G ingerbreadman closed his email with a weird feeling in his stomach. No, it wasn't that. It was an invite. To a presser. What an honor. Thus, in spite of his heavy workday which included a marathon 3-hour meeting, being suspected of being a student insurgent at the Malacanang gates and giving a 2 hour speech to 500 people (only one is made up, and it's not what you think), he went on to Megamall to roll the dice, eagerly anticipating the thrill of a fresh experience in his life away from the corporate bustle.
ADB Avenue, 6:10 pm Oh boy. So the secret's out eh. They've been mumbling about this for like a month now. And now it could be said. What the big deal? Here's the big deal, and I've been getting snippets of this here and there. Apparently, it's called the Kenny's Open 2009 Urbanite Run. U rbanite? Urban? Hmmm. Nite? They need a copy-editor. Maybe they could hire me. But then again I hate copy editing. So this is THE event. In partnership with Takbo.ph of course. The one we've been hearing for like... forever. Oh boy Jinoe made me a moderator. What an honor. Ranks up there with the time that I took 3rd place in our quiz bee as a 4th grader. So what if only three showed up! There was a big storm that day and... Oh crap the MMDA dudes are flagging me down for coding. Goodbye 100 bucks.
Cool!
Not Cool!
GBM arrived at the designated venue 5 minutes early, still smarting from being divested ofP100 by the very people who were tasked to make our streets a better place. The anxiety of being alone amidst the more senior members of the runner/ blogger community dissipated as he saw a familiar face in Doc Lyndon aka Malmonmd. He remembered how Doc had warmly welcomed him at the Condura CLP as a newbie, made him feel like he belonged. I'll pay homage to the gesture one day to a nervous newbie when I'm in a position of seniority. But at this particular juncture, at this precise time and place - he was the newbie once more. Doc's amiable demeanor jostled him from his daydreams. Queenie is there. BR was there awhile ago, he just went out. Go inside and make yourself comfy. BR? Bald Runner? THE Bald Runner? If that was a portent of things to come, this was going to be a good night.
Doc Lyndon with his beautiful familyI am with Legends Upon entering, a throng of familiar and not-so-familiar faces greeted his entrance. Looking around, he surveyed the scene in earnest anticipation as his underlying excitement was nearing its zenith. The venue isn't enclosed. I hope we could hear one another amidst this mad, rush hour dinner crowd. Friendly faces abound. Takbo.ph elite idol Vener,also known in blogging parlance as Run Unltd. was there. One day I hope to be as fast as him. Okay maybe not. But still, I appreciate that he was at that finish line when I finished that insane 50k Ultra. ( Editor's Note : Yes, I owe you an entry on that epic life experience and yes I'll get to it once I finish the things that I need to do. Things that, uh, actually pay me money. I need to feed my family, put food on the table. Or maybe I just need the money to buy running thingamajigies) Trail runner extraordinaire/overall nice guy/foodie connoisseur Sir Rene aka The JazzRunner was there, exchanging niceties and running stories as they eventually settled on being "seatmates" for the duration of the presser. A small group was formed at one of the tables., members of the running blogosphere no doubt. A quick glance showedthat one of them was Vimz aka Kulit on the Run . While he was always a fan of her site and layout, as much as he wanted to say "hi" his inherent Gingerbread nature dictated him to lean towards the "shy" end of the spectrum.At least for the first 5 minutes. There were also Roselle The Running Diva and Bards of BananaRunning sightings. From the Takbo.ph ranks, Coach/Mod Pojie was indisposed and couldnt make it. 5k pacer/motivational speaker Rico of Sheer Will fame was running late. Boss Jinoe was apparently stuck in traffic. But the real treat was yet to come. Two running luminaries , veritable legends in the field were in the house. And our protagonist was reduced to a blubbering piece of blubber.
Sir Rene and Vener
Queenie, Roselle, Vener, and Bards Unbelievable. I finally got to talk to the irrepressible Bald Runner . Sir Jovie himself. He's a really nice guy. You'd think he'd have a gruff military guy vibe. But he's really cool. Gave me a ton of tips on how to recover from an ultramarathon, and how to increase my speed. I'm glad he likes my work. That just inspires me to write more and spend less time on my day job! (alt tabs to "Communications Strategy 2009" as boss passes by) Whew. Anyway, another tremendous experience was to meet race walk legend /shipping magnate/big hearted nice guy Sir Amado Castro, who's also known for his popular Reinier6666 blog. Handshakes, warm exchanges ensued. I'm really touched by his kind words for our blog, as well as his unending support in helping our running community , the Takbo.ph Aid Station during the Botak ultra a prime example. Sigh, a good day indeed.
Photo-op to remember The Grub Before the Storm, 7:30 pm Without any trepidation, the Jazzrunner ordered a bountiful feast fit for a, er, hungry blogger. No further elaboration required.
Yum. Nuff Said. Presser Proper, 7:45 The briefing was led by agency rep/ DLSU alum Denise and fun guy/Finish Line head honcho Vince Mendoza. Coach Rio soon followed suit, presumably to help out with the question and answer portion. The concept was novel. The first ever night run with a disposable timing chip system is to be launched. Side events to follow. Coolpix capable. Glow in the dark bracelets. Refletorized bibs. Double the marshals.Free food when you register. Help out a wonderful cause. What more do you need to know?
No mic, no prob for Denise
There it is
Amazing how Vince does that hand gesture
Coach clarifying things during Q&A
This presentation is cool. Even without a mic! Oh there's a mic now! Just in time for the closing remarks! BR is asking about the security issues since it's a night run. It's been prevalent nowadays, you know. Oh god did I just do a Pacquiao. Anyway, it's admirable how Vince and Coach Rio handle his queries, and it's also admirable how Sir Jovie volunteered Team BR to help out with security. That right there is the spirit of volunteerism that we should espouse amongst oursleves, if only to give back to our community. Okay, so everything is working out great except that... oh lord I forgot to take notes! How am I supposed to write about this thing? Guesswork? Can I just make it up? Oh shoot. Hmm.. I know... why not we tap our ET running buddies from The Collective to get me back in time and get me that info. ... ... ... .. Okay that sure was fast. Run Strong and Prosper my preternatural friends. So here's what we got...
Now, Kenny Rogers is taking another leap forward in its dedication to health - one that is bound shake up a storm! It is with great pride that we present: The Kenny’s Open 2009 Urbanite Run ! On August 15 th at 8:00 p.m. , at Bonifacio Global City in the Fort, a truly one-of-a-kind run will take place. And as the name suggests, The Kenny’s Open Urbanite Run will happen at night!
With an advanced timing chip system to record runners’ progress and distances of 5/10/15 kilometers, the Urbanite Run is designed especially for the young and young at heart of the Metro. Participants 18 years old and above are eligible to sign up!
Joining is easy. Simply stop over at any Kenny Rogers Roasters branch or the new Kenny’s Roast and Grill restaurant at the Powerplant and purchase the Urbanite Run Ticket to Eat, Run and Donate your way to fitness! Registration can be done manually or via online & mobile through www.kennys.com.ph.
EVENT DETAILS:
1. The Kenny’s Open 2009 Urbanite Run will be held on August 15, 2009 (Saturday) at The Fort. Official call time will be at 8:00pm .
2. The run will a cco mmodate a total of 3,000 runners, 18 YO and above, with divisions of 5, 10, and 15 kilometer distances.
HOW TO JOIN:
1. Purchase the Urbanite Run Ticket
a. To join the Kenny’s Open 2009 Urbanite Run, interested participants must purchase an Urbanite Run Ticket for P600 at any Kenny Roger’s Roasters branch or the new Kenny’s Roast and Grill restaurant at the Powerplant.
b. Interested participants may also purchase the Urbanite Run ticket through the web or on their mobile phones by visiting www.kennys.com.ph . An electronic claim voucher will be issued to registrants to claim their Urbanite Run Ticket at any Kenny Roger’s Roasters branch or the new Kenny’s Roast and Grill restaurant at the Powerplant.
Urbanite Run Tickets will entitle participants to:
a. Eat: Bearers are entitled to an Urbanite meal from Kenny Rogers. Simply present the Urbanite Run Ticket at any Kenny Rogers branch to claim the Urbanite meal. Redemption period from July 15 to Aug. 15, 2009 .
b. Run: The Urbanite Run Ticket will serve as the runner’s registration voucher, to be attached to their registration form, if they register manually. See below for registration details.
c. Donate: Serve as runner’s donation to Hands On Manila Foundation. On the day of the run, bearers are to drop the “Donate” portion of their Urbanite Run Tickets at the designated box on-site.
2. Register for the Run
Registration will be from July 15 to August 11, 2009 .
Participants may register online or through designated registration sites. For other details, please contact Vince Mendoza at (632) 7031736.
a. Online Registration Process
a. Interested participants are to log on to www.kennys.com.ph , click on the “Events” tab, follow the Urbanite Race link, and register their details online.
b. Once registered, participants must submit their details and settle payment via credit card/ GCash or ATM.
c. An electronic claim voucher will be issued to registrants to claim their Urbanite Run Ticket at any Kenny Roger’s Roasters branch or the new Kenny’s Roast and Grill restaurant at the Powerplant.
d. Participants may also choose to have their race kits delivered at a minimal cost. Delivery address to be indicated in the online registration form.
e. Confirmation email will be sent to the participant’s email within 24 hours upon online payment.
b. Registration thru designated registration sites.
a. Interested participants must go to the available Finishline Registration booths at the four (4) pre-identified marathons:
i. 2 nd GIG Run, UP Diliman
ii. Milo Manila Elimination, Luneta Grandstand
iii. Robinson’s Fit & Fun Wellness Buddy Ru, NBC Tent
iv. Globe Run For Home on July 19 at The Global City, Fort Bonifacio , Taguig City
b. Interested participants may also register their details at Nike Park and Runnr and claim race materials on-site.
c. Manual registration will also be available to last-minute participants on the night of the run – within 1hr before call time.
EVENT DAY:
1. Call time
On the night of the run, participants must arrive at 8:00 pm. Assembly and gun start times of each division are as follows:
Distance
Assembly
Gun Start
5K
TBD
8:30PM (TBC)
10k
TBD
8:45PM (TBC)
15k
TBD
9:00PM (TBC)
2. Prizes
a. The following cash prizes will be awarded to first, second, and third place finishers of each division, to be awarded after the run finishes.
Distance
5 Kilometers
10 Kilometers
15 Kilometers
Male
Female
Male
Female
Male
Female
1 st Place
Php 5,000
Php 5,000
Php 5,000
Php 5,000
Php 5,000
Php 5,000
2 nd Place
Php 3,000
Php 3,000
Php 3,000
Php 3,000
Php 3,000
Php 3,000
3 rd Place
Php 2,000
Php 2,000
Php 2,000
Php 2,000
Php 2,000
Php 2,000
b. Employees of Roasters Group Inc., Bates141 Philippines, Zenith Optimedia including their relatives up to the second degree of consanguinity or affinity are disqualified from winning the cash prizes.
3. Event Activities
At the end of the run, participants will be invited to relax to a concert of Tribo Manila and purchase their Urbanite dinners at discount.
4. Security Measures
a. Stationary marshals at different points along the run route, approximately 100-150 meters apart or at strategic areas.
b. Roving marshals in motorcycles to tail and keep runners in line.
c. Police marshals and traffic enforcer group will direct traffic and to ensure runners will not be approached by onlookers.
d. Roving police escorts as added security measure.
e. Perimeter barricading at the start/finish line to keep runners assembled properly.
f. Roving security designated at the parking area.
5. Safety Measures
a. Runners to wear illuminated bib numbers and glow bracelets for easy tracking.
b. The marathon route will also contain “reflectorized” cones and signages to ensure the clarity of the track
c. Perimeter lighting will be placed around the run route every 50 meters or so.
d. In case of emergency, two (2) ambulances will be on standby with a dedicated first aid station at the event grounds.
e. All runners are entitled to insurance coverage worth Php 100,000.00 with Php 10,000.00 medical reimbursement.
Epilogue
The Takbo.ph boys full of ribs and chix So as the presscon drew to a close, new friends were made and old ones were reinforced. Close encounters of the running legend kind never hurt the Gingerbread folk as well. There was an air of great anticipation for this one-of-a-kind event. So as GBM started to head for the exits, he was stopped by a familair foil... .. Rico : Hey Gingerbread creature! GBM : Uh, hi boss. Rico: How are your knees? GBM : I can walk now boss... Rico: Great great. You owe me for that 5k. If not for me you would be frothing in the mouth in that unknown UP place! GBM: Mosr probably boss. No worries, if ever they do a bromance movie on my life, you will be the lead. Rico: How flattering. ANyway, business first. Where's my GC? GBM: What GC? Rico: Duh THE LEVI's GC for your fraudulent "contest" ! GBM: Oh yeah that... . Rico: I should report you to the blogging ADBOARD ! Shameless Blog Promotion! GBM: Uh, boss... Rico: Yes? What? I should... WOAH! YAY! It's True ! It wasn't a sham! My precious GC's! YEBAHHH!
It pays to be a Levi's wenner Wonderful event. Great People. Good food. Come to think of it... It was a good night indeed.
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!
So what's the beef with this VO2Max thingamajigie? You constantly hear or read about it in sporting journals, or mentioned during any endurance sport-related writeup. From a layman's standpoint, whatever it is, if you have high levels of it, you must be good! I first heard of it when reading anything on Lance Armstrong's training regimen. They kept on saying that he had unusually high levels of it. So after several years, that "thing" that sounds like a brand of a PC videocard suddenly took on a greater relevance for me since I have started running. I became curious. What's does it do? What is it exactly? Can I improve on it? I did some research on the subject matter, and this what I learned. It turns out, VO2 max is a measure of the maximum volume of oxygen that an athlete can use, and is measured in mililitres per kilogram of body weight. Quite simply, when you increase your effort when exercising, the amount of oxygen needed to produce energy also increases. Turns out however that there's a maximum level of oxygen consumption, which when breached would no longer lead to increases in oxygen usage. As it is, it's generally considered the best indicator of cardiorespiratory endurance and aerobic fitness. However, as we’ll discuss in a moment, it is more useful as an indicator of a person's aerobic potential or upper limit than as a predictor of success in endurance events. Apparently, there are differing schools of thought on Vo2 max. Some think it is a core element which should be improved upon if you wish to achieve your maximum physical ability. On the flipside, some researchers believe it is merely a measure of of one's oxygen usage at maximum energy output. They hazard that it is not the critical factor which determines performance; but more of a consequence of other limiting factors. Whatever the reasoning may be, at the very least we can be sure that it's a definitive measure of exercise intensity at one's oxygen plateau. Ok, so what more can we get with this Vo2 thing? How can you even know what yours is? There are several methods, one of which is to calculate from your races. A formula was given, but I got super confused - VO2 Max=(-4.60 + 0.182258 * velocity + 0.000104 * velocity^2)/(0.8 + 0.1894393 * e^(-0.012778 * time) + 0.2989558 * e^(-0.1932605 * time)) If you could make something out of that, congratulations! So can we actually improve on our VO2 max? It seems a fair share of it is determined by our genes, but training can improve it by 5-20%.
Here is a sample of measured VO2 max for selected athletes.
AthleteEventVO2 MaxBjorn DaehlieCross country skier90.0Miguel IndurainCyclist (winner of Tour de France)88.0John Ngugi5 times world cross country champ85.0Dave Bedford10km World Record holder85.0Steve Prefontaine1 mile in 3:54.684.4Lance ArmstrongCyclist (winner of Tour de France)84.0Joan BenoitMarathon runner (2:24:52)78.6Bill RodgersMarathon runner (2:09:27)78.5Sebastian CoeMiddle distance (1 mile WR)77.0Grete WaitzMarathon runner (WR 1980)73.0Frank ShorterMarathon runner71.0Derek ClaytonMarathon runner (WR 1969)69.7
So there, after reading all of that, I still am a little iffy on the topic, maybe because I'm not a numbers guy. And I still think that if you have more of it, that's a good thing! :) I hope you guys got something out of it though! Tell me what you think!
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?
Sorry, I couldn't resist. While trolling the morning paper, I ran across Philstar's comprehensive (and commendable) series on all the presidentiables along with their corresponding running mates. With elections being the hot topic nowadays, aside from the typical political posturing the feature actually delved into the otherwise mundane details of their daily lives.
