door and refueling within an hour of finishing.
The Train-hard, Party harder type. Don't we all do this? We celebrate a good run or race by getting totally wasted at some watering hole in Ortigas or Makati. Totally acceptable? Perhaps. Health wise? Not exactly. A study in Medicine & Science in Sports & Exercise showed that serious recreational runners drink more alcohol than their sedentary counterparts--and the group surveyed was no exception. And don't think you could save up all those drinks for one all-out Friday night session, as research shows that it's better to just drink once a day than 7 drinks in one night (duh).
Tito Caloy is the ultimate drank rannerTip : Choose alcoholic beverages that are diluted for less impact. Instead of a glass of wine, drink a wine spritzer (do we even have this?)
Don't get drunk the night before the race. You'll be so dehydrated that you may end up throwing up on the side of the road. Saw one myself during a race. And sorry to disappoint, the guy who threw up wasn't internet legend/favorite drunk uncle Tito Caloy ( to newer readers, just google him :p) He's too world-class for that.
And finally, to somehow encapuslate the essence of this article, we have ... (drum roll please)
The Junk Food Machine
These are the people who eat whatever, whenever they want because they believe that running keeps them immune from fattiness. I used to fall under this category. Guilty as charged. As a result, I never really maximized the fitness gains even under a high-mileage program, just because I would eat like an obese person. Ice cream, cake, tons of rice, potato chips, chocolates. Name it, and my tummy had it. While not exactly tubby, my physique didn't exactly resemble that of a person who would run 50-60km a week.
My justification was "but I train my butt off. I can eat whatever the hell I want". I was a guy who was painfully aware of all those poor food choices, but in my unwillingness to change, had somehow convinced myself of this flawed mantra.. While it's true that distance runners need a lot of extra energy to fuel their exercise and could get away with a lot of crap, even high-mileage runners can't exist on junk food alone, since vending machine fare will never provide all the important nutrients needed to properly fuel runs and promote recovery.
Here's your 50k a week guy. How, er, fat este fit. Junk + regular meals + more junk = A ton of flab once you get off that heavy mileage. Why? Because you're sooooo used to it. So fine, maybe you could get away with it now. But once you kick into offseason, those bad habits will get back at you. Guaranteed. I could gain as much as 15 lbs offseason once the burn goes away. And truth be told, it sucks. So don't fall into the fluctuator trap. Strike a balance between the foods you need and the foods you want. Build each snack and meal around at least one real food group and enjoy junk food at the end of a meal. Also, Never eat junk food on an empty stomach. It almost guarantees a binge.
See that fat guy in the picture? Heavy mileage is no guarantee if you eat like a sumo wrestler. Take it from me. Hope this helps. Eat healthy and see you on the road everyone!
Editor's Note (as if there were one, just wanted it to sound cool lol) : This is coming out a tad bit late, ran into a combination of an extended blogging slump and a Bora weekend combined. Pardon the overall crummyness.
Racing in the South is always fun. Not too many people, fat chance you could even nab a podium on a good day. My too- few- and-far-in-between South races have always been pleasant experiences, thus joining RuNew in Alabang was somewhat of a no-brainer.
Not-So-Chump Change
Was looking for a race to test my knee out in a competitive setting, and I didn't really know too much about it except that it was sponsored by Asian Hospital and that it was for some charity. I thought it was a small-time race until I left with a bib, a timing chip, and P600 less in my pocket. A Rio race as it turns out. The timing chip instantly conjured visions of cash flying out of my wallet. Much to my chagrin, there was no singlet given but was instead promised a finisher's shirt. Grumble.
Babay P600.
Of Seguristas and Bratinellas I came from the Subic International Triathlon with Ultramarathoner Abby the day before, just cheered on some friends while grabbing some multisport inspiration. Was dead tired as we made the trip to the duuurty South. Coming off my unacceptable tardiness at Nat Geo, I wasn't going to take any chances this time.