While I'm generally politically neutral, I couldn't resist commenting on Makati mayor Jojo Binay's interview in the aformentioned feature. Part of the line of questioning attempts to ascertain the general fitness level of each candidate, presumably to reassure the general voting public that they wont just die on us in the middle of their term. To cut to the chase, what caused me to nearly spill my morning coffee ( okay maybe I didn't, but I needed some sort of dramatic effect) was this following excerpt of the interview :
At the STAR, Binay ate mixed vegetables (carrots, sayote, and cabbage), pieces of fish fillet, and no rice.
He said he can still run 10 kilometers in 43 minutes. "That is equivalent to 4.8 - 4.4 (minutes) per kilometer. My weight is 145 lbs. from the start of my campaign. I can still run.
Jojobama is faster... .. than pretty much all of us. Sorry Piolow.
OMG. THAT'S... That's... . that's... .. faster than my time. Or Piolow's time. Or in plain and simple terms - practically all of us. Alas, the new barometer is no longer the hallowed Sub-Piolo ; it is now the Sub-Binay. Sob.
Gorilla is an instant fan.
Seriously though. Really? Haven't seen him around the running scene. Is he doing secret training at the University of Makati's swanky new track oval? What's his secret? 12 x Yasso 800's? 8 x 1.6 mile repeats?
It's fun to train when the track has your, er, face on it.
Hmmm. This additional excerpt from the interview may give more insights.
To prove that he is still healthy at 67, Binay joined editors and staff in climbing up to the fourth floor of The Star building where his interview was held. And although his blood pressure was recorded at 160/100 after the climb, he said his regular BP was 120/90.
Fine fine, so what if his BP shot up several degrees from climbing up four flights of stairs? Give the guy a break, he hasn't been able to train lately. Hard to factor in tempo runs amidst round the clock campaigning. To those who use HRM's, feel free to do the math.
He said that a 43 minute 10k is 4.8 - 4.4 minutes per kilometer. Actually, it's closer to the latter. To the uninitiated, you need a blazing 4:18/km pace to hit a 43 minute 10k. With those kind of hops, methinks he could easily dominate any 67- and above age group. Podium? Easy. Paging BR! Your thoughts please :P
So... ... . are we looking at the outspoken Makati mayor being a closet physical specimen? Or are we all merely being enraptured in political hyperbole?
When my body gives out and my head tells me to quit, my heart compels me to struggle on. At some point, however, my head and my heart get in 'cahoots' with each other. They both demand I stop. That is when my spirit soars and their protestations are of no avail. I am propelled by a force unseen, drawn to a potential I have yet to realize. I shake off the burden of the physical and wake up to experience my dream. At last I am free... .
Some have dubbed it the final frontier. Well, for the moment at least. The fact of the matter is, right now there is no longer road race in the country. The Bataan Death March 160k Ultramarathon is in a league of its own, and dwarfs all comers to the table. Nothing even remotely comes close. Participants are either honored in hushed, reverential tones or maligned as foolhardy and ignorant.Maybe even stupid. Save for a trifling number, after KM 102 pretty much everybody would be entering the twilight zone. The first ever 100-mile race in the country sticks out like Everest on steroids to the hungry masses, the novelty of the great unknown drawing these inquisitive endurance athletes like moths to a flame. The appeal to be part of history ups the risk/reward scale on an unprecedented level, and athletes will be tested as they have never been before. How long should one soldier on, and when should one know when to quit? It is the quintessential paradox of a discipline that is fueled by blood, guts, and an indomitable will to make it to that finish line. It is a paradigm that will be revisited in recurring snippets as the tale unravels.
The few and the proud...
Prologue
"May invite ka na ba pre?" That was the prevailing water cooler topic for ultra running denizens a couple months back. As for me, the answer was a resounding NO. I wasn't too surprised though, and already had already somehow come to terms with it. After my maiden stint last year with BDM 102, I never really did anything that could be remotely considered "ultra" anymore. While my contemporaries had joined practically every "mid-distance" (if one could consider 70k as such. Really now.) ultramarathon race that Sir Jovie Narcise (better known in running circles as the irrepressible Bald Runner or just plain BR for short) had put out there, it was no big secret that I have been dabbling into multisport and cycling for the most part and had pretty much been out of the scene. So it was really no shocker. I would be lying if I said it didn't bug me though. Just to be considered for the race is a big honor already, and after all I did apply for it. Thing was,we had absolutely no idea what the criteria was for selection. Rumors abound that supposedly only 15 hour finishers would be considered. But then as the initial wave of invites came out, people who were right around my finish range were getting golden tickets, which pretty much added to my anxiety. Perhaps it was my inactivity with the PAU (Philippine Association of Ultrarunners) that contributed to it. Maybe it's just not in the cards. Sigh. We all move on... ...
Then one day, as me and Abby were walking around BHS , i get a buzz on my Blackberry. Thank God for instant email. When that header said "Jovenal Narcise", my heart skipped a beat. When I saw the subject line " Letter of Invitation to the BDM 160", I let out a yelp of joy in the middle of the walkway. Okay maybe not, but you get the idea. Abby got hers at pretty much the same time.And why shouldn't she? I'm probably the only guy in the country who has a girlfriend who runs 102 kilometers faster than he does. Happy night.This was what I wanted right? Right? But... .. I haven't had any long-distance training. Nada. Zilch. Farthest I've ran in a year was 21k. Oh my. With one fell swoop, suddenly the ball was in my court now.
Decisions, Decisions
When the announcement first came out, the race was actually meant to be BDM 151, 151 kilometers representing the cumulative total distance including the train ride of the Death March prisoners to Camp O' Donnell in Capas, Tarlac. However, there was a clamor to increase the distance to just over 160 kms to make it the official 100-mile race in the country. When BR acceded, the wheels in my head were suddenly turning. I suddenly have a shot to cross one off the old bucket list. After a prolonged period of soul searching (that took roughly about 30 minutes) I had made my decision. Obviously, you know what that decision came out to be. The die had been cast. No turning back now.
Forming the Crew
Perhaps unbeknownst to many, the support crews that you tag along for these races aren't of the prototypical cheerleader rah rah kind, which is a common misconception. It's not fun and games, it's not a street party. If at all, the support crew may even undergo more stress than the runners themselves. They are awake during practically the same time frame, and undergo constant anxiety on their runners well being. The crew has to be part inspirational leader, part drillmaster, part nutritionist, part nurse and part driver. They are perhaps the most integral supplementary element to the success of the race, and their relative efficiency could provide the final difference in toeing the fine line between life and death when push comes to shove (I'm not kidding).
Last year, I got my buddy AJ, my internet legend uncle Tito Caloy and random/seasonal friend RV (by virtue of six degrees of separation he somehow got ensnared into this) whom I met just on the day itself. They were all somehow under the impression that this would be a fun, all-night drinking session with me somehow running in the background. Of course, given the shock and stress that they were suddenly, unwittingly subjected to, they forever hold a "BDM card" on me, that they can pull as they wish. Warning to BDMers - this is prone to general abuse, so choose your crew wisely. Smirk.
This year, Abby agonized over the decision on whether to run or not. She was one of what seemed like only ten women who had qualified for it, and the chance to make history was tantalizing. On the flipside, while she was in phenomenal shape she scarcely had any run training. Crucial year in setting up her business, and I guess at one point we all just have to draw the line with priorities. With much trepidation, she decided to hold it off for next year and I hope to make it up to her then. With her addition though I finally have the benefit of not just a seasoned runner on the crew, but an veteran ultrarunner who knows what it takes to get to that finish line.
I've been bugging AJ, who worked harder than anyone last year in keeping me alive out there, to once again be part of my crew. After incessant faux rejections ( no way in hell he would turn down the possibility of two BDM cards to pull), he finally "caved in" after my assurances that this would be the "last". Which was what we said last year. Hihi.
Internet legend Tito Caloy (old Takbo.ph joke, just google my old material) wasn't supposed to be part of the crew this year and was an 11th hour callup because we needed the extra hand. He had all but retired from the running scene and promptly returned to his competitive drinking roots. His son, my cousin Mel (but we call him Shtuey, go figure) was ostensibly going to crew me, back had to back out at the last moment due to his slated thesis defense. I told him "yung thesis pwede naman ulitin, eto once in a lifetime lang to!" Bad Kuya GBM.
The final piece of the puzzle was Duart, who along with myself and AJ have formed a decade-long triumvirate dating back from our days as gangly freshmen at DLSU. He was crestfallen at missing my maiden campaign last year, and was determined to make it up this year. My energetic buddy not only signed on in a jiffy, he even provided the Innova which would become our support car.
The only crew that matters... .With everything in good stead, now all we could do was wait for our date with destiny.
The Briefing
The race briefing is an annual tradition wherein everyone makes the pilgrimage to Camp Aguinaldo to hear last minute instructions from BR. It is also the last chance for you to take hang and socialize with your "batchmates" in a somewhat lucid manner, you may be even lucky to snag a helping or two of lechon. The whole thing is pretty and cut and dry, but one slide of BR stood out to everybody that night.
Don't blame the RD!
D-Day
The advantage of having the race start in the morning is that your body clock is not out of whack. You can sleep like a normal human being and you don't have to be a zombie the first leg or so. With the rest of the team following after office hours (too bad it wasn't an official holiday pfft), me and Abby hitched with TPB bud and BDM 102 partner Mark Hernandez along with soon-to-be marathoner/TPB wifey Bea. While waiting for them at our pre-arranged BHS meeting spot, we see an Audi TT roadster park just in front of Rox. Oohhh fancy. Oddly enough, the silhouette inside was waving to us. Was someone trying to pick up Abby in broad daylight? Que Horror. Amusingly, it turned out to be none other than our good friend Rio with his new toy. The afro gave him away. Soon after Mark and Bea would arrive, and we were well on our way. Last year, I wasn't too happy with our place. This year, we decided to check-in at the MC Lodge, highly regarded by practically everyone and much nearer to KM 0. Place was cool, rooms were just slightly smaller but much cleaner and with better appointments. Of course, I pretended not to see the "295, Aircon 3 hours special" sign outside. Groovy.
It's the place to be We had time to burn, so we scoped out the place for landmarks for the crew and made sure all the gadgets were charged up. Thing I love about the place was that there were like 7 sockets in such a small room. FTW. To "relax" me we were able to set up a mini-DBD on my laptop and I was able to sneak in an article in there (hapit). Around 6 pm Saturday, we had many different choices from their five-star chef for our last supper of sorts.
Bon Apetit! Finally, some shuteye. The crew (and I expected nothing less) got lost and arrived close to midnight. After what seemed like a couple of hours we all had to get the ball rolling. The pressure was mounting. More pressure came forth (my blood pressure,that is) when my crew told me they had a P600 peso dinner. BDM card, BDM card. After what seemed like an eternity, we left the lodge and went on the starting line.An almost unmistakable cornucopia of anxiety, excitement, and fear was distinctly palpable within the car's constraints. I had worn my exact finish line outfit from last year as some weird pamahiin. Out with the old and in with the new, and in a few moments we would be seeing history unfold before our very eyes. The calm before the storm The pre-race events usually consist of a bunch of souvenir photos,some scattered well-wishes and a lot of prayers. Now, there's also the annual rendition of the US and Philippine anthems. Last year, BR gave a "soulful" rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner, (much to the enjoyment of the crowd and much to his chagrin after all the ribbing he got after lol) and this year it was US Armyman Gilbert Gray's turn. Pretty straight up, stoic but no doubt amiable fellow. Remember when we all saw Robocop without the mask? This guy is a dead ringer both in looks and demeanor. I was hit by a sudden burst of nostalgia. It seemed just yesterday that I was here, a greenhorn to the entire enterprise. Sigh, how time flies. After the requisite "class picture", the 59 brave souls on that fateful Saturday morning were off at right around 6am. Destiny and glory were waiting, now the onus was on us to do our part.
With the crew at KM 0.
I hope to replicate this pose at the finish line
The Endure Multisport Ultramen Let the madness beginThe race with no equal started off without much aplomb, with runners trotting warily in lieu of blasting off on all cylinders. Surely, these veterans knew better. Some were setting a faster pace, and only time could tell if they could hold it. After all, this was the biggest battle of our lives right here. I opened the race with buddies Mark Hernandez and OJ Giron, a couple of familiar faces that I hoped would make the journey a lot more meaningful. And in hindsight, hoping that once we enter our own Battle of the Bulge, our own private Normandy, we would all be there to keep each others sanity in check. They had a fairly ambitious goal though- finish the race in 24 hours or less. While I felt that was purely wishful thinking for me given my fitness level, the plan was to just hang with them as far as it takes me. I mean, these guys were in phenomenal shape. OJ coaches nearly full-time and Mark has been on a tear on the running circuit as of late. I would have my work cut out for me but I couldn't allow myself to be left behind.We start out conservatively, alternating a brisk jog and walking the entire 4k incline. Many are passing us at will while BR passes by in a van and chats us up. Our man is in a good mood this morning, in stark contrast to last year's drillmaster barking on a megaphone. Ordinarily, a competitive junkie like me (and I'm pretty sure these two have that same genome in them) would go nuts at being passed so... . effortlessly. But this wasn't a 10k. The reality was, we had 153 more kilometers to go. Just the thought of it scares the hell out of me. What did I get myself into again?
Just out for a weekend fun run with friends... .The Lolo Diaries
At one point, we run into a group led by the "grand old warrior" himself, the ageless Victor Ting. If you see your old man lounging around in the sala watching TV or discovering this fascinating thing called "internet" while forwarding you funny emails (just as we did in well, 1999), this guy puts them all to shame. Imagine, his apos must have it good. No way they are losing an eh ang lolo ko mas magaling sa lolo mo argument. Like, "eh ang lolo ko tumakbo mula Bataan hanggang Tarlac" End of conversation. The ageless wonder somehow had it in him to drag his 66-year old legs across a hundred miles side-by-side with runners young enough to be his grandchildren. Mark told me he could never catch the old codger during the test runs no matter how hard he tried. Thing was, he was maintaining such a ridiculously efficient, no-stopping strategy that it was practically impossible to keep up with him. Perhaps in utter embarrassment at being shown up, we finally caught up with him eventually. And here are some snippets of what I got from a living legend.
" Dati may 100k na , diyan sa may Burnham sa Baguio. Bata pa si Jovie, alam niya yun. Tumakbo ako dun! Paikot ikot nga lang kami."
"Mabagal lang tayo. Sanay tayo sa mabilis pero dito mabagal lang tayo malayo layo pa to"
"Nung 1981 sa Manila International Marathon sub-3 yung marathon ko"
"Nag two bottles pa kami ng Red Horse kagabi"
Hmm, maybe that's his secret. Damn, you mean our very own "super lolo" was a sub-3 hour dude the year before I was er, born? I suddenly conjured visions of myself running in 2041, with a young buck chatting me up at the 31st Runrio Trilogy Anniversary Run
Kid : Lolo, sigurado po ba kayo na kaya nyo pa? Tubig po? Malapit na lang, wag po pilitin. Lolo GBM : Bah. Alam mo ba noong araw eh natakbo ako mula Bataan hanggang Tarlac?Patakbo yun ni Presidente Narcise dati kada taon Kid : Um, er, ah ganun po ba? Waw. Talaga lang ha. Sige lo, init lang yan. Inom ka na lang ng tubig nagdidiliryo na po kayo. Lolo GBM : Totoo! Anong akala mo nagbibiro ako? Eto ipapakita ko pa ang silver buckle ko bilang katibayan (lifts up singlet to show buckle) Kid : Yuck indecent exposure! DOM! PEdo! Security!!!!!!
Talo Lolo mo sa Lolo ko. Kids. Pffft. As I was snapping out of my misguided daydream, I realized that the urge to do the number two was somewhat compelling enough to tell the crew about it. Abby texts back, we found one in 1.5k, that ok? Of course that was okay. I was thinking, the earlier I get this out of the way the better. Last year was an utter nightmare, first try I was shown a hole on the ground, second try I had to run nearly 1k inside a subdivision just to make it to their clubhouse and I nearly fell asleep inside. They even thought I passed out. This year there was no such problem as the crew found a very nice spot right around the 20k mark ... .. inside an Iglesia ni Cristo church. As Abby assured me that my presence there wasn't bordering on anything sacrilegious, I was successfully able to execute probably the fastest and most efficient pit stop ever. Thank you INC, I owe you guys one.
Isolation Therapy
During that break, I had lost Mark and OJ. I kept on looking back, and I asked a Team Ungas van where they were and I was given the impression they were far back. So I was all alone. Felt like I was making good time though, pace at a rock solid 7:30. Much to my consternation, it turns out that they were actually ahead of me. Finally back with my buds, it was supposed to be all smooth sailing from here. It didn't last long though. One pit stop later and the group was once again splintered. What I couldn't understand was why was it that I was the one getting ahead when I'm the weakest runner in our group by a mile. Perhaps, was I doing something wrong? Going too fast? Not even. With no sight of my, I just had to trudge on.
Me, Myself, and the Long Winding Road.
All by myself... . don't wanna be. All by myself... .. anymore.
As the bars of the seminal Celine Dion classic rang through my head, I was thinking, this wasn't how I wanted my story to unfold. It was supposed to be packed with stories of guts, glory, and the will to continue. Of camaraderie and an unspeakable bond with brothers who share the same iron-clad mindset in helping each other succeed through seemingly insurmountable odds. It would have made for great drama, the piece that would finally nail me my first Philippine Blog Award win... .. a tale of hardship, friendship, and sacrifice through... .
Wait, who am I kidding? It's just me, myself, and the road. The sheer drudgery is getting to me. It's pretty much... . mundane and er, unexciting. It's a microcosm of your typical countryside life, and it's a change passing by here during the daytime. Aside from regular contact with my crew and the occasional chit chat with other teams, it's pretty much me and a bunch of nameless faces along the road who keep getting me engaged in this incessant cycle that never gets old :
Bystander : Koya, san kayo galing? GBM : Mariveles Bystander : San paponta koya? GBM : Tarlac Bystander : !!!!!
Enter Celine Dion chorus here I think in my frustration, I was speeding along faster than I had intended to. As I was approaching the 32k mark I had already passed Frontrunner EIC/Ultra strongman Jonel and the super lolo Vic Ting group. I also saw a focused Pat Alcomendas seemingly struggling, the mere fact of which seemed to blow my mind. He prodded me to go on, was worried if any nagging injuries were manifesting. A quick check on the 310xt, 7:04 pace. Eek. Much faster than what I had intended to hold, and fearful I might gas out later. Relax. Breathe. Malayo pa to.
Manong pacing me to Tarlac. He lasted 30 seconds.Crew check The gang was pretty impeccable at this point. Abby would send me inspirational messages from time to time (hihi) and that never failed to give me a boost. AJ and Duart were on point, although Duart was like a man possessed perhaps in his haste to make up for lost time last year. AJ was mostly chilling. Tito Caloy, was , well, being Tito Caloy. His moral support is invaluable to the endeavor, let's just keep it at that. As I would learn later, Abby was garnering a certain following amongst our provincial folk with her "eye- popping" running outfit which would seem more at home within the comfy asphalt of BHS rather than the concrete jungle of the Bataan countryside. Hey, it's comfy!(rejoinder for fear of future retribution) Warning Signs As I was nearing the marathon mark I was beginning to slow down a little. Ill effects from a fast start? Five hours and a half into the whole thing, my left foot was beginning to feel sore. Also noticeable was that I kept on doing a really weird overpronation move with my left foot, for some reason it would pronate inward and the sole of the shoe would keep on hitting my right ankle. I noticed this mechanical flaw would only come out towards the latter part of anything north of a marathon. And now I'm slowly flagellating my right ankle. Fun.Rule of Thirds Amidst the madness, I decided to divide the race into three parts to keep my head in there - 0 -50, 50 - 102, 102- 160. Within each division I would chomp them up into bite-size and easily digestible 10k portions. That way you don't lose yourself mentally, it's easy to get overwhelmed and deflated when there is too much emphasis on the big picture. I have seen many of my comrades fall by the wayside when this kicks in, and all of us are susceptible at any given moment. As I was doing my mental calculations, the man who had taught me these valuable lessons just caught up with me. It was Jonel! Finally, company! Part-mentor/Frontrunner slave driver, he was coming on strong and as we approached the 50k stretch in Abucay the conversations we had invigorated me. I reminded him that I still owed him breakfast for losing a bet with him on Condura ( I had a lame 4:14, he dropped a 3:47... . after doing a test run. Incredible.) We run into Robocop Gilbert Gray, who must have been bored with our pace and left us soon after. He would eventually finish 10th in a steady, methodical, um, serious performance. We reach the 50k mark around six and a half hours in, BR and Mrs. BR were there to greet us. As we would later on discover, we were both in the top 20 at this point. So far so good. I take the opportunity to stretch out and sit down a little, I actually arrived ahead of my crew. Learning from last year's lessons, I didn't spend too much time here, heck didn't even wait for a costume change. Jonel had an even faster T1 (if you would consider it as such tri-geeks) and was already ahead of me by several minutes. "Just" 110k to go, it should get interesting from here. An Accidental Bromance Back to my lonesome. I don't if growing up alone is a key factor to some deep psychological crap inside of me, but I hate being alone. I hate eating alone, I hate going to the mall alone. Ironically, although I usually train alone I'm not exactly thrilled about it. So sue me, social being here. So once again, it's driving me nuts that I'm by my lonesome. At this point, Jonel was long gone already and was too strong to chase down given I'm going through the motions of a swoon already. So back to the drudgery. My left foot is starting to bother me already and it's starting to get hot already. Many have lost their way on this national highway, and I had no intention of succumbing in my solitude. That's until I notice a semi-familiar face going back and forth with me. Semi-familiar because I knew that dude was Paolo Osmena, a veteran who is no doubt exponentially stronger than me. Someone also said he had the legs of a female supermodel. Of course, I deny all allegations that this came from me. Anyway, for what seemed like a 15k stretch we would settle into this bizarre pattern where I would surge ahead of him after running 1.5k straight, then once I rest with the crew he would come surging back and establish a big lead then the cycle replicates itself. While I felt I was pacing better than him as it seemed he was in some sort of pain, his advantage was he would only stop every 5k. Does that mean I'm a Gingerbread sissy for stopping as often as I did? Probably. Soft-baked mush. But at this point, at the back of my head I was trying to conserve as much as I could, long ways to go. Eventually, this seemingly "cold war" was driving me crazy. I ran up to him ( he was favoring the opposite side of the road) and struck up a conversation. And he turned out to be a very affable albeit tired fellow. His plantar was killing him, but more than anything he was questioning why was he feeling a notch short on probably his most important racing day of the year. He felt he had more than trained for this, so many long runs and hours put in, and yet here he was feeling exhausted less than halfway through. In retrospect, this same malaise may have struck a lot of my fallen comrades. But then again, we'll never really know. Every runner out there has their own unique story, and the entire gamut of emotions that are transmuted into one ethereal body of work make this journey unlike any other.I tried to boost my newfound friend's flagging spirits by telling him that even if we were feeling horrible now, we were still well-entrenched in the top half of the draw. And as much as we felt that we were sucking, those who are still behind us must be sucking too. Of course, that wasn't necessarily true, but I had to say something. He was asking if we walked from that point to the 160 line, would we make it? Perhaps, maybe. But we have to make it to 102 first. Obviously, we wouldn't if we did. But it takes an ultrarunner to know anothers suffering, and at that point you do what you could to help them go forward. On a downward spiral Somewhere nearing KM 70, I was really beginning to feel exhausted. Nearly nine hours in, I was slowly tapering off. Either I left my newfound buddy somewhere or he left me, but I just lost him at a certain point. I was really slowing down and my pace had plummeted to 8:30 cumulative. After what seemed like ages, finally I saw glimpses of different souls. Which was great. And they were passing me left and right. Which wasn't. OJ came out of the woodwork after what seemed like an eternity and was still dropping 7:30 pace effortlessly. I tried latching on but I was already slowly fizzling out. Don Ubaldo was making a rally from behind, he soon passed me as well. And buddy Mark passed me as well, looking fresh as ever. So this is all it would come down to. Just as with all my races, just as with my marathons. A very promising start only to choke at the end. It's a recurring theme, a recurring problem. Maybe ... maybe there's something wrong with what I'm doing. Maybe the problem is... . me. There is no greater dagger to one self-confidence than when one is getting passed left and right by your fresh-looking colleagues. It exacerbates a malignant notion slinking in the shadows. While racing the biggest race of one's career, the last thing you would want to happen is for self-doubt to creep in. Extraordinary circumstances call for an extraordinary effort, and no way are you going to pull that off without a certain modicum of self-belief. But isn't that what ultra running is all about? When both the will and the body have been broken, do you have enough to bring you home to that line?I want to puke. I'm dizzy. Maybe I was just being too brash. Who was I anyway, thinking I could just step in here and do a 100 miler without any serious long run training?These guys have been training for a year now. I didn't belong here. I knew I was in decent shape but I guess that just wasn't enough. I'm in pain, everything is painful. Maybe I should quit now and just suck it up later. Oh great Argow just passed me again. He does that every year around these parts. He's very strong. I wanna puke again. This was a big mistake. Where's Tito Lito Lapid? Maybe I could start to rally here just as I did last year. Finally, the crew is here. Maybe I can show them that I am still strong, get something good energy going. Good thing I have shades on. They can't see a defeated man's eyes.
Put up or Shut up From KM 70 onwards I was a dead man walking already. Abby was getting increasingly agitated and worried. My left foot was bothering me severely and I could barely move without significant pain. The crew was taking turns massaging and spraying, and ice cubes on my face seemed to help. I had to stop every kilometer, and finally we just changed my fancy Adidas socks into less fancy Adidas socks which were much more laspag and looser.
Which at that point I felt was what I needed. I had lost a lot of ground and this was all really getting to me. The competitive nut in me had wanted to do well in this race, showing everybody "it could be done" on a cross-train base. I had a chip on my shoulder if you would call it that. However, at this point that chip could have been easily mistaken for a heavy cross, as I was in heavy suffering.More stops. More pain.
Tirik mode. At that monent, I could never put a premium on the value of having an experienced ultrarunner like Abby on my crew. Her relentless approach last year worked wonders, and left my whiny self eating her dust. While everyone was sort of freaking out at my disheveled state, she was resolute in whispering to me "Tiis lang babe. Not too many breaks. You can do this. Just keep on moving forward, sayang time. I took solace in that and soldiered on. If I couldn't be strong, at least someone was being strong for me. And I could feed off that. And the journey continues... . Of Pain and Detours As my slowly deteriorating carcass was slowly marching through the dusty Pampanga highway, without a doubt I was a broken man both mentally and physically. I had a losers mentality and was already looking for reasons to quit. Km 80 could have been a world away and i wouldn't have known the difference. My pace had plummeted, my strategy out of sorts. What had started out as a promising race was going down the drain on account of a left foot that was swelling ridiculously. Each attempt at running was rewarded with pain, pain, and more pain. Masakit na. Ayaw na. What exacerbated things was that the crew took a left somewhere, ostensibly for a 1k detour. That 1k detour turned out to be 3.5k of hell without a support crew. No drinks,no nothing. Much to my consternation, turns out they could have just gone straight and ignored it, all the rest of the support cars were there. I was down and out. Suddenly, nightfall was approaching. How could I even dream of hitting 160k when I'm running on nonexistent fumes here? As I finally catch the crew after nearly four kilometers of non-existent support, it seemed like the end of the line for me. Battered, exhausted, I sat down somewhere near KM 80 and nearly collapsed while sitting down. Abby was very concerned already. She kept on muttering Just keep moving forward babe, you can do this. I believe in you. AJ and Duart were searching for inspirational quotes from their bag of tricks as well.Somewhere, seeing such a concerted effort from my team ignited a long recessive notion from within. In my frustration, I suddenly came to the realization - why the heck am I acting like such a sissy? I had already done this before! I'm a vet for crying out loud. Let's get this done! My swagger, which had somehow taken an inopportune time to take a VL, came back just in the nick of time. With renewed vigor, my head back on the right frequency, I went back out there with that predator's mindset that had been sorely missing for several hours now. Pain is just a word One slight problem. Energized as I was, the pain was slowly bordering on "enough to make me yelp" proportions. My form must have been god-awful. Anyway, I kept on whining like some lame greenhorn until I sort of just got fed up with myself. This was a war, and if I was going down I'd do so on my shield. In a journey not wanting of inspiration, there are some times that you just had to get the job done yourself. If some other people along the way saw me angrily muttering to myself, here's the inside scoop on what that was going on. Wimpy GBM : Ouch. Aray. Ang sakit na talaga. DNF na tayo koya, uwi na tayo please? BDM Vet Hard Core GBM : Ano ka ba?! Sali sali ka dito tapos aangal angal ka jan? Bwiset! Wimpy : Waaaah but it hurts so baaaad and I'm soooooo tired =,( Hard Core : You joined this stupid, the pain is to be expected. Duh! Do you seriously expect to run this long with no pain? You have got to be kidding me! Suck it up chump! You a tough guy or a wimp? Wimpy : Sungit mo naman... .. Not that I've degenerated into schizoprenia, but I needed to kick it up a notch if I had any intention of getting through this. I entered Km 80 a man possessed, suddenly I was hitting 8:00 pace with ease. The foot was extremely bothersome, but my mind and psyche were clear. Just keep moving forward. Dammit man. Get it together. Fighting for the fallen I had hit upon a fantastic formula that worked wonders for me and allowed both for enough rest and enough traction towards the goal. The support car would be there every 1k, so what I would do was that I would run for 1k, rest or sit down for a bit once I reached the car , walk 300 meters then run the next 700. It worked so well that it seemed that I could sustain for extended periods. Somewhere around the mid-80's I was shocked to see Bea and Dan around the route. But... . Mark was so far ahead of me right? She told me he had fallen behind a little to rest. As I probed what happened, I was told he was just tired, that's all. Ah, the typical swoon. But we all go through it and he would no doubt bounce back from it. I told Bea that I would be waiting up for him, a reprise of last year's end-game partnership seemingly forthcoming. My sudden resurgence suddenly catapulted me back into the thick of things. I ran into Singaporean ultra runner Kelly Lim, who told me she didn't know the way and was lacking in supplies, apparently her support crew was way behind. I instructed the gang to give her whatever she needed. I told her she could hang with me if she wanted, but her pace seemed way too strong for my injured left foot and methodical strategy.She thanked me and went on her way. The curious thing about the entire exchange was when she told me she was measuring her pace in steps. Not sure if that's a culture-specific thing, but I found it to be quite the novel approach. In the dark recesses of the land where tocino and sisig are king, the pain was considerable but I was sticking to my 700-300 run walk strat. Eerie headlamps defined shadowy figures identifiable only by their reflectorized vests, as we traversed a Kapampangan neighborhood that seemed to be comfortable in blithely ignoring us.Still, every time I would see a runner closing in I would ease up and check if it was Mark doing one of his trademark comebacks. Alas, it was another unfamiliar face marauding in the darkness. Where the heck was he? The crew was surprised at what seemed like a strong second wind from me, as I was arriving faster at our stops than what was previously trending. As I approached KM 90 in that tricky poblacion area that drove us nuts last year, turns out they were buying dinner at Jollibee and only AJ was left in the van. Before I could even ask him what our foodies were, he let go of a grim, tersely worded statement that rocked me to the core. Nag DNF na daw si Mark ... .. I couldn't believe it. Nearly 14 hours in, emotions were running high already. I was crestfallen, heartbroken. Like I could feel his pain myself. It was as if the enemy had successfully shot down one of my own. My lips quivered. This was my buddy, we had willed each other to the line last year. AJ even massaged him towards the end (he never let me forget). We were supposed to replicate that success this year. We've been in many wars together carrying the TPB bannerall season long and he was in phenomenal shape. He had trained so hard for this, as well as anyone I knew. I was at a loss for words at how that could have happened, more so that I knew how much he would fight to keep a DNF off his record. I was beside myself, I felt I let a friend down. Maybe if I were there I could have implored him to go on, helped him out bit by bit till he regained his senses and strength. Suddenly, sadness turned to worry. It had to be really serious for him to stop at that point. I implored AJ to give me more details, he didn't know either. Mark dropping out put a quick check on my own mortality. Reports would later come in that more and more friends were falling by the wayside. In my exhausted, sleep-deprived state, the pull of our close-knit fraternity dropping like flies emboldened me to push on. If there were an ultrarunning version of that scene in 300 where the captain goes berserk after his son gets decapitated, this was probably it. I hit 7:30 on my 310xt for a kilometer split at a time when the cumulative average was already around 8:40.