Got there with an hour to burn more or less. While trolling the premises, saw elites Junrox/Tigerboy and a healthy Alfred/El Kyoshi walking in the shadows. More walking brought this random soundbite from this nosy-looking kid emerging from a Portalet :
Bratty Kid : Ewww yuck so kadiri inside Mommy it smells like a tae!Mom : Anak don't say that!Brattu Kid : But mooom! I need to make poopoo na!Mom : Hay nako just hold it till we get home. I still have a race.Bratty Kid : Waaaaah!Mom : Wag na maarte, ano you want sa portalet or in the grass?B ratty Kid : Mommy the grass smells like a tae also!Mom : !!!!
What a brat.
In The Presence of Family After being a veritable tourist over at the multisport arena, it was nice hanging out in more familiar surroundings where I actually knew someone. I ran into Takbo.ph power couple Jinoe and Que, a retro-looking Marvin along with Z paired with a rare PatCon sighting. Not too many people though. Distance? Price? Still, it was nice to be back in familiar territory.
Fun before the gun
An Outside Chance Just before the gun went off, I was looking around. No familiar faces. As always, my competitive juices were flowing. Give or take a couple of elites, and with the stronger runners at 16k, I hastened to strive for a top 10 finish. And as the lead pack went off, I found myself at the tail end. Hey, I have a shot at this. Law of averages. I have to get it one of these days right?
Toe to Toe with Elite Gal
ITB woes exacerbated at the Nat-Geo race have prevented me from executing my master plan of doing "maintenance" 10k training before plunging into an 8-week program for Milo. In short, here I was blatantly out of shape, preparing to race a 10k on sheer guts alone. And as most of us know, oftentimes that just isn't enough.
As I was trailing the lead pack, I did the requisite headhunting to maintain pace. I ran smack into a strong lady runner who had nyort nyorts and that batak 5% body fat look. Hmm. She was impossible to shake off at 4:20 pace. Was thinking, no way she could maintain this. But then again, who said I could maintain it myself? Kapal ko talaga. (I would later learn she would take 3rd for the ladies) Lol. I told myself, I have to want this more than she does. With that pervading thought in mind, I made my move at the 3k mark and made her eat dust. Wohooo!
She ate Gingerbread dust... well, sorta.
On Gassing Amidst Those Southern Rolling Hills
Of course, that short-lived success didn't last long. A continuous uphill stretch and I was a goner a kilometer later, my elite galpal kicking stardust in my face along the way. No wind, no legs. I was gasping like a chubby fugu fish out of water. Fail.
Swim away fugu fish, swim awaaaay. Okay that was weird.
The Duel With MaselMan
Before the race began, I noticed these two buffed-up dudes who looked like Fitness First spinning class instructors with matching singlets to boot. Figured they were, er, best friends. Until they hugged each other good luck. Tightly. Anyway, at one point early on I passed bromance dude #1. During my mid-race fade, bromance dude #2 zoomed by me at what I reckoned to be near-max HR judging by his breathing. He would do a long walk break then go all out again. I surmised that redlining your HR in bursts and spurts would cause you to gas out later on (running strategists please back me up here).
So for about a 2 kilometer stretch, we would go back and forth at it. At least I had some sort of live metronome to salvage whatever remained out of my pace strategy. Nearing Km 7 in posh AAV, I decided to go for it when I sensed he was fading. Score one for the Gingerbread dude.
Bromance City
The Pain and the Agony
The adrenalin was pumping as a persistent foe was vanquished. Slowly hiking the pace back up to a decent (given the course) 4:57 pace, everything was on cruise control primed for an even stronger finish. By my estimate, I was at about 11th to 14th places at this point. Elite gal (who whooped me earlier) was actually within my line of sight. Then a particularly disconcerting sharp pain shot up my left knee. Dang. ITB mode. Ignore. More pain. More ignoring. Finally a stinger had me hopping on one leg in excruciating pain. Dammit. No way. I worked so hard only to throw it all away. Just 2k to go! I had stretched this all week, even Salonpas rollered it so much to the point that my room already smells like my Lolo's CR. This sucks. Really does. I'll try to run it off. Aaaaaaaaah. Aray. Arouch. Mommmyyy. Oh great bromance dude just passed me. With a smile on his face. Someone kill me now. Maybe I can just roll to the finish line.