NoooooooooooooooI had to go on. For Mark, for everyone who had their dreams dashed by fate's cruel, unfeeling turn. It could have been me, could have been anyone. But I'm still around for a reason. This is for them. I have to take it home for them. Now let's get it done.
Let's do it for them. Just Get It To 102 At this point last year, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Just a wee bit more. I wrote : The pain in my left knee grew in intensity with each pause. My crew was pulling out all the stops to ensure that I made it. The pain was incredible. But to quit this near, after all that you've been through? No way in hell. If you told me that I had to roll down the road just to finish, I would have. This year, while I was presumably in better shape I was already slowing down significantly as I went past KM90. The adrenalin from my rallying cry around the plethora of DNF's had faded and the exhaustion was creeping in. As I marched on into the night, I was reminded on just how ludicrous the entire enterprise was in running the equivalent of nearly four marathons in 30 straight hours. Last year I barely made it in one piece to the line. This time around not only do I have to clear 102 kilometers, I have to run all the way to another province just to finish, 58 long kilometers away. Seriously. Who in the right mind would do this? I was dwarfed by the magnitude of the task at hand. As I was going through another late swoon, Wency, Chito and a couple of other warriors caught up with me. With differing run/walk patterns, we would alternate bursts of small talk along with taking the lead. I was weakening at this point, and I felt all alone . Mentally, making it to 102 meant the safe haven of a warm meal and the prospect of resting for more than the couple of seconds I had been giving myself for practically the entire journey.I kept on muttering just get it to 102, all will be well after. With pacers allowed 102 onwards, I was counting heavily on Abby, AJ and Duart to get me through in one piece. Before I could get there though, two pairs of shiny eyes suddenly hit my lamp. Dogs. Wild Dogs. Before I could even react, these uncuddly canines were chasing after me like I was a steak on two legs. At this point, this is truly the last thing you need. I just froze and walked calmly as their agitated, bloodthirsty growls resonated along the grim highway.Lucky.
Bad Doggie.As I allowed my blood pressure to settle down a few notches, I just realized that I still remembered quite distinctly each nuance this final stretch had to offer..I remember everything - my shuffling gait, the left to the eskinita, the cheers, the hug from BR. Everything is all still so vivid. Even amidst being embroiled in all this physical suffering, the reassurance of being in somewhat familiar conditions was invaluable. Soon, we would be leaving the comfort of these toiling grounds for a stab at the twilight zone. I check my watch. I actually have a shot at a 102 PR. In what was probably not the smartest move to do at that point , I yearned for a strong entry into KM102 so I "tempo ran" that final kilometer going as low as 7:00. At I approached the famous eskinita Abby, AJ and Duart were there to ensure I didn't get lost. I ran strong into the train station sixteen hours and 30 minutes after I had began to a cacophony of cheers from the remaining crowd, an hour erased from last year's finish. 102 kms done. 58 to go. Last year, this was the scene of our greatest triumph. Now, it is where we begin our greatest battle... .
A sight for sore eyes at KM102
Just like the good ol' daysPrelude To The Pain Finally, some semblance of "real" rest! I had worked long and hard for this so I would savor each second of it.I took off my shoes, got to stretch amd lie down for a bit, wolfed down a Burger Machine "double longga burger" for good measure. I heard some of the other warriors took a quick snooze as well. The 310xt got a fresh charge on Endure Multisport buddy/creative whiz Gerard Cinco's (of dimsumandsiomai fame) car charger. He was also kind enough to lend me his Garmin 405 to bridge the gap. Eternal thanks bro!
We put Salonpas on the throbbing upper arch of my bothersome left foot, some on the calves. Otherwise, I was okay. Or so I thought. Coming in at around 16:30ish, I decided to burn 30 minutes to simulate a 17 hour split , which more or less gives me 13 hours to complete that final 58k. I had fulfilled my short-term goal to bridge it to my pacers while keeping my sanity. Now the real challenge begins.
First up was AJ, my de facto crew chief from my BDM 102 campaign and eternal buddy. The plan was for him to cover anywhere from 5-10 kilometers while buying Abby some valuable shut-eye before she came on.. While not exactly a regular running denizen, AJ was a former UAAP Volleyball MVP and could count on his natural athleticism to take over should push come to shove. He was hyped up and raring to go as a strange new world awaited us out there.
BDM Card #2 right here.But before anything else, a couple of hiccups. First, for some incomprehensible reason I couldn't get my laces to stick.Perhaps the tender left foot had something to do with it as I was being OC with the tightness , but it took us at least five minutes to get the whole thing right. Talk about a momentum killer. Second - just get the heck out of the train station. Fast. We had traversed all around it, amidst what seemed like an abandoned rice paddy. A dog came right out and threatened to attack us. We were warned about the dogs, but seriously this was ridiculously way too early in the ball game. Much like the guardian pacer he was, Hasa bravely shooed the rabid dog away with his "shout and make gulat the doggie move". He would later confess that his cajones were being seriously compromised already, but he had to at least "pretend" to be strong in my severely weakened state. Thank God it worked. We finally were able to navigate our way around the labyrinthine area... only to wind up about 100 meters from where we had started. We could even see Sir Rene and Camilla Brooks from where we were. They probably thought we were messing around. Sheesh.
Apparently, it wasn't as simple as we thought.Crash Into Me We had wasted an inordinate amount of time just getting out into the main road, and I was deathly paranoid of getting lost at such a crucial juncture. My absence at that crucial, final test run was now coming back to haunt me. On the way to Macarthur Highway, I had AJ ask practically every manong if they saw runners along the route. Even if the answer was always in the affirmative, the eerie absence of support cars was agitating me. After asking like thrice, Hasa was like Ano, satisfied na? I probably muttered something unintelligible as a reply.
I tried to get on with the 700-300 formula that had worked so well for me, but after a solitary kilometer I felt sick. I was crashing. Hard. Again. Could the strong push leading to 102 drained my last reserves? I was hitting more than 17 hours of the road already. I guess the relative unfamiliarity of the terrain all added to this notion brewing in my head . Once I hit 103k , I was in no man's land. Pessimistic realities were beginning to form in my head. Damn, ang layo pa. Wala na akong ibibigay pa. I implored AJ that all I could do was walk first. All of a sudden, it seemed like I was in a daze. Parang high. To make matters worse, our support van was nowhere in sight. Apparently, Tito Caloy went freestyling on the route and insisted on the "Macarthur Highway" route that he knew... . which was going to Bulacan. Apparently, I wasn't the only one bonking. Try as I could, the legs were not responding. I was doing the tukod move at a higher ratio than at any point in the race. I almost even fell into AJ at one point. We were barely moving. Once again, fears of a late game choke were getting to me.Good thing that this was an all-too-familiar sight for my friend, having seen me buck injury and dehydration during the previous campaign. He still had his mental notebook full of pre-memorized inspirational quotes, but he didn't pull a single one. The one he did drop though, was probably the one that mattered the most. Kung sa akin nga lang pap, kung kaya lang kitang samahan ng 50k gagawin ko. A poignant moment in a journey made possible not by one man's singular effort, but by the collective sacrifices of those who share a single-minded determination to tow him to that finish line. Infused by a sudden stream of positive energy, it was just the thing I needed. Habol ng Habol Big steps lang. I tried running but gave up seeing that my "run" and AJ's walk were roughly around the same pace. So what's the point. Our progress was miserably slow. After close to an hour, me and AJ had only covered four ridiculous kilometers using this tactic and time was slowly ticking away. I was trying to get myself together by convincing myself that this hour long walk would serve as the much needed "rest" to help me once Abby came on. In pretty bad shape though. Ironically, AJ was somehow relieved when Duart offered to take over pacer duties. Apparently his surgically repaired knee was acting up, a heroic effort for a friend in need. Too bad I was too preoccupied battling my inner demons to fully appreciate it at the time
Hasa gutting it out after 5k
Duart raring to step up to the plate Once Duart had donned the official pacer's bib, we were off. He was jacked and amped up, perhaps a little too much for me in my rapidly diminished state. Given the horrid start to this final leg of our journey, we somehow had to make up for lost time. Around 19 hours in, I was fading badly and I sore in too many places than I could describe. My buddy, who was always the smartest guy in our class a decade ago, was hellbent on helping in any way he could. Some useless trivia : He once missed AJ's UAAP championship game, and was so disconsolate about it that he attended every single game the following season. Now that's what you call friendship! I am lucky to have him on my team.
He was listening to my instructions as much as he could while dropping the occasional motivational line, and we were making some semblance of progress. Pap, mental lang yan. Bumibigay na ang katawan pero it's all mental. Not sure if I got it verbatim but that's pretty much what I could remember.We had another mad dog episode, and he was brutally honest in telling me he wasn't exactly too thrilled with them wild doggies. A noble effort from my bud to keep me in there, but it was clearly bothering him. In short, at this point where my brain had pretty much short-circuited, I scarcely had any energy to to help him out against any anxiety as much as I wanted to. I needed to be carried, not the other way around. Another point of concern was when he told me he suddenly became dizzy, no doubt a byproduct of the sudden stress put upon his sleep-starved system. As much as Duart was shrugging it off, a glance on my watch was telling me we weren't trending well.
If only them Tarlac doggies were this cute At this rate, once Abby came on we might be too far behind already. But Duart still had 5k to go, and he seemed quite enthused with it. As much as I wanted to have my bud finish his full leg, the reality was that I needed Abby in there both for the physical and emotional boost, and I didn't think I could hang on for 5k more.As rhythmically disjointed as our current little sortie was, I was hanging on to the hope that once she came on, everything would fall back into place. I labored heavily with each run, my pain-wracked body slowly being battered into submission. At only 115k in, we were nearly 20 hours out there. 10 hours for 45k? In this state? I pushed the panic button and told good buddy Duart we had to cut short his stint. Always the proud warrior (he's already planning his own BDM 102 stint for next year. AJ is his support crew chief which rocks, problem is AJ doesn't know yet.), he seemed visibly bothered that I had cut his stint short. I scarcely had the energy to explain things, just muttered that it was all about "strategy"whatever that meant amidst his half-serious protestations. Once Abby saw her number called, she shifted to work mode instantaneously and snapped on the bib and my hydrobelt with baon gels. With one of the best ultrarunning pedigrees amongst all the pacers, she's a tremendous boon to my campaign. In the middle of the night, in some unknown highway, we had some serious catching up to do. Both literally and figuratively.
Super Abby to save the day Longest. Date. Ever. As we ventured into the great unknown, the "reserves" that I was storing during AJ and Duart's combined 10k stint somehow helped. The more I realized that we were running into Angeles City (yes, Angeles City. And yes, I started in Bataan, 20 hours ago.), all the more that the enormity of the entire experience was getting to my head. Each step was heavier, every breath more labored than ever. We started out strong thanks to Abby pushing the pace, but alas I couldn't ride out the heavy fade. My mind was starting to play tricks with me already. If there was such a thing as a "running pseudo lucid dream", I was probably doing it already. It felt like my brain was kicking into " dream mode" - while I was still running. Seemed like a bizarro mix of both a dream and a hallucination at the same time, and the line between fantasy and reality was severely blurred at this point. No idea if I was dreaming or not anymore.
Sabaw I regain a semblance of reality to the faint sobs of my worried girlfriend, who had been rock steady and strong the entire time. Apparently, I was already lying down the concrete pavement at some Angeles City bridge, my submission to mortality compounded by a suddenly biting wind. She was at a loss for words, the complexity of being a pacer tasked to bring you to the line intersecting with that of a petrified loved one. Diliryo. Yes, that's what they call it. I want to quit already. So many people have fought the good fight and called it a day already. Maybe I should do the same. ...
An emotional turning point... .A Walk On The Dark Side Somehow, Abby's resolute pleadings got me back on my feet again. However, as we plodded our way to Tarlac it was becoming harder and harder with no relief in site. The thermostat suddenly dropped out of nowhere and I started to shiver uncontrollably, to the point that my chest began to hurt already. I was forced to wear the only warm thing available - Tito Caloy' frumpy windbreaker. As much as this was the last place where you could be judged for a fashion faux pas, I took it off the moment I got warmer. Smirk. At this point I could only run for about 200 or so meters before stumbling around the dark, dusty abyss en route to Tarlac. It was a painful, arduous process. I would beg for a chance to sit down. Abby was adamant. Sayang time. Kaya pa yan. What a whiner. So many of our fellow warriors had passed us already, some I haven't seen since the start of the race. Gosh, I must have lost so much time already. Two enigmatic, shadowy figures emerge from the woodwork, plodding ninjas who had seemingly lost their way. Turns out it was the veteran ultra duo of George Dolores and Ralph Salvador, battle tested warriors who were likewise succumbing to their demons within. Aabot pa ba tayo?Di na namin gagawin to uli, kalokohan to! Seeing two proud veterans fighting their demons to the very end seemed to embolden me. If they are still in this... . no reason I shouldn't be. You know how they say that in a marathon your second wind kicks in just when you need it the most? I had used mine hours ago. That third and fourth? A distant memory. I'm running on empty here as we were approaching the 130k mark. A quick glance at the trusty 310xt. Not good. Not good at all. At this rate, there would be no way would be finishing within cutoff. I felt my dreams slowly fading, dissipating before my tired, weary eyes. The body had given up, the pain too immense. My spirit a meek spectator to the entire spectacle. Abby was slowly getting exhausted trying to coax something out of me, to no avail. But inside of me, a different storm was brewing. So that's it?This is how it's all going to end Luis? You just plain gave up? You bothered so many people, spent so much money, put yourself through this much pain, only to fail at the end? Think of how the Facebook statuses would come out tomorrow, how people would be sympathetic to your stupid excuses. Keep this crap up, and you will fail. Are you content with the whole "just making it to the start line is a victory" crap? You came here with a specific goal in mind. You want that buckle right? You want the cynics to shut the hell up right?? Are you going to quit on Abby? On Hasa and Duart after everything that they have done for you? On the five people who will read your story on your crappy blog? What a damn lousy story that would be. More than anything, do it for yourself. Do you want to be remembered as a quitter forever?
On life support and needing a miracle Desperate times call for desperate measures. When all else was failing, I swung for the fences with nothing left to lose. How? Simple, really. I pissed myself off. Yes, you read that right. I was trying my darn best to piss myself off. Before my brain decided to shut itself down completely, I had this bright idea that the only way to save my race was for my adrenalin to go into overdrive. It's the fight or flight paradigm at play, and I gave it one final heave. If this failed, there was nothing more I could do but accept that maybe this wasn't really meant for me. It's a sober reality that I would probably deal with for the rest of my life. Everything was hinging on this. I couldn't fail. I REFUSE to fail. Luis : NO!!! I CAN'T LOSE! I PUT TOO FREAKING MUCH INTO THIS!! QUIT?? NOW?? YOU GOT TO BE !@#$ KIDDING ME!! LET'S GO!! Abby : ???!!!! The result was nothing short of spectacular, For one completely inspired, ethereal stretch, everything just clicked. The adrenalin was overflowing. All the pain disappeared., not a trace. I was running like I just started on one of them BHS races. Abby was shocked out of her wits, but kept pace as much as she could. We were passing the others at will, and it was just an incredible turn of events. At a time when we were covering about 4 kilometers an hour tops at around 15:00 min/km pace, we zoomed to an unfathomable (given the circumstances) 5:50 min/km pace. Even I myself was shocked. In plain and simple terms, we had earned back that extra hour that we had lost earlier with the effort.
And in one fell swoop, we were back in the game.
Cruise Control
We had to slow down eventually and fall back into a run/walk pattern as it was Abby's turn to bonk. The sudden speedwork zapped her, and our support car was nowhere to be found. AJ and Duart were plotting our trends in between naps, and they had missed out on the sudden surge. They were at least 5 kilometers away and couldn't seem to find us in their best Keystone Cops routine. Abby was running out of water and Gato as the sudden anaerobic spurt was getting the best of her. With the national engineering boundary for Tarlac in sight, it was somewhat my turn to keep her in there. Eventually the groggy gang caught up, likewise shocked at the little stunt we pulled off.
The adrenalin had worn off and everything was starting to hurt again, but at least Abby was better. As we soldiered on into the wee hours of the new day, we were comfortably settling into a pattern that we had first used when I paced her for the original Rizal Day 32k. It entailed choosing targets from within the prevailing landscape and run to that with no excuses. Let's run to the green house. Waiting shed. 2nd big telephone pole. From this point forth every second counted, each second running providing us a bigger buffer for what promises to be an explosive endgame.
Twenty Four Oras
Set a target. Run.Walk. Rest. As we were nearing the 24 hour mark entering the Tarlac capitol, I was fighting with everything I had. I could scarcely believe that I was still here - alive, standing, running and with a real shot at taking this home. Good vibes. Even the boys were egging me on. Let's do this pap. Let's take this home.
Hitting the 24 hour mark was a poignant, goosebump inducing- milestone. But it wasn't over. Not just yet.
Daytime Shocker
Shocking, because I was still here. Because Abby was approaching 30k pacing me with nary a sign of fatigue. But the single most shocking, absolutely mind-blowing thing that jolted our senses was seeing a crumpled, hobbling figure on the other side of the road. It was Tatay Jonel. I last saw him just after the 50k mark and had figured he had finished hours before.. He looked deathly pale, and our attempts to ask what was wrong were met with some semi-lucid hand gestures, presumably gesturing us to go ahead. Another dagger straight into our hearts. .If I were Daniel- san, he was Master Miyagi. If this were a war, that was our general right there. And right now our general was telling me to leave him and let him be. Reluctantly, we had to pass him, taking painful solace in the thought that this was his battle to face, his mountain to conquer. Just a bit more, and glory would be his.
Hopefully, it would all be ours.
100% Pure Guts
Digging Deep
The sun was starting to beat down and the pain on my left foot was off the charts. Any form of movement would generate a certain level of pain that seemingly only a shot of morphine could negate. Nevertheless, the excitement was building, and we were trending well as we were entering the 140k mark. I could sense it in Abby's voice. We got this babe!! Just a bit more!
Meanwhile, the crew was on chillax mode. A supremely confident AJ was already looking at breakfast plans while Duart was doing a little premature celebrating
Breakfast, anyone? Wrong Mistake
I was trying to amp up every step as we were hitting the right turn that was supposed to lead us to the Capas National Shrine. Pain was mortifyingly bad, I've run out of adjectives to describe it. If my Garmin was correct, we just had 13 more kilometers to go to glory. You know how towards the latter part of a marathon, say around 40-41k, you just attempt to block out everything in an attempt at a strong finish? I was trying to pull off the same thing here. In my head, we got this, let's get it over with. As we reached the crossroad, me and Abby ran into Coach Rey Antoque for the final pangtali which serves as your time stamp (they have a knack for just appearing out of nowhere). I asked him how much further, 12k na lang daw. But my strategy was thrown into disarray when veteran ultra dude Ron Sulapas, still very much in the game, told us it was more like 18k out. 18k??You have got to be kidding me. Coach just said 12k! Abby was getting pissed off because we couldn't seem to get a clear picture of much further we were going. Even AJ and Duart weren't quite sure. Thankfully, Doc Art somehow managed to catch up with us, and he seemed to know the way. Amidst the last-minute chaos, a glanced at my watch. If it were 18k more... .
I need to start running. Now.
Malayong malayo pa Kuya... .
It's getting to be hot. Really hot. Once again, the lack of a test run couldn't have been more evident as we entered the busy, winding streets going to the shrine. For someone who had made it to to this point relying heavily on pace, distance and time projections... . now I didn't have the slightest damn idea where we were going. Or how far we were. Abby was starting to look a little bit wasted, but was tremendously effective as a drillmaster/inspirational leader. The pain, oh God I don't want to think about the pain anymore. I knew that they were all blistered up, but at this point that was the last thing on my mind. Just wanted this over and done with. I tried asking a tricycle dude how far off we were from the shrine, and was met with an incredulous reply that serves as the header of this paragraph. Digging into what seemed to be my 7th wind already, I was spilling my blood and guts onto that pavement already. Malayo pa ba... ..
Panandaliang Ligaya
AJ and Duart were scrambling to get distance projections and to give nearly per kilometer support for us. This was the final stretch. Winning time baby. I had gone through so many up and down cycles that I had lost track already. The term "threshold of pain" has been redefined several times already that I may just end up giving it an altogether different meaning after the whole thing. Quite truly, it takes a different animal to tame this distance. I would whine incessantly, the lack of a clear goal bothering me. AJ kept on trying to explain the projections but nothing was entering my brain. Both me and Abby were at the mercy of the elements, and right now it wasn't showing that much.
After what seemed like an eternity of pain, the gates of the Capas National Shrine beckoned. Me and Abby were going nuts, the joy was impossible to contain. She kept on telling me that she was proud of me. But wait, there was a catch. To successfully complete the distance, we had to do an extra loop past the monument and back to do a full 100-miler. We were all told of this beforehand. Problem with me was, in my semi-delirious state we thought it was pretty near. I could swear that someone said 5k na lang! Malapit na!
Rule #1 : Don't listen to strangers.
Rule #2 : Never, EVER take "malapit na" at face value.
Rule #3 : " 5k" is relative .
The Final Showdown
Pain. Suffering. Guts. Determination. It's been such an emotional rollercoaster for us and I couldn't stop thanking Abby for willing me to this point. We got news that there have been only been less than twenty finishers, maybe I could even crack the top 20. So all we need to do is cruise, relax, game over. We couldn't have been more mistaken about the entire thing. You know that feeling when you know the race is over and your levels start to normalize? Then all the aches and pains come in? Of course it's normal.
My problem was, it happened to me just a couple of kilometers early.
AJ and Duart were intentionally withholding it at that time, but they knew that the full route was a 4.5 killer uphill and back to cover the missing 9k from the original 151k historic route. Our first inkling was when we saw TPB icon Junrox Roque looking spent, probably the first time I ever saw him him in that state. Argow, OJ, Kelly Lim, I haven't seen them in hours and yet there they were on the homeward journey. Two things. Either they had all slowed down like crazy... . or that final stretch was so far out and difficult that it took them forever to get back. I wasn't about to put my money on the former.
That last 4.5k uphill stretch ranks as probably the greatest physical and mental challenge I have ever faced. After 150 kilometers of running over nearly 27 hours , an extended uphill stretch is the last thing you would ever want to see at that point. Everything was sinking in, my system rejecting everything. I was puking out the gels, and even Gatorade was nauseating. The heat was simply unbearable. I wanted to collapse. Every labored step would elicit a pained yelp from me. If I were to capture a microcosm of the suffering and sacrifice of the actual Death March, I was going through it right there. Abby was compelling me to move forward, but she was in tears as she could see, feel my suffering so near the goal.
Mybody and mind have both shut down. I have squeezed every last ounce of humanly strength that I could. There is... . nothing more. To the last drop. The uphill climb seems to be endless with no relief in sight. Going up the hill with my eyes closed, I nearly fall over Abby. My battered soul lets a blood curdling yell, a final testament to the flawed limits of human physical endurance. Truly, why did I ever subject myself to this anyway? When will it ever end?
Alas, I refuse to be denied. This is it. This is my moment. When all is gone, the spirit will always remain. I am running on utter fumes and Abby is willing me to that line. Because as one would realize when doing ultramarathons, , this " war" that I've been harping about since the very beginning is not fought on a battlefield with guns or soldiers or generals. It is fought in the inner recesses of your own mind. Drawn out into the outer fringes of your own heart. YOU are your greatest enemy... .. and greatest ally at the same time. It is a dichotomy that has no equal, accessible only to the chosen few who dare tread that fine line.
Suck it up. Pain is temporary. Glory is forever.
Everything is just a blur now, unraveling in my head as some high- definition, stop-motion slideshow. That final agony of running downhill. Running into Cebu ultragal Haide Acuna who was going strong as she entered her own final battle. Entering the monument while running at full speed, tears streaming down our cheeks as the magnitude of an accomplishment that couldn't have been farther from reality was slowly sinking in. The unbridled, once-in-a-lifetime joy of finally crossing a finish line 29 hours and 30 minutes after I had left its counterpart a hundred miles away. Hugs from the man who gave me a chance to show my mettle when very few believed I could do it. Hugs from a crew who didn't have to do it, but did anyway for the sake of a friendship that has stood the test of time. Hugs from the best girlfriend in the universe, who gave so much of herself to the endeavor and whose unshakable, iron-clad belief in my ability when even I myself had lost faith proved to be the winning quotient.
I said it once, I'll say it again - BDM is not for the faint of heart. But for those who dare, it will provide that introspective journey that life in general is largely bereft of . It affects you. It changes your emotional blueprint, and shakes the very foundations of your self-belief at its most visceral level. It's a life's experience's life experience, providing you with tall tales of glory and determination meant to be passed down from this generation to the next.
To those who are wondering if I will ever subject myself to the same, er, unique experience in the future, the answer is a big resounding NO. Never. Never ever.
But then again, wasn't that the exact same thing I said last year?
I was never really a marathon fan. Some people do 5, 6 of them a year. In three years of running I have done two. No, this new race cooked up by Pat and Ton isn't my third. It's actually my second marathon. Ohhh. Surprise surprise. For a guy who has run 102 kms and is planning to tackle 160 in a couple of weeks, you would probably think that I'd have a higher propensity towards long distances. Paradoxical? Yes, perhaps. But we're not here to dwell on the philosophical and introspective trappings of why I'm not exactly your neighborhood marathon man. I'm here to tell you all about my bittersweet journey, so let's get started.
The Background
Funny thing, in relative terms I scarcely had any preparation for this. No fancy 12 week program. No fancy 16- week program. Done that before, didn't quite work .Why? Beats me. Maybe I overdid it, maybe I just wasn't at the requisite fitness level yet. Anyway, after doing mostly maintenance work for sprint distance triathlons, I started "training" for this some time December. I was obviously out of shape, so I figured if I took on a couple of long runs and amped up my mileage, the rest would take care of itself. While this admittedly unscientific approach would undoubtedly draw the ire of online running guru the Self Coached Runner, it came to the point where I somehow had to reconcile my multisport commitments and the specter of BDM 160 hanging over my shoulder. Oh great, BDM. Yeah. But let's save that story for another day.
D-Day, 2:00 AM
While most people had a relatively good night's rest, I barely had any shuteye owing to some last minute Gingerbread errands (don't bother asking). So I'm sleepy, crabby. I feel sick. Ultramarathoner Abby is in zombie mode, but she's still cute. I need a pick me upper. I chuckle when I recall that "Viagra-as-a performance-enhancer" argument. Hey, one day I may just be crazy enough to try it out.
D-Day, 3:00 am
Straighttalk -you know how you just want to get that Number 2 out of the way, but no matter how you force it, well, er, nothing? And at the most inopportune time once you arrive at the venue and nalamigan ka, patay na? It's happened to me before, I sure as hell hope it won't happen again. So how do we remedy this relatively unexact science? You tell me. Send me your best suggestions, winner gets a prize. Snap.
BHS, 3:45 am
The drive from my place took like 7 mins. Thank God for C5. Now if only it would actually stay that way during our regular hours of waking existence. I arrive and meet the TPB boys at ROX. Some interesting sidelights : Brando getting ITB a week before Condura, which sucks because he has been submitting better splits than anyone else in preparation for his first marathon. He's going out on a limb (hopefully not literally) in giving this a fair shot. In related news , Ronnel doesn't have a race bib. Rumor has it that his mom threw it out while doing some cleaning on his room. Ouch. Random sightings : BR posing with a couple of gladhanders and fans. He's running as well. Couple of powerful triathlete friends and well as non-friends ( I don't mean that in a hostile way, that just means I am not on their radar) trolling the grounds. The much hyped, much slimmed down Bearwin Meilly. Couple of Kenyans. Our Kenyan TPB teammate. Wait, there's a Kenyan TPB dude? There's a steady, palpable zing in the air, you can almost feel it. For most if not all, this race serves as the culmination of months and months of hard work . Fitness First Gal goes up the stage ( is it just me, or does Fitness First Gal seem a couple of bench presses away from reaching Chynna levels on those pecs?) and does what she does best. The game's afoot. Let's get it poppin.
Km 10. Moving too Fast.
Dammit, I started too fast. Here I go again. Made the mistake last year, made the same mistake this year. My theory is, if I start from behind and things go awry, I don't have enough in me to pull a negative. So I'm thinking if I work hard enough while I'm still fresh, perhaps I can put myself in a position to get that elusive sub-4 while just soaking in the pain. Hmmm. Sounds like a plan. Blood and guts. Kaso, I opened at 5:00 pace. Aside from the usual monsters (e.g. Junrox, Wilnar), I think I'm pretty much hanging with the big boys here. I feel strong. Maybe this will be a good day after all. 10k split : 50:17
Km 21. Losing Steam.
I'm losing pace. Endure Multisport/Quest 825 buddy/mamaw Erick G. just passed me at breakneck pace (he ended with a 3:50 or better if I'm not mistaken), this after a long bike ride the day before. Geez, this guy is constantly reshaping any paradigm that may have been out there before. Multisport star Retzel , who as always downplayed his running capabilities, looked very strong. Ronnel ran it anyway without a bib and breezed by me. Ditto for Beeps. I am starting to regret both my lack of running fitness and the chutzpah for starting out that aggressively. By this point I am running with a feisty, determined Brando. I am trying to hang as much as I could but I don't feel good. Whoever thought running the Skyway was "fun" should try this out. We're fighting, hanging. Sige lang. 21k split : 1:52 something.
Km 32. You Only Get What You Give... ..
Is it just me, or does it seem that the Skyway is taking forever to end? I mean, last year it didn't seem to be this tough. Wat a whiner. But hey, I asked for this. I am struggling, losing pace by the minute. Some semblance of cramps are starting to form. By this time, Brando had left me to eat his dust. Multisport stars Javy Olives and TJ Isla emerged from behind and were still very strong. I knew that they had a 3:45 target, and if only I could hang with them maaaaybe I could get out of this in one piece. I was successful for a kilometer or three. Alas, I was on the fast track towards a precipitous free fall, and I just couldn't match their pace. Maybe next year. TPB buds Joms and Mark pass me towards the latter part of the Skyway, I'm bottoming out already. Col. Bong from Quest passed me and boy did he look fresh. Oh the horror, my worst fears coming true. Last year, at 32k we were already at the Buendia Takbo.ph support station. This year, we were still traversing the endless slopes of the scenic yet treacherous Skyway. To make matters worse, that crazy guy with glasses who always runs topless has just about reached me. Crap. Is he running or doing a jiggly dance? How... . hypnotic.
Km 37. Panandaliang Ligaya.
Cramps. Shooting up incessantly up my calves every 5 mins, I am relegated to a shuffling motion that is eerily reminiscent of a penguin in heat. I can only look forward to the Takbo.ph aid station knowing that Abby and the rest of the gang was there. I have served in these support stations before, and the boost you could get from them is invaluable. I enter to raucous cheers and my girl giving me a fresh supply of cold drinks and food. Talk about a pick me upper. Alas, psychological highs could get me no further with this one. Before I could even finish the banana I was chomping a new set of cramps hit me. Hard. This time even the quads were locking up. I'm still fighting. Maybe I still got a shot. I've slaved long and hard to put myself in this position. It's winning time. Get it together Luis. Let's go! Km 37 split : 3:22
Ultrasupport!
Km 37-42 So near yet so far.
Ironic that I'm only 5 kilometers from my goal with 38 minutes to spare and yet that finish line could have never seemed any farther. I can hack a 5k in 20 and change if I'm actually in good running shape (rarely happens, if ever.) But obviously this is a different ballgame, and with each attempt to "run", the lactic acid factory in my legs seemed to just produce more and more of the wonderful substance. My calves, quads, and all those other parts i don't know the name to had completely locked up already. Leading up to Kalayaan flyover, I guess this was the lack of a dedicated marathon program haunting silly ol' foolhardy me. This is a classic choke if I ever saw one. Work hard since 4 am only to throw it all away during the last 5k. Undoubtedly frustrating was the fact that while I was sprawled on the floor wincing while a marshal was "inspiring" me to go on, at least 50 people were passing me left and right. Ugh dammit. Right at the very end. I guess could have used that Viagra right now. Frustration, exhaustion, I can't quite explain the whole gamut of bittersweet emotions running through my head. As debilitating as the pain was, I was physically and mentally spent. I just wanted to get the hell out of there and soak in a hot tub. That final 5k stretch was a sorry sight, and as much as those Photovendo proxies did a god-awful job with the pictures ( just speaking for the whining masses), they did a wonderful job in not capturing my wincing, whiny profile during this final stretch. As I entered that final chute amidst a cacophony of cheers, once glance at the clock showed I had missed my goal miserably. 4:14. Dang. Even that final strong finish was ended abruptly by both my legs locking just as I crossed the line. Pfft, so much for that fun finish line picture. Any other way, I was just glad it was over.