ITB Fail. More frustrated than hurt, I gingerly(no pun intended) attempted to jog to the line . I even ran into old buddy Gary who was on the way to finish his 5k. (Ayan nabati na kita bro. Burger ko. Smirk.) Totally dejected, I surrendered the final two splits at 7:40 and 6:41 en route to limping home with a 53:14. I would later see that this effort somehow managed to snag 23rd place in a lean field. Sigh.
Post-Mortem Overall, the race was a lot harder than I had expected or prepared for, and most of the people who raced it would pretty much agree. The relative humidity was off the charts, people were sweating like a presidential candidate on a live televised debate. Most weren't too thrilled about the finisher's shirt though, saying it was "pambahay " quality (don't shoot the messenger). For a premium priced, chip timed race, I guess they were expecting more, given the absence of a singlet.
On a personal note, it's back to the drawing board. Not only was I out of shape, it's apparent that the ol' ITB is nowhere near 100%. A break is impending. Maybe I'll go to the beach or something.
But I guess what's more important is that I actually made it to the end of this article. Been in a terrible writing slump lately. If you're a basketball fan, I'm pulling off the equivalent of a 4- for- 21 effort. Guess this is a step in the right direction. Law of averages. I have to get it one of these days right?
"To describe the agony of a marathon to someone who's never run it is like trying to explain color to someone who was born blind."- Hal Higdon, running coach
As of this writing, I am still recovering from the effects, both physical and emotional, of my first-ever marathon. Yes, my very first full mary. The big V word. Surprised? Yes, your fun Gingerbread scribe was a veritable newbie at the Condura Skyway Marathon. Although not a stranger to the distance having completed a 50k ultramarathon eons ago (okay maybe it was just last year), this was my first stab at racing a 42k. So how did it go? Let's do a quick backgrounder first.
Always the running event of the year
"The will to win means nothing if you haven't the will to prepare." - Juma Ikangaa, 1989 NYC Marathon winner
Having never actually "trained" for anything before and content to do mindless Gingerbread jagging with more emphasis on pacute than pakondisyon , I had planned for Condura to be my debut marathon as early as October. Using a program concocted by buddy/masochist/monster Edward Kho of Conquer Corregidor fame (he threw down a scintillating 3:27 by the way) , I proceeded to immerse myself in the so-called science of the sport. Tempo runs. Intervals. Ladders. Hill Work. Yasso 800's. Things that had sounded absolutely Greek to me became staples of my everyday routine.
Much to my surprise,the effects of the program were immediate and remarkably consistent. Each race seemed to incredibly usher in the advent of a new personal best. By the time that Condura beckoned, I had chopped 6 minutes off my 10k time and about 37 minutes from my 21k. Brimming with confidence, I had high hopes for my debut marathon. Feeling as good as I've felt in years, this Gingerbread newbie was ready to conquer that breezy, mid-morning party in the southern sky.
Newbies have it hard.
"The marathon can and will humble you. " - Bill Rodgers , four-time Boston Marathon winner
I really had no idea what to expect. Certain "scientific" calculations had me primed for a highly aspirational time based off my 10k and 21k results. But I had my doubts. While my speed work was fine, I had been remiss on my Sunday long runs - a byproduct of increasing family and work demands. The longest runs I had put in were two 30k dingers, and even if I felt in my gut that this was lacking, my innate stubbornness was telling me that my training and heart would somehow bring me home. Misguided naievity? But then again, this mindset has somehow paid dividends in the past. Let's see how the whole thing unravels with my retro race diary,I'll even put in a time stamp so it's like we're actually there.