Epilogue
In retrospect, it was a bittersweet finish for me. I'll take it as a moral victory. Because even if I fell just short of my goal, I felt if I had strategically approached it differently the result may have been more favorable. Nevertheless, for a guy who hadn't hit that distance in nearly a year, I guess an improvement of 42 minutes in just my 2nd marathon aint too shabby. Maybe we'll get it next year.
In the meantime, where can I get that Viagra... ...
Just when I thought race organizers had pretty much tapped the well of ideas when it came to your staple weekend road race, my sentiments were proven wrong once more. Enter the Rogin-E Last Man Running Race, a surefire test of will, guts, and endurance.
This is actually a late post, I missed the presser last week because I have coaching duties for Adidas ANR on Wednesdays. Sucks. The food must have been good. Anyway, this race is brought to you by Edward Kho, best known for his able stewardship of the Conquer Corregidor/ Corregidor International Half Marathon series. Leave it to Ed for coming up with some novel plan to excite you running denizens out there. Anyway, there's a 5k and 10k run on this, with fun medals.
Nifty. But the centerpiece event is the Last Man Running event obviously. Only one winner. P50,000. Fancy Trophy.
Nice Nice. How does it go exactly? Here's the official word (that I shamelessly copy pasted from their powerpoint) All participants of The Rogin -E Last Man Running Race must maintain the corresponding minimum pace at the following portions of the race period: 1st 2hrs - 6min/km, 2nd 2hrs - 7mins/km, 3rd 2hrs - 8mins/km, last hour - 9min/km. This will be monitored by red shirt wearing pacers who will be running alongside the participants. All participants who will be unable to maintain the minimum pace will be swept off the course by roving as well as strategically located (at every 50m along the course) race marshals. Aside from this, the pacers will also be given the same colored strings at each pass at the checkpoint. Any participant who will be wearing one less string compared to the pacers and are passed by the latter will also be swept off the course. Now that's challenging. If only I wasn't doing BDM 160 a week after that I'll give this a shot. P50,000 ain't something to sneeze over. So if you want to test your limits and see what exactly you're made of, here are the steps to registration for this. § From January 7 to February 20, 201 1, customers who purchase a Rogin-E bottle at ANY DRUGSTORE will be entitled to join the Rogin-E Last Man Running event on February 20, 2011 at McKinley Hill, Taguig City. § T Mercury Drug
Walk-in must purchase a Rogin -E bottle at registration booths during the event. Once receipt is presented, customers must fill out the registration form which covers a waiver of liability. § For those joining the endurance run, an additional copy of a race result page of a full marathon (42.195km) or a race longer than a 42.195km marathon (held within the last 6 months prior to the Rogin -E event) indicating his/her name as proof or a certification from a physician indicating fitness to participate in an athletic competition is required. Are you good enough to be The Last Man Standing? That's for you to know and for us to find out.
Busy weekend for all of us! It's one of those weekends that so many big events were held concurrently. Running denizens were divided amongst the Cebu International Marathon, Subic International Marathon, Fat Ass 24-hour run, and the 2011 Bull Run. With a veritable smorgasbord of choices, let's see how everybody fared with these different runs.
I wonder how SIM 2011 fared this year? Among the people I knew, only Endure Multisport star Erick Guieb joined this one, and last I heard he was gunning for a modest below 5-hour finish. But knowing him, he probably did it in 3:45. Lol.
I was part of it in 2009, running the 10k Nike Human Race (where I placed 13th) and the 21k race (where I ran with Tito Caloy) Sigh, how time flies so fast. Internet Legend Tito Caloy has since gone back to the professional competitive drinking circuit, he missed it too much. Came in to the scene too late to know who he is? Google google google.
Those were the days...
Back to his first love.
In related news, SIM was also memorable for me because I ran into Ultramarathoner Abby on the way there at Kenny Rogers along NLEX. It was the first time I had seen her in years. Who would have known... ... .. :P Uuuy.
Our first ever picture together hihi.
Back to SIM , that was also memorable because we were doing support for the marathoners and water ran out as early as 18k along the route. A trip down memory lane : Craig Logan was pushing Justin and collapsed. Rico sacrificed his race and rushed him to the hospital. Argow was overcome with emotion as his first marathon was marred by a lack of adequate water.There was a screaming mob afterwards, as a result there was TOO much hydration the day after for the 21k race. Fun.
It's howkay, we got your back. Hug.
As expected, the Kenyans dominated this year's race with Vertek opting to compete in the 21k, eventually winning it. When will we ever have someone else other than Vertek to chase down these dudes?Can Cris Sabal hold his own? Someone give me data please. Winning time of 2:23 probably wasn't even close to their best.
Sometimes, I just realized that if I were a girl, I would be a very fast girl. A very fast, tall, and fugly one with hairy legs at that.
Congratulations to all who joined Cebu. Wonderfully organized race, I ran the inaugural edition last year and gave it rave reviews . It was as if the entire city was in synergy for one dynamic event. Haide Acuna, Doc Bontol, John Pages and the rest of the Cebu gang no doubt contribute to the robust running community they have over there, and this race is a succinct reflection of that. Only downside - you'll probably have too much fun with it that you might end up getting drunk and messing up your race. Not guilty as charged. Pockets of Endure, ANR and TPB people were there, tell us all about how it went! I have no doubt it was an awesome race as always.
Last year with Cebu running celeb/BDM 102 batchmate Haide
Cheering on Takbo.ph boss Jinoe on his first marathon
The Fat Ass Run has long been some sort of an urban legend amongst ultra running folk, and I remember when quintessential ultraman Atty. Jon Lacanlale started it a couple years back. Back then, it didn't really garner that much attention save for a few hard core crazies. I had always wanted to run this, but for some reason it always worked against my schedule. So I was pleasantly surprised that it seemed that 1 in every 4 people seemed to be headed to Clark for it. If I'm not mistaken, you can run in 12 and 24 hour increments. Damn right it's crazy. Among the notables, BR did a leisurely 54k in about 8 hours, Frontrunner EIC/ Hardcore chief Jonel did an inhuman 121k in nearly 22 hours, and Albert "Run2dmoon" Salazar emerged this year's Fat Ass King with nearly 140k over 24 hours. Wow.
Jonel overcome with emotion at his "graduation" after running for 22 hours.
While I'm having the time of my life being a spectator/heckler here, I shudder to think that I'll be running 160 kms in a little over a month. Ayayay.
Don't you find it ironic that the people who join Fat Ass don't have anything close to resembling a fat ass? In fact, I have a sneaky suspicion that after running for 24 hours, they may not even have an ass at all.
Of the all the aforementioned races, the one I did join was the one closest t0 home, the 2011 Bull Run at BGC (yes, I'm hip like that. Fort? Ano yun?). Fresh from winning the team championship at Fort Running Festival, Team Powerpuff Boys (affectionately known as TPB or "those pink guys") decided to take a stab at the team competition once more with momentum on our side. I got to train once with the gang, and if before I felt we were on a somewhat parallel fitness level, their resolute dedication to training has reaped incredible dividends. Being engrossed into establishing some semblance of a multisport base, I simply couldn't hack the aggressive programs I used to pull off. The disparity was blatantly obvious. My guys (no homo) simply ripped the course apart en route to the team snagging 1st place in the team category once more. Our goal was at the very least 1:20, and everybody did way better than that. Notable performances included Chris Iblan running an inhuman 1:03 ( 3:58 pace for 16k??) and Brandow snagging a 1:13 (wild 4:34 pace) . As for myself, I served as the weak link, checking it a lame 1:21:15, 5:04 pace which ordinarily would have been fast but these guys put that to shame. I need to ramp up my running, the boys are tearing it up there.
TPB with, er, fans :P
Posing at the awarding "Bb. Pilipinas" style.
Mary Anne Ringor usually does a good job at organizing, last year was pretty good. This year,epic fail at the 16k gun going off ten minutes early. It was supposed to start at 5:45 as was announced in the published material. We were at the corral already, and me Jix and Nick took a leak thinking there was more than ample time to get back. Much to our chagrin the gun went off as we were on the way back. We're vets at this, and it's really no big deal even if wading through hundreds of 10k runners and the back end of the 16k pack was draining. Still, it would be nice if we could keep to the published start times.
Double fail to the drivers along the Makati ave intersection who kept on impatiently honking their horns. You see there's a race going on, a little consideration wouldn't hurt. Highly indicative of our mentality, in other countries people on the road would actually cheer runners on. Hay nako.
Fail to Accel gels. Gu didn't have any chocolate variants, so we decided to give it a go. Tasted good, but I don't think it helped me one bit. In short, it was so bad that even the placebo didn't work. Shucks.
Tip of the week : 1 pound lost = 12 seconds faster in a 10k run. Lose 10 lbs, that's 2 minutes off your time!
Pilipinas Cycling League's season opener, a century race in Jala-Jala commences in Jan 23, Endure Multisport is competing. I'm antsy, haven't had a good road ride since my crash. Pray pray pray.
It's BDM test run season, and I'm pretty much missing all . Why? For the simple reason that I plan to race Condura 42k. I have a friendly bet with bossing Jonel because he's doing the test runs. If he still manages to outrun me it's Mcdo breakfast time. Juicy. :P
That's all for this week folks! Good job on your races and see you on the road!
It might be how bare the house looked as I placed the last glittering glass ball into it’s box for another year. Or it could be that the days following the bright lights of the Christmas season really do stretch on forever.
It could be called a seemingly never ending blur until springtime. The days can feel empty, forlorn, dark, dreary. If we let them. Up here our winter is fully invested in it’s seasonal onslaught, it’s not fooling around. The weather version of “giving it 110%.” The white stuff is falling as if water squeezed from a loaded sponge. Piling up in big drifts, billowing. Snow blowers, and shovels are no match for the falling white stuff today. All of the features in the landscape are one big downy puffed up coating. Freezing cold temperatures, icicles, snow covered roads. Not much to inspire even the hardiest of souls in winter is there? “This the time to reflect, look around, and dig deep for creative inspiration. “ It can be dark out, miserable, wet, snowing, depending on where you live. I’ve been watching for the light, and those oh so rare, sunny days. We get only a few brief shining hours.
They show up once in a while if nature is feeling generous. Then it’s time to grab the camera, bundle up, venture out into a very cold day, freezing fingers, red nose. But the feeling of coming back into the house, camera card loaded with shots, is one of euphoria. There winter, take that! January Joy is mine! Find more wintery shots on my Instagram feed, link on my sidebar. Feel free to tag your wintery shots #JanuaryJoy so we can all see them. JANUARY!!! Maligned, detested, sad little month, no holidays, bills come in, it’s dark, and gloomy, it’s easy to come up with reasons we don’t love it. Some people break their resolutions, and have to start their fitness programs, vowing to lose weight… not us of course. But… What if we learned to love the month of January? Just for the fun of it, I’m challenging all of us to come up with a few reasons to love January, and I will include them in Wednesday’s post. Are you up for it? Get creative. Here’s my first reason. 1. You feel virtuous about going for a walk, after all, it’s really cold out there, and you definitely deserved that second piece of cheesecake for venturing outside. If you liked this post please share by clicking on the share buttons below.Thanks!
47:53 . Those were the numbers flashing in my head as we were awaiting the starting gun. What's so significant about this figure? To those who have been hanging out in caves lately, matinee idol Piolo Pascual turned the general running populace upside down with an earth-shattering 47:54 performance at Timex, a staggering time for someone whom purists term a "non-runner".
Meaning, he doesn't exactly eat, sleeps and think running as, er, the rest of us do. Thus it has been a sort of rallying cry to beat his time at all costs, if only for my "eating-Piolo's-dust-then-waking-up-in-cold-sweat-at-3am" episodes to cease.
The Venue Aptly dubbed the BF Pasko Run, The Village Sports Club played host to this race, which turned out to be a welcome respite from your usual diet of BHS and UP runs. By my estimate, the race had about 400-500 runners, and gave off the warm, communal vibe that "south" races typically offer. Pretty good deal too - for P350 you get a dri-fit singlet (very wearable) and an RFID tag. Not bad at all.
The Reinforcement
The so-called "Kanto Boyz" pace group ( someone please think of a better name) had its debut at New Balance with mostly positive results for everyone. So it didn't hurt that we had an elite reinforcement to help bolster our cause. One of the nicest guys at Takbo.ph, Wilnar had always told me that he never enjoyed too much success playing basketball, and that it was one of his biggest frustrations.
Evil Basketball Teammate : Wala kang shooting! Wala kang depensa! Lay-up lang, airball pa! Pangtakbuhan ka lang eh! Wag ka na lang kaya maglaro! (throws ball forcibly to Wilnar)
(pan camera to Wilnar with lips quivering, and with mist building in corner of eye)
Wilnar : Makikita nyo... . sisikat din ako... .. may araw din kayo... ..
You mean you don't want me on the team no more?Then he had a Eureka moment - why not he move into a sport that involves running... . and pretty much nothing else? That he did, and the rest is history. A 40 minute 10k and 3:38 marathon later (not to mention a TNF trail runner-up finish) and he is well-entrenched as one of the strongest runners in our group. He tagged along out of sheer boredom, and I successfully pitched him the idea of anchoring the pace group along with Pat. Surely, having the presence of such strong runners could only help the rest of us improve our times.
Wilnar with Internet legend Tito Caloy The Mass With not too may people around, it wasn't exactly a logistical nightmare for the organizers in terms of their pre-race onsite registration and singlet claiming. In short, things were running smoothly and it seemed that we were going to start on time. Come 6:00 am, we were all revved up and ready to go as the host was reading out sponsor names. Then, she called on one last guest - the neigborhood parish priest to give the opening prayer.
Opening prayers are well, opening prayers right? They typically last for about a minute. But Father was obviously on a roll, and could care less about heat or starting times. Not that I blame him though ; his line of expertise culls influence from a higher power. Thus, he could make us wait all day if he wanted. In common parlance, this would be a walang palag moment. And it made for a heck of a lot of unintentional comedy.
As the "opening prayer" (with matching responsorial psalm) hit the 10-minute-and counting mark, the runners around me were going absolutely crazy as they could NOT get mad even if they wanted to. For your enjoyment, here are some sound bites from within hearing range :
"Father, patawarin ninyo ako pero magkakasala ako kung tagagal pa to"
"Counted na ba to para sa Misa mamaya?"
"Uy san ung misalette?"
"Sana naglabas muna sila ng Monoblock"
"Oist bastos patayin mo nga iPod mo may Misa!"
As the final "Amen" reverberated across the starting corral to racuous cheers worthy of World Youth Day, the host (who looked as uncomfortable as any of us) immediately started the countdown. And so it begins... ..
Walang Palag :) The Peloton Falls Apart... Very Quickly
Apparently, the anxiety of waiting too long got to my pace buddies, and they shot off the starting block like a bunch of maniacs. I simply could not keep up. Given four good training days the week prior, it was expected that I'd be operating at a higher level of fitness. I was fading very badly, about a hundred meters from the rest of the gang. The I took a look at my 305. 600m... . at 3:45 km/min.
Wha?? 3:45?????? What the fudge??? What happened to our even split strategy? No wonder I felt like dying. I assumed the rest of the gang was running at a 3:30. And to add more to our quandary, Mark suddenly shot out like Usain Bolt and overtook everybody, even Wilnar and Pat. We assumed he did a Max HR 3:00 split, but what the heck was my good buddy thinking as well? Amidst all this confusion, I tried hard to normalize my breathing and get my wits about me. We still had a LONG way to go.
Peloton falls apart... very quickly.Getting it together
I gradually settled down, and eventually passed Mark (who must have been completely gassed by his fartlek move) and Jix ( winded by the horrible start as well) I once read an article on Ryan Hall, and his coach was saying that even if you go just ten seconds faster than your intended pace, your fallout could be as much as 60% over the course of the entire race.Suffice to say, I was extremely gassed. And mind you, the course was not easy. It was a sustained rolling course, with the incline at the Tirona area mimicking Mckinley quite accurately. There wasn't as much "completely flat" ground as I had expected. My anaerobic reserves have been depleted very early, and I felt i was running on sheer guts. The fade was starting to kick in... .
The Man In KOTR Red
It was not the first time we had met. At PIM, we were going at it the last 2k. Obviously an experienced runner, he was really, really strong and I was trying my best to use him as a target. Here, we met again, and it was a seesaw battle. Fading badly and with smirking Piolo hallucinations in front of me, I decided that every second counts. And this guy was my key. I would try overtaking him, then he'll catch up. We''ll go neck and neck, and he'll pass me. Was like a boxing prizefight. However, in my diminished positive split state, I felt he was definitely stronger, and he eventually put in a quick burst that left me gasping. Nonetheless, that precocious pseudo-rivalry no doubt slashed precious seconds off my time. I eventually passed him, but not after he had slowed that to pace with what I assume was his wife.
So to the Man In KOTR Red, whoever you are, thank you for the push. And I look forward to running with you in future races again.
KOTR 2007 singlet = Strong, experienced runner Bittersweet Endings
Suffice to say, I didn't beat Piolo.A fat 5:17 split at km 9 all but sealed it. Missed the bus by 39 seconds. But still a happy run because I took in a 48:33, good enough for 22nd place in the race. Wilnar took 14th, Pat 19th, Jix 27th and Mark 32nd. Not bad for a crazy start. I still believe that if we had maintained an even split we had a shot at it.
One last thing. I would like to acknowledge the honesty of our new Takbo.ph members Mike and Eden, hubby and wife team. Eden was mistakenly awarded 3rd place for the ladies 5k, when in fact she had only run 3k. Some sort of mixup. They could have taken the loot and ran. But they told me about it, and I relayed the info to the organizers so that the rightful winner could be called. Now that's what I call a class act!
Overall, nicely organized community run with matching raffle at the end. Of course given my luck at raffles, I didn't win anything. At the Takbo.ph Christmas party I won... .. English proficiency lessons. I guess that says it all. (x_x)
Congratulations to Tiffin and Zinnia for taking podium finishes in their respective categories. RFID worked pretty good this time, a variance of only 8 seconds from what my 305 registered. I genuinely enjoyed this, and I'd give it a go again next time around. Congratulations everyone on your respective finishes! Keep on running to burn away those Christmas Party fats haha :)
It's been just over a month since Adidas held its highly touted annual King Of The Road race. To pre-boom running denizens, KOTR was one of the most awaited races each year. The fact that it always seemed to have the best singlet of every season didn't hurt either.With the running community growing year in and year out, I'll rattle off ten quick things about this year's experience.
1. Singlet Fun? Last year's singlet took the cake, with a revolutionary yellow and black motif that has been ripped off endlessly in smaller races after. A lot of people I know last year registered if only to get that fancy singlet. Yes, it's happens more often than you think, and I'm guilty as charged. With that in mind, expectations were sky high for this season's event. How could they possibly top the best singlet to come out in ages? What fancy color scheme would the mad geniuses at their design unit come up with? Forum chit chat had numerous guesses , and rumors abound that the original color would be changed.
Nevertheless,excitement was at fever pitch.
In the end, they went with... ..
Black.
While it would possibly appeal to the minimalist, most people still preferred last year's edition. Decent singlet with sizing on the large side, add it to your collection stashed in your aparador. Last year the yellow and black ones were ubiquitous. In the weeks after, I barely see it on the road. Shucks.
2. ANR Singlets
Cheap, P995 bucks. Imported material coming from SG for the exclusive singlet of the Adidas Adination of Runners members. If you aren't in the know, it's a community-based group run/pseudo running clinic/random weekday social gathering held at different locations throughout the metropolis. Quick bit of useless trivia: I'm the lead facilitator of the Ortigas area sessions, and we meet every Wednesdays 7:30 pm at Pearl Drive Mcdonalds. Join us, it's a lot of painful fun. Going back to the singlet,I guess it's a decent deal if you have money to burn. For the price I paid for it, I feel faster already. Amazing.
p.s. Dear Adidas, I'm broke. Thank you.
Hmm, this makes it all worth it :P
3. 21k hotcakes
Last season, 10k kits ran out in a matter of days. This year, it seems that the running boom learning curve snapped up the kits before you could say pikermi. While projecting these things is like playing a game of sa pula sa puti at Resorts World, hopefully they could get it right next year.
4. Hydration Hydration.
Big fuss over hydration, or lack of it for the matter.After the race, I got into a semi-sensible discussion with some disgruntled runners at the Takbo.ph boards . Same old same old. Hydration runs out for whatever reason, blame the organizer. Vent it out online. Or on whoever has a contrarian opinion.
Listen, running is no joke, specially when you tread the middle to long distances. I know Rio spoils you to death with overflowing drinks for his races. That's awesome. But he won't be there all the time for you and you CANNOT expect the same level of organization for all races. Hope for the best but expect the worst. Races aren't Club Med, it's a legitimate athletic pursuit with your life possibly on the line. Would you really put your life in the hands of other people when you had complete freedom to bring your own hydration beforehand? And to whoever sardonically dissed me on that thread for suggesting it's your responsibility to bring your own hydration, I sure hope as heck you won't be needing that ambulance you suggested I bring with me on race day once you run out of drinks on your race. Splash.
It's worth it.
5. Pandesal and Hot Dogs.
I could have sworn that there was supposed to be a buffet for the runners. If they changed it, I totally missed it. The pandesal and hot dogs underwhelmed me, not that I was hungry anyway. Feel bad for the guy who thought he was at the buffet line, ANR registration pala.
Yum. 6. Alay Lakad
While I lucky enough not to be personally affected, people were complaining about how the massive crush made the route practically impossible to traverse. Some were relegated to doing a sort of Alay Lakad move. Quick question, is this phenomenon a totally unavoidable consequence of a really big race right smack in the boom ,or it could have been rectified by proper execution?
It's the next best thing.
7. 250k Baggage I sucked out at the 10k category I ran in, checking in at a modest 51 minutes or nearly 5 minutes off my usual time. Takbo.ph prez Jinoe lustily jeered me at the line for failing to break the sub-50 barrier (I am still serving a lifetime ban on being a Takbo.ph hoff for hitting it before him. Hihi.), but unbeknownst to my good friend, my rubbery gingerbread legs were bringing with them roughly 250 kilometers worth of crushing bike mileage. I had competed in the mutliple stage Tour of Matabungkay with Endure Multisport's cycling team just the day before, and with little sleep, I felt like I was dragging around a ton of bricks with me. Even if I felt my fitness level was at an all-time high, there was really nothing I could do. People were passing me left and right, and being the competitive nut that I am, the itch to just chase them down but having no physical capability to do so was driving me crazy. Still quite an experience though, revenge is due next year smirk.
Kalayaan 12, GBM 11 8. Fulfillment It was pretty nice to see a lot of my Adidas Adination Ortigas runners "level up" with this race, taking down 21k's with relative ease. When I first met some of them, they were tubby ordinary joes who could barely complete a 5k. Now they are fit, veritable weekend warriors already looking ahead to the upcoming marathon and ultramarathons in the 2011 calendar. Hmm... we must be doing something right eh? Proud "coach" here. Sniff.
This group has come a long way... 9. Kleptomania in the house.
Sucks. As I was busy facilitating the insane rush of people registering for the ANR sessions (the booth was mistaken for the baggage counter like a gazillion times) , I made terrible mistake of placing my brand new, fancy Adidas Techfit shorts (which set you back a cool P3,000 believe) on the counter. Amidst the mob scene, I thought nothing of it, it was like inches away from me. Much to my abject horror, I suddenly noticed it was gone. Aww shucks.That crap happens? Even here? And to think I tried my best to smile and humor the people despite the hassle and the crush of the crowd. Cruel. Chalk this one up to the "loss of faith in humanity" list.
Asar.
10. I will never run this race again!! That was what people said last year after the debacle in claiming the race kits. And yet this year even more people joined. I heard practically the same thing in the aftermath of the race, but why do I have this sneaky feeling the race will set another attendance record next year? Go figure.
Hey hey hey. I told you I'd come up with the weekly update! Just keeping my end of the bargain. Thanks for all the support guys and gals, traffic to the site just shot up 120% over the past two weeks. Much love, very grateful and let's keep it coming.
The survey on the middle part of our home page was asking you all what was the biggest impediment to you taking up multisport. 41% of the responses said they didn't know how to swim, while 39% said they thought road bikes were too expensive. The swim part is workable, I could hook you up with my coach (who handles several of us at Endure Multisport) for "friendly" rates if you want to conquer your fear of the water for starters. As for the expensive road bike, its either you take out that long overdue SSS salary loan or just do it the old fashioned way. Which is to spend like a hermit all year to save a little, wait until 13th month pay kicks in, then combine the two to buy your precious road bike. Of course, while that would mean you won't be buying anyone anything for Christmas, just keep on staring at your bike to cover for the grief you'll be receiving.
Swimming doesn't have to be this hard.
In the weeks leading up to Powerman Malaysia, I was already feeling iffy. Probably the long grind of a deathly hectic season was getting to me. A three-week long fever? Okay that's odd. Coughing up blood? Freaky stuff. As much as I abhor hospitals and try to avoid them at all costs, this was too creepy to just let pass. After about four hours spent in an isolation room, thankfully my fears of pneumonia or tuberculosis were unfounded. I was diagnosed with chronic pharyngitis, there was a tear in my throat that relegated me to sick leave for a week. What's the implication of all this? I was planning to go for an intensive 21 day "pahabol" training for the NAGT season ending triathlon at UP Los Banos. Now that's seven days gone, I feel like a fat slob, and my fitness level has all but evaporated. Good luck for the next 14 days.
Fat slob days are here again
We've been blessed to enjoy the continued support of race organizers, and I try to share this with our readers as much as I can. Thanks to everyone who participated in our Mcdonalds and Vertical Marathon contests, hope you had fun at the races. Will keep you posted for more fun giveaways as they come.
Happy winner Mark. Congratulations!
I'm happy to see a lot of people "leveling up" by the unprecedented number of entries to a 32k race during the last Unilab Rio gig. Let me make this bold prediction : We'll see a record number of marathon entrants in the 2011 season, and we'll also see a record number of too-much-too-soon knee injuries. Take it from the guy who did a 50k ultramarathon before he even did a full marathon.
It's Christmas party season. Xmas Party = food. Food = Tubby fat. Tubby fat = slower you. Xmas party = bad. But then again, it's Christmas so screw it lol.
I'm going to start a new cycle of the highly touted P90x workout tomorrow if only in a lame attempt to get in shape to curb the aforementioned Christmas fat . I already completed the 90-day program before, hard as heck but never felt better. You should give it a go. I'm not saying I have a bootleg copy, but I MAY possibly know someone who does. (slow-motion wink)
Just 90 days baby!
If you haven't read that "open letter", my trusty 305 is in dire straits. Who's giving me a 310xt for Christmas?
In the unlikely (asa) event that no one gives me one for Christmas, what's a better deal ? A new Ultegra groupset (cycling/multisport people help out) or that 310XT? Sob.
Sob. Yum.
Is it just me or is that picture above ginormous?
Was looking forward to run the Resorts World race this morning, but got too stressed from some bike mishaps yesterday. Sorry Jinoe and Que, I couldn't get out of bed. How was it anyway? Feedback from those who ran it!
What did happen to me ? After pretty much hassle free riding for several months, I suffered my first two flat tires yesterday (thanks to WRT vet Emil for helping me out) on a Antipolo-Laguna route, got my chain dislodged twice and nearly got run over by one of them counterflowing cars (About two inches from disaster.Karma will hunt you down my friend) The coup de grace was when I was inadvertently left behind, and I got extremely lost, traversing the very long and very congested commuter route (Binangonan, Angono, etc) instead of the scenic Antipolo route. Was also forced to walk my bike more than 5k amidst the madness, impossible to bike in bumper to bumper traffic. I think I worried my teammates (and Ultramarathoner Abby)to death as I had no money, little water and no cellphone. Touched that they waited for me though. Not my day. The next one will be better. Still a career high 152k ride, unfathomable a couple of months ago.
I was driving home when I saw the formerly world-famous Tito Caloy, who's now enjoying his retirement from his storied running career. Keeping a low profile, he has opted to concentrate on his competitive drinking. His bpm (bottles per minute) pace had dropped when he started running, so now he's concentrating on training for the 2011 Philippine Drinking League season. He says hi to everyone who actually remembers him, and that he's available for personal appearances for your Christmas parties. Just text 0917- 8- TCALOY for details.
Rare appearance by the legend. Have a good running week folks :)
Powerpuff Boys. TPB. The crew with the can't-miss singlet has steadily garnered a cult ever since a highly controversial runner-up finish during the inaugural Chris Sports Epic Relay 250 Race. In the months that had passed since their cause celebre' , the open-source singlet had become a veritable fan favorite amongst running denizens. Perhaps because of the fun color, but more so because a lot could relate to the scrapping, never-say-die attitude the team exhibited during its maiden campaign.
It's fuchsia. With team running events few and far in between, not a few wondered when the men in fuchsia would ever don their proud colors again. Would they ever get a shot at redemption? Alas, a rare opportunity presented itself - The Fort Running Festival. 30 runners to a team, best cumulative time wins. The yahoogroup immediately went off the hook as the team scrambled to search for possible members, given that the original team only had ten competing members .
In the mold of the original team, the closest thing to a competitive sub-elite team was formed. These are dudes who may not be considered as "elite", yet showcase an advanced level of fitness in consistently placing in the upper percentile of local races. I guess people could relate because you don't have national -team level professionals , but ordinary working people with day jobs who have dedicated themselves to a committed healthy lifestyle. Weeks turned into months amidst numerous roster changes due to a laundry list of reasons. The final lineup comprised of a motley crew of marathoners, ultramarathoners, triathletes, mountaineers, running veterans, greenhorns, and one running ninja. I had quite the experience with the team during our Epic Relay run, certainly one of the highlights of my year. Even if I was one of the central figures in our "controversial" finish, the goodwill generated by the entire experience overshadowed whatever bitterness ensued. That said, I couldn't wait to race with these guys again. Much to my chagrin, it was scheduled on the same day as the Speedo National Age Group Triathlon, which I had been preparing for. So I essentially passed for this race. In yet another twist, registration slots sold out like hotcakes three weeks before, which practically never happens. Thus, I was left without a race! Great. Blessings come when you least expect it though. Regrettably, someone had pulled out from the roster due to injury days before the race, and they were scrambling to find someone on such short notice.
While it's not exactly GBM saves the day, because I'm really just a roster filler, I was overjoyed at the prospect of donning our pink colors once more and just having an awesome time with the gang.
D-Day The team met beforehand for a quick pep talk and to finalize all remaining logistical concerns. We also wore the Adobo Run promotional bibs that our buddies at Paul Calvin's Deli hooked us up with. To quote that dude in Ocean's 13, I felt like I was in a " field of excellence". Some of these guys I had never met before, but I was well aware of their running pedigree. The ones I did know, these were stacked with very strong runners, top-tier stuff. Original TPB members abound too, practically everyone from the Epic Relay campaign was there. As much as the atmosphere was light and relaxed, there was a subtle yet palpable feeling of pressure.
I had to deliver. I couldn't let these guys down. Not while wearing these colors.
And So It Begins The gun went off without any warning, and so were off. I was particularly worried because I have been putting more effort into bike and swim training, and my supposed bread and butter running capabilities were pretty much non-existent. Got to pace with low-key original Takbo.ph moderator and Philippine Blog Award finalist Natz Garcia, one of the strongest runners I know. A past Milo National finalist, his season-long spartan approach to training manifested immediately as I could barely keep up with his machine-like pace. There was jostling on the route, some starting out crazy fast. I was a goner by the 7th kilometer. Gasp. Wheez.