Retro Race Diary?
2:30 : I wake up in a dazed, zombie-like state, the anxious effects of having roughly three hours and 37 seconds worth of sleep written all over my face. As with most newbies, I could barely sleep the night before. Tossed, turned, then eventually settled on watching an illicit copy of Spirit Of The Marathon. Thank God for YouTube. Much to my chagrin though, I didn't cry. Sob.
3:30 : With no traffic to contend with, I had an unexpectedly easy time parking. Hydrobelt? Check. Ipod? Check. Condura 2009 "street cred" spare shirt?Check. Wallet and license? Um, er, gulp. I'm screwed.
3:45 : After spending about 10 minutes getting lost looking for the starting corral, I finally saw my running buddies. Admittedly, I'm tense. Tight even. Too many thoughts going on in my head. Strategies. Nutrition. Pace. That Yeng Constantino song that's always on Love Radio. Fudge, I give up. I have come to the realization that I have absolutely no idea what I'm getting myself into. P.S- I got some grief for showing up in white shorts. UGH.
Yeng Constantino Fanboy?
4:00 : Well-modulated (and perhaps well-paid) host leads a fun countdown that seemed half a second behind. He must have been sleepy. It's funny how he prods people that "we have a wonderful surprise for you ", when it's so obvious that he's referring to a fireworks display to open the race. Anticlimactic to a certain extent, but made room for some unintentional comedy.
Host : 3, 2, 1... .. and now here's your surprise!
(eerie silence)
Host: Here! Game! Now na! Now! Now!
Fireworks are always fun though, awesome start to any race.
I love fireworks. 4:15 : For some insane reason, I thought I could hang with the big boys on this. I started with a pace group that included Junrox, Totoy, Chris and Wilnar, all certified monsters. Why the uncalled for bravado? Once again, I have to reiterate that I have no idea how to approach this. I'm a serial positive splitter in the short to middle distances. So I guess I was sticking close to home for this. Also, the idea was to maintain a 5:00- 5:10 minute pace for the first 21k, something not completely unattainable based from my previous results.
Note to self : Every time I'm with Wilnar in a pace group, something crazy happens. For instance, this 10k race in BF the plan was to open with a 4:30 min/km pace. Race begins. Less than 5 minutes later I can't breathe. Glance to watch - 3:45. Yeah! So here , less than 3k into the race, I was straining. Not so much, but noticeable. Glance to watch - 4:30! 4:30!!! Whatever happened to 5:10? Wilnar has done it again! With a rabid fear of bottoming out later on, I motioned to the speedsters that I would be falling back.
And with labored b reathing defining my every step, I was all alone once more. 4:51 : 51 minute 10k. 3 minutes slower than usual. I think am doing good. I feel the pressure. I feel.. like I'm fading. What? No way! This early? As I go down to Buendia coming from Kalayaan, people are starting to catch up with me. What is going on? Seems the ol' mental makeup is shaky today. Team Hardcore Ultraman/Frontrunner Magazine progenitor Jonel "Bugobugo" Mendoza caught up with me, and it was a tremendous blessing that he was there. The pleasant conversation towed me through the near-entirety of Buendia, and for awhile things seemed... okay.
5:15 : Entering the Skyway. Being a 10k runner last year, this was my first time. And it sure was awesome. Well, until the part that I couldn't breathe anymore. Gasp. What to do what to do. Not good. Hey, my first and only time to be on the Skyway for free! Yipee! Gasp.
Conquering... . is easier said than done 5:30: Ominous statement of the day from some random guy who kept on talking to me on the road - "You're going too fast, you're going too fast! We have to take it slow or we burn out right away". Sounds like my ex-girlfriend on our first date. Smirk.
Let's take it slow? 5:39: They say that too much thinking can kill a man. And it's true. I fussed so much about my strategy that I ended up doing things I never really do. I walked all water stations, ostensibly to save on energy. But each time, the person I was running with was so far off that I couldn't catch up anymore. I felt my heart rate plummet every time I stopped. Something was going to go awry. I could feel it. Jonel disappeared from the horizon. So did Takbo.ph buddy Kampugers (don't judge me, it's a term of endearment) when I took a break. Panic was setting in. I was going nowhere real fast.
5:59 : Halfway mark. 1:59. In the vernacular, tipid na tipid? At nine minutes off my regular time, the prevailing mindset here is that the energy I'm conserving will get me through. Celebrity sighting : Jaymie/TBR. She looks awful strong out there. I could have sworn she was running with white compression shorts model/Runnr guru OJ. Gave a lame, token attempt to run with them, and poof! I eat dust. Note to self : Buy white compression shorts.
Classic OJ here. 6:30 : Pain (p
n) - An unpleasant sensation occurring in varying degrees of severity as a consequence of injury, disease, or emotional disorder. Pain. Yeah. At roughly the 25k mark, I was in a lot of it. The pressure, over-analyzation, and a glaring lack of long runs most probably caused a way premature case of cramps and wall-bonking. Really odd. At Baldie Rizal Day 32k, at around the same point I felt I could have gone all day. Here, I was spent. As runner after runner passed me, the prospect of a strong finish was slowly slipping away.
What was really happening at 25k
7:00 : Getting hot. Am starting to slip into a dazed, zombie-like mode. Oftentimes, I'd try to latch on to people I know, casual conversation helps take your mind off the pain. Oftentimes I'd stop. Mentally, I'm in shambles. I thought I prepared well enough for this.
7:15 : I just realized for the first time that hey, it's nice here in the Skyway. Awesome even. I was so engrossed with all this competitive running-related crap that I'm starting to forget the little joys of our sport.
Find the joy in it GBM! 7:25 : Badly fading toward the latter stretch, I saw Condura boss Pat Concepcion along with his pseudo entourage. In a terrible daze, I willed myself to run with their group if only to get towed a kilometer or two.With the cameras rolling, he must have been wondering who was this weird character running behind him, posing for pictures even with a weird smile. Aaah the joys of Gingerbread anonymity.
It pays to be part of the Patcon entourage7:30 : Sound bite from Milo National finalist Vener/Run Unlimited nearing 32k - "Musta newbie? Tara let's go konti na lang! Mag 6mpk tayo!" As much as I wanted to, my legs had already gone to some Carribean island sipping ice tea on the beach while I had to drag their useless carasses around. Hmph.
7:50 : Oh thank God for the Takbo.ph aid station! Having manned this in the past, I was never really able to fully grasp the value of this altruistic initiative until I was on the receiving end. While experiencing a level of pain somewhere in between "roasting over hot coals" and "multiple astral projections", there's no better salve than warm smiles from supportive friends with a side helping of healthy encouragement. I was so warped by this point that when I ran into moody buddy/podium regular Zinnia on her bike, I have reason to believe this following conversation actually took place :
Z : Just a couple more meters to the aid station! We have stuff for you there! GBM : Grunt. Uuuuuuh. Z: Hoooooooy!! Are you okaaay? GBM : Uuuuuuuuuh
Z : Anyway, just go there! Zombie! I was so overjoyed to have recovering speedster Mac and an unknown, muscular man we shall just call "Manong" massage my weary legs. I guess it's the only time I'll ever thoroughly enjoy a massage given by two , er, men. Que handed me a banana, and Sir Amado's snapped up some pictures. All these served as a welcome respite, and I felt like I was on a rejuvenated high entering the homestretch.
Manong's steady hands did the trick8:20 : Kalayaan Flyover redux beckons. Been a worthy adversary on so many occassions. I think I've solved it though. But... . not... . on... .. this... . dang I gotta walk. Kalayaan Flyover 7, GBM 6.
8:30 : So near yet so far. Nearing collapse, I am dazed, confused, and running completely on empty.
8:40: This seems to be the longest 3km stretch of my life.Oh my god. You have got to be kidding me. When is it going to end? Just as I am about to sprawl on the pavement, I run into running bloggers Vicky (incredibly running a marathon on a whim! Awesome!) and hot bod Rodel/Argonaut. We are all pretty much in the same boat, literally crawling. Peace by inches. Have... . to... .. gut.. this... out.
8:45: Trying to fartlek my way home, I almost collapse into Argow, "Kristo" -style. I have absoulely nothing left to give.
8:55 : One last stab at glory, no way I'm finishing this like a cripple. Months of training leads to one last tempo run. One last burst of speed to bring it home. Don't give up now!
Last shot at glory... 8:56: And it's DONE! Yeah!!!!! Was never happier to see a finish line. The most agonizing 42.195 kms of my life done in 4:56:03. I wanted to cry... but the tears wouldn't come. Must have been the dehydration. The marathon has chewed me up, spit me in pieces and brought me to my knees. Friends say I am pale, and a massive headache follows. I can barely walk straight.
I missed my goal in a bad way.
But you know what they say about marathons? When you cross the finish line, no matter how slow or fast, it will change your life forever. And I firmly believe that. As all of this was starting to sink in, a stark realization suddenly dawned upon me. I'm... I'm a marathoner now! A real one! I'm now officially part of the .1 of 1% of the world's population to have finished one! The time doesn't even matter. What matters is I crossed that line in one piece in spite of the overwhelming urge to just flat out quit. I felt like I have left my blood, guts, and soul out there. And at that exact moment, at that time and place, in spite of the terrible physical beating I took...
I was at peace. And overwhelmingly happy.
Guess that's the spirit of the marathon for you right there.
But being healthy is priceless. We all know that you can’t buy your health, and what we do to our bodies now, will be our results later. Ah potato chips you will forever be my nemesis. So in comes our juicer, we just got the shiny new stainless steel quiet as a church mouse juicer. In my mind potato chips are on one side of the teeter totter and Frankie, and the juicer are on the other side.
Some day’s I will allow myself to indulge in those crunchy treats, [just a small bowlful] and the tetter totter will drop towards the 20% not the best for you side, and the days I that I eat fully healthy and exercise properly, [that’s where Frankie comes in] the tetter totter goes up on 80% of the good stuff. Well it works for me… Frankie, and the potato chips.
Anyways I love juicing… and am experimenting with all sorts of fun combos of fruit and veggies… it’s just so expensive to get them right now, but like I said good health is worth it. So far we have celery, pear, green pepper, carrot, and apple, a fresh perk you up splash of healthy. Add some cucumber for a green flavourful treat.
Then there is my mid winter “I’m in love with this” dark tangerine colored mix of Blood oranges, beets, and ginger which is supposed to be the new super food, bug fighter, and immune booster.
It can be mellowed out with a bit of cucumber, sweet bell peppers, and carrots… for a totally yum drink.
So what healthy habits are you picking up lately… and are they starting to stick?
Yes, Yes YES! Those were the words ringing in my head as I was sprinting to the finish line at yesterday's Philippine International Marathon 10k race. Not prematurely as was my folly in the numerous times I have faltered in the past - I made sure the celebration came when the mat was right in front of me. I took time to savor the moment... and sought to retrace the twists and turns leading up to it.
Finally! Yay! What's the big deal? To some, a sub-50 finish may not seem like a particularly big deal. But to me, it takes on a certain measure of significance as it represents the pinnacle of a particularly tough climb from the recesses of an unhealthy downward spiral. Not to mention finally getting past a mental hurdle that had incessantly gotten the best of me. I was actually so close to giving up on it already. Just let it go man. It ain't meant to be.
Not in the blood Why was this the case? I was thinking, maybe I just don't have it in me. You know how some people are just natural athletes? Introduce them to running, and right off the bat they could run a 45 minute 10k split with no training at all. I was never one of those people. Not even close. Blame it on poor genes. I have had the benefit of having totally unathletic parents, unless you consider competitive eating a sport. In high school, could never run the fastest, nor jump the highest. My friends could touch the basketball rim. I could touch the ... . board. I even tried killing myself with Jumpsoles, ever remember those things? Nah, didn't work. Not in the blood I guess.
My Dad could take this dude any day, name the place Humble BeginningsMy first 10k was a 1:28. In what was to be a precursor to my positive split strategy, I started out really fast... . only to bottom out during the 2nd half. I had no conditioning to speak of. I was also um, fat. 205 lbs. Gak. I was so conscious of my pata that I wore jogging pants. Yeah, the baggy type that was all the rage in the 1990's. I seemed to have been passed by every Tom, Dick and Harry along with Jane. Depressingly, I nearly threw up at the finish line. Yeah. Talk about being out of shape.
Grandpa beat me fair and square
Getting Ambitious Long,painstaking hours of lonesome training later and I found myself clearing the sub-60 and sub-55 marks in rapid succession. Hey, I like this. I'm actually... getting to be good at this. Admittedly, I'm a competitive running junkie. Don't know if that's a good thing, but I constantly benchmark against the very best runners in our group. I want to force myself to get better. Wanting to take my game to the next level, I discovered that lowering the bar from 55 - 50 was becoming exponentially harder.
Wanna go up the ladder? It's harder than you think.
Breakdown City
My best shot came at Ayala Eco-Dash. Let you in on my thought process during those crucial final moments :
They say that running is just as much mental as physical, sometimes even more. I completely agree, 100%. Here I was , on the cusp of beating one of my biggest running goals, and I was doing a completely chokejob. Mentally, I was messed up. I was freaking out and panicking. Prematurely celebrating, I was even thinking of a title for the blog post already. ... and ended up missing it by 15 seconds. Damn. Oh the heartbreak.
Breakdowns put you in esteemed company This is It? In an attempt to finally slay the ghosts of 10k breakdowns past, I had resolved to join this year's Philippine International Marathon. Good friend/"doping like effect coach/Conquer Corregidor head honcho Edward Kho told me "this was the flattest course I have ever ran". Knowing that the route would take me across Roxas Blvd, I said to myself,hey, maybe I'll get lucky this time. I rushed to get to the venue as early as 3:30 in a lame attempt to meet Sir Jovie aka Bald Runner to get my 1,000 Km club shirt. No such luck. I was there 3:30, took me about 40 minutes to find a parking slot. By that time they had already gone off for the start of the 42k. Boo. Maybe next time.
So in short, I waited for several hours until the 6:00 am gun. Former President FVR actually dropped by, gave us runners in the front rows a quick pep talk. He seems like a nice guy. In hindsight though, don't they all?
Panic Mode As the race began, I was a little off-tangent because everyone next to me was sprinting like a madman. You sort of get caught up in it. Or maybe that's just the sheer lack of conditioning, nursing flu-like symptoms all week. Took me some time to get into any rhythm whatsoever, and the splits showed it - 4:13. 4:35, 4:55. Oh no. It's not supposed to go down that fast . Nooooo!!!! Breathe. Relax. And just as I felt I was getting my bearings back, i ran right smack into the last thing I wanted to see - a flyover. So much for a completely flat course. Noooo. I felt my sub-50 dreams evaporate right then and there.
What a waste. I lost pace with those two flyovers. Tried pushing it, but knocked the wind out of my sails right after. Losing pace rapidly. And my woes were compounded by the 5k contingent at their turnaround point, as I had to labor through a veritable "Alay Lakad" crowd. At the 8k mark, I had a 5:17 split (worst of the race) with no relief in sight. I could barely breathe. Legs weren't there anymore. Call it a day. Game over.
Freaking out was more like it. Digging Deep Then I thought to myself. Here I go again. At Eco-dash, I gave up mentally. I just threw in the towel. Then came the realization - just 10 more minutes of agony for the glorious satisfaction of victory. I once read a quote that said "when it starts to really hurt, that's the time to push it even harder" You have no idea how much those little snippets actually helped. Digging deep, I went headhunting and went after a really speedy guy wearing a KOTR 2007 singlet. Setting aside the pain, I went for broke, knowing each second wasted brought me farther and farther away from my dream. The 9k split was starting to look encouraging. 44:10. I can do this! I ran like there was no more tomorrow. All of those days training in the rain, in the heat, at 4:00 am in the morning - this was what it all comes down to. Right then and there, you had to leave your blood and guts on the road. There simply was no other way. You HAD to want it. It wasn't going to present itself on a silver platter. And upon hitting the line, I was numb at first. Then it registered. 49:12. Oh yes. Yes. YES. I finallly did it! I finally breached the sub-50 mark!!! Yahoo!!!
My mind drifted to all those past failures, those past trials. The inherent lack of athleticism. How the goal had seemed so lurid to begin with, and steeling yourself for the eventuality that maybe you just didn't have it in you. Just let it go man. It ain't meant to be. It probably never will be. Basking in the glow of victory, i was happy, overjoyed even, that for one day at least... .
What makes a gardener’s heart quicken with joy? Every gardener has those special things that pluck our gardener’s hearts strings.
The acquisition of a new plant from a lengthy list of “be on the look out for.” Wandering through nurseries aimlessly, no destination in mind. Spending time enjoying the flowers and k nowing that you are not responsible for deadheading, or watering, just for sniffing, and admiring. A impulse buys that turn out to be a treasure, giving more blossoms then you had hoped for. A cherished plant pushing out it’s first blooms of the season. Summer heat bringing on the start of overflowing veggie bounty. Tools of the trade Gloves that fit… like a glove, as if they are made for you. Trowels fitted to the curve of the hand, slicing through the soil. Favourite gardening clothes… perfectly comfortable, easy to wash. Gardening trugs, workhorses that carry weeds, soil, water, tools, and add splashes of color as they work. Tools that make the job easier, rakes, shovels, spades in duplicates, a set in front, and a set in back. No wandering around looking for the right tool. The dirty stuff Soil sifted through fingers, weed free, rich in nutrients. Finding a long slimy earthworm, knowing that it means healthy soil, where only dust and weeds grew before. Compost, black, moist recycled gold. In with the old, out with the new. Organic veggies, fresh from the earth, and a side order of sunny days. No pesticides, knowing that you, the birds, and the critters, can touch, sniff, pluck, and admire chemical free.
Plant it and they will come Butterflies the colourful kaleidoscopes of fragile tissue in flight. Bird song as background music, the happy buzzing of bees, with their scatter brained antics diving into bud after bud, emerging dusted with pollen. Insects that devour those that devour your leaves, bug karma at it’s best. The circle of life is in the garden… you grow, you eat, you get eaten. Designer colors From Mother Nature’s palette, never out of style. hot pinks, bright oranges, golden greens, shady greys, glistening whites, sunny yellows, shaggy browns. Passionate purples, limey chartreuse, charcoal, peach, raspberry, cobalt blues, vivid violets. From beginning gardeners, to established, along with those who garden only with their eyes, may there be many moments when you realize how beautiful a garden is, and what reward we reap when we sow our hopes into the soil.
It’s hot here, and going to get even hotter… but I am keeping cool with infused water. I was out gathering [sweating in the garden] some goodies, and decided to throw a few things together to see what I could come up with. Use the juice of one lime, add a few cucumber slices, some fresh parsley, and a few sprigs of fresh mint. This not only tastes great, it’s sugar free, pour over ice and enjoy. Stay cool!