Halfway Mark Settling down to a more comfortable pace, I got to hang on with speedy TPB pioneer Mark Mulder, our short-distance specialist who was making his debut at the pikermi distance. Always helps to have someone act as your metronome, keeps you from slacking off. Entering Bayani and Heritage, we were hanging tough even as a mass of people from another race got us off-tangent for a couple of moments. Note to self: You should go inside Heritage Park more, it's actually beautiful inside. Ran into original TPB skipper Brian Rivera (who regrettably skipped the race due to injury) and Doc Eire there snapping up photos and mouthing words of encouragement to us.
Pain amidst beauty at Heritage for the TPB Boys 3/4 of the way
Last 15k. As me and Mark were laboring on the way back to Bayani Road, I was telling him that if we just gut out that last uphill at the Essensa area, we'd have it made. Silly me. They keep on adding these fun uphills in a never ending variation of all possible Fort Routes. Running on fumes, don't even know how I'm sustaining this. Mark is lagging back a little, from what I would later learn were shin issues. Just a bit more... .
Last Kilometer Surprisingly, I still had some spring in my step, so I was pouring it on with Mark right on my tail. Strong finish, let's go for this. Only, the finish line was coming in too... early. Aww shucks. I clocked in at 1:43 on a 21.3 course, which would have meant a phenomenal 7 minute improvement over my personal best. Extrapolating that pace to the full distance (and there's no doubt in my mind that I could have held it, lowered it even), it would have come out to a high 1:46. Not bad,still a personal best. As much as personal records are nice though, this was one race where the team came first.
Near the chute Vindication, Retribution Though this race lacked the inherent drama of Epic Relay, there still was a lot of suspense with it. As the TPB crew piled in one by one, we had no idea if the aggregate time of the team would be sufficient to win it. Further exacerbating our anxiety was the fact that Running Ninja Sam, a regular sub-2 hour finisher and BDM 102 veteran was racked with cramps somewhere along the route. Tough break. In our heads, our worries about teams making up the distance were only overshadowed by our worries for a fallen comrade.
Time seemed to stand still. Finally, we saw Sam limping through the line in a gutsy 2:30 effort. Cheers abound. Now all we had to do was wait for the official announcement.
I was chatting with Abby when suddenly I heard awards host DJ Chloe of 94.7 call out the winners of the team event ... .
TEAM POWERPUFF BOYS!
Oh my. Bedlam ensued. Suddenly, 30 pastel-decked guys were rushing the stage like a victorious soccer team at the World Cup. It was noisy. Very noisy. I honestly thought the stage would give way. Celebration indeed! It was particularly sweet for the pioneer Epic Relay team , who not only lost the championship under highly questionable circumstances, but also saw our runner-up finish completely unacknowledged . At least for one fine day, we were champions. Indeed, victory is sweet.
And in deference to a completely forgotten aspect of racing, something had slipped our mind, because it's usually reserved for the pros - we had won something! In this case, cash! A cool P15,000! Ah. The spoils of war.
Beep Beep can't take his eyes off the prize
We win at last.
Post-race breakfast at Paul Calvin's
Victory celebration at Joey Pep and launching of dri-fit TPB shirts
They say life goes around in karmic cycles. I guess this race is a prime example. Thank you to all those who have supported us through our ups and downs, we truly appreciate it. As for the team, it was an honor racing with you guys. I wonder where the next adventure will take us?
Wherever it may be, I'm pretty sure the boys in fuchsia will be ready for it.
Ola friends and readers! Once again, I'd like to thank you for all the support you have been giving this site. I still get amazed at how far we have gone, and that the site is still actually up and running. Obviously, I couldn't have done that without your support. Anyway, we all know it ain't easy to maintain a blog, more or so that a lot of my articles are feature length. Combine that with a hectic dayjob, some semblance of a training program and that more or less equates into article backlog. Admittedly, I'm behind by several articles now, and I hate stale news as much as you guys.
So with that in mind, today we're launching the very first edition of Gingerbreadtalk! I know it sounds kitschy but you can only append so many words to "Gingerbread" (note to self, think of a better name before the next public enterprise). It's going to be a simple, blunt and straightforward weekly update on all things running and multisport. I highly encourage you to comment and put in your two cents on whatever topic is pertinent for the week. Also planning to revive that Gingerbreadcast thing we used to do, wait up for more fun interviews.
Most creative title of the year nominee right here. Ulk.
So without further ado, here's the week that was :
If you're keeping tabs on the community and are on some form of social media, you've probably come across my recent campaign at Powerman Malaysia. The race is a long distance duathlon comprised of an 11k run, a 64k bike and a 10k run after, and stands as the only qualifier for the World Duathlon Championships in Switzerland. I was there along with several members of our national team. With only ultramarathoner Abby as my support , we had to withstand a plethora of mechanical, logistical and physical challenges to even make it to the start line. I seriously underestimated the difficulty of putting the whole thing together, but hey, isn't that what makes the experience all the more meaningful? Stricken with severe cramps and with sleep deprivation kicking in, I finished the race in an off-form 4:24:52. Given all the crap we had to go through though, I was just thankful to have made it to the start line, much less finish with some semblance of decency.Thanks for all your greetings of support! Wait up for my full article on it, should make for a very interesting story. Also, thanks to Jinoe and Que for finally putting me on the Takbo.ph front page! Finally made it after all these years haha :P
With national team mainstays Evelio Javier and Carlo Pedregosa
Congratulations to all those who successfully completed the NY Marathon this, including Rio, Jaymie/TBR, Jay, and Endure Multisport pal Joy. I'l probably never do Boston unless I maintain my current fitness level until I'm 80 years old, so NYC is probably the most realistic on my bucket list of marathons. Now, all I have to do is figure out that proof of financial capability thing, get out those land titles and wish that I get lucky with the lottery :)
One day... ..
Congratulations to the new rockstars (clever huh) who conquered the Tri United Half-Ironman distance triathlon at White Rock, Subic. Back when Ironman 70.3 didn't have a franchise yet in the country, this was probably the most anticipated triathlon event every season. Now that all the hype goes to Camsur, the vets and purists still regard WRT as more enjoyable, and even tougher in terms of level of difficulty. Hopefully I'll get my shot next year. Swim swim swim.
Looks like fun...
After a presscon last week, was touching base with some old friends when I was suddenly reminded of something that I had long tried to forget already - what the crap ever happened to Run Radio? For those who have been around long enough, after Jaymie and Jay hosted Season 1 on NU 107, myself and the irrepressible Bards Bathan of Banana Running fame were supposed to take over for Season 2. Series of meetings, series of delays, a "primer" of some sort, a magazine presser, series of more meetings and more delays. An after- election launch was the last I heard of it. Natalo na si Gibo, nagsara na NU, wala pa din. And I guess that was that. So much for my one real shot at fame. Boo hoo. Think of all the what if's. Sigh. Haunts me to this day. Smirk.
Epic fail.
Congratulations to all new minted ultramarathoners who successfully completed Sir Jovie aka the Bald Runner aka BR's T2N or Tagaytay to Nasugbu 50k jaunt. I took a peek at the results and was floored that there were 159 finishers of the race, a good number of which I had known since they were newbie runners angling for a 21k. Level up! When I did my first 50k, Ian Alacar's Botak gig, I think there were less than 50 people there and it was a big deal to hit 50k. Props to BR for promulgating ultra running in the country, and it seems the market is responding with rapid traction.
I haven't taken out my bike from the box. I wonder if it's still in one piece? Shudder. Props to the guys and gals at Bikezilla in Ortigas for helping me out and giving me a crash course in assembling/disassembling it. Even if I sucked out, at least I had enough knowledge to actually put it together.
Missed a Pacquiao fight for the first time in years, fell on the same timeframe as my duathlon. Got to watch the entire thing on those illicit YouTube uploads that are taken down after an hour for copyright infringement. Catching them is much akin catching lightning in a bottle. KJ naman kasi pfft.
Those KOTR race cards were hilarious, a glitch somewhere in the timing thing and everything was off the charts!
TPB bro Mark just officially set a new world record
Speaking of ultramarathons... ... I finally got my BDM 151 ticket! And so did Abby! Thank you BR for the vote of confidence, it's an honor. Now the question is, can I somehow garner the time and commitment to train for it, given the multitude of things on my plate now. Decisions decisions. Hmmmm... ...
Can we do this all over again?
Good luck to all those running Run United (which has a shockingly fancy 32k, good job) and the Milo provincial qualifiers this weekend. There's also the Animo Run and a run in Ateneo. Which side are you on? Till next week folks!
8,000 runners. Sold out slots. You have to give it to Nike to whip up a frenzy in attracting a staggering number to participate in what's essentially "just" a 10k. The latter inference is a testament to the drawing power of the shoe behemoth's crossover appeal, compelling even casual runners to pay top peso for what essentially amounts to a short run that you and your buddies could bag in two hours easy. (with matching tsismisan at BHS)
Defying Expectations
Two years ago, the Nike + Human Race was held at Subic ( check out my feature back then, I painstakingly googled it in five seconds. Let it transport you to a time when people still actually commented on blogs) as a side event to the what would be much- maligned Subic International Marathon. To those who weren't around the scene back then, that race had hydration supplies run out at more or less the 25k mark and it was so dark runners couldn't see their feet. The angry mob and the collapsed Kenyan at the finish line pretty much summed up the sorry state of affairs for that race.
Manila was not an "official" city in what was supposedly a simultaneous run around the world by Nike users, and suffice to say response and participation were tepid at best. I was there about 40 minutes before the race and it didn't even seem that there was one going to be held, so much that I had to ask if I was in the right venue. Aside from "celebrity" ambassadors (yes, I will forever consider my good buddy Bards of Bananarunning one) and Sun billboard habitue Jaymie giving the requisite interviews, there was pretty much no action going on. It was around this time that pundits were saying that the running craze had hit its peak and that it would die a natural death like badminton, billiards, and Zagu.
Admit it, you fell in line before just like the rest of us. Fast forward two years, and it seems that the doomsday naysayers need to eat their humble pie. The running community remains as robust as ever. BHS is teeming with runners even on a weekday, so much to the point that they were even given their own dedicated lane. UP is likewise packed as runners stride away till the wee hours amidst the lush foliage backdrop, and you see people running in places you never even thought were "runnable" if there were such a word. This notion is further reinforced as evidenced by the overpowering show of force presented during the latest incarnation of its signature 10k race.
A Newbie Once Again
The afternoon start time being a decent come-on given my hectic training schedule, I sauntered off to BHS in relative ignorance of where the venue actually was. I assumed it to be "the usual" starting venue ( if you're a runner who has actually joined a BHS race, you know what this means) but it turns out this race was more dynamic than others. It took me a visit to veteran Runnr gatekeeper Nikko to get to know that it was actually near the drive-thru Starbucks area. Well that's something new.
Feeling Noobie. Quite ironically, while I've probably been running longer than about 95% of the populace present that Saturday, I felt like the newbie. I didn't know a single soul, not a single familiar face in the crowd as I trudged to the starting line. Arriving early in anticipation of the mad throng, I made my way to the "VIP Lounge" to presumably pass away time. I don't why they termed it as such, there was really nothing going on save for a few cocktail tables. I finally saw a couple of Takbo.ph buddies and old hands in the industry milling about, made for some decent catch-up conversation. Even good ol' Bards was there, haven't seen her in ages. A little-known but often overlooked fact is that the two of us were supposed to host the second season of Run Radio before it got scuttled due to unpublishable reasons. At least it makes for a good inside joke. Also got to exchange some niceties with Polo Tri friend Tricia Chiongbian-Concepcion, who I last saw while we were getting blown around at White Rock (watch out for my even more delayed article sorry na). She was hosting the show with sportscaster Anthony Suntay, an old neighbor and gym friend nearly a decade ago. I seriously doubt he still remembers me although he's too nice to admit, so I'm probably just the creepy guy who always says hi. Eek.
Let the show begin.
Wow. The atmosphere was something else. Having participated in multisport or cycling races for the majority of the year where the participants rarely even reach 400, being part of the 8,000-strong hive was a strangely invigorating experience. We were whisked to the "VIP" starting area which separated us from the rest of the runners by a burly bodyguard-manned cordon. Felt sorta awkward though, I've never been part of such and who the hell am I anyway lol. And with so many "VIP"' people there, I guess you could say it what somewhat of a misnomer in a sense. Speaking of real VIP's, the favorite presidential grandson (yes, I'm referring to Joshua) made a grand entrance with some buddies three minutes before the race was to commence. He was promptly greeted with spirited cheers (or jeers, depends if you're a Kris Aquino fan) of "Bimby! Bimby!" What fun.
Bimby pa din.
Moving Too Fast
With recent sports-car collector/race director Rio tersely walking around in the background, the countdown clock was rapidly approaching all zeroes after Fitness First gal did her requisite warmup set. Former Philippine Blog Award finalist, Milo Nationals qualifier and Team Powerpuff Boys teammate Natz Garcia was clowning around with a big Ipod strapped to his arm, apparently his Garmin broke down. Naturally untrusting of GPS, he even brought along a map.
Natz not taking any chances.It's no big secret that this is my first straight up running road race since Condura, so I think I got overexcited. I started off way too fast for my own good in keeping up with the main pack, about 3:45 pace for the first kilometer. The atmosphere was tremendous and the adrenalin was pumping. However, my adrenalin sort of forgot that given that I'm preparing for a full Ironman distance race, I didn't have any hops on me. Second, I just came off three hours on the bike trainer earlier, which rendered the race into a virtual brick workout. I tapered off considerably by the time I reached the 3k mark and was fading fast. Some schmuck overtook me and gave me a cheery pat to boot, and it turned out it was tridol Javy Olives of Tri'n Hard fame who was killin it with his teammates Drew, a guy who I could have sworn was Raoul Floresca and some dudes I didn't know. Tuhog City again. Oh well. My pace was dropping fast and I didn't have any anaerobic capacity to keep up.
Habol ng Habol
Kilometer Five upwards was a struggle for me on the surprisingly tough course. The effect of the brick notwithstanding, I haven't done any interval workouts since preparing for the Olympic-distance Subic International Triathlon earlier in the year. Obviously, my OAstart didn't do anything to help my cause. I was just trying to keep up with whoever was in front of me, and the distance was starting to feel like forever. Another TPB teammate Alex Mac passed me with relative ease, damn these guys are in shape grrr.
Huff, meet Puff. At around kilometer 8, I saw Ultramarathoner Abby hanging around to cheer me on, she made it just in time to see me discombobulate lol . Legacy TPB teammate Ronnel was catching up with me, and so was ultrarunner and budding triathlete Carly. I even saw a bare-chested Adobo Run and CIHM head honcho Ed Kho scurry about. As the humidity level was slowly engulfing the crisp early night sky, I limped home across the line to a high five from Rio in a pedestrian 54:xx, a mid 53 on my Garmin as there was a nominal disparity of about 200 meters. Not exactly a performance I would be proud of, but a half-decent brick time I guess. I was targeting at the very least a sub-50, dream on brother. Interestingly enough, it was still good for 110th place amongst 8,000 and if I were to base it off Javy's time, a decent performance could have cracked the top 20.Not that it matters, but that's just the competitor in me aggravated at my lack of preparation although I was really just supposed to "take it easy". Couldn't resist.
Post-Mortem
Overall, it was refreshing to be back on the run circuit again after an extended absence. Nike and Rio did a yeoman's job in providing an innovative approach to this race (including a cool flash app to track one's results) as the market continually strives to look for something new. The custom-built route was challenging and the hydration was more than adequate. I'm guessing though that not a few were disappointed that a much-touted Nike Lunar Glide USB wasn't given, a snag attributed to supplier delays. Instead, the runners had to content themselves with drinks and a Nike poster.
In retrospect, why do runners shell out that much cash even if it's "only" a 10k? Furthering the discussion, how has the running sub-culture sustained itself even if some races border on redundancy and corporate profiteering? I've come to surmise that it's not just the branding or the freebies. Running, at least for the most part, is a shared social experience. It's the camaraderie, the competition. The water-cooler kwentuhan at the office the following Monday with your officemates, heck even your weird boss. The street cred with your friends (and the lack of it if they missed it). Social dynamics constitute a powerful, dynamic and sustainable force, and coupled with looming health benefits the formula for long-term viability is in place.
It's not Badminton or Billiards. Running is here to stay, whether you like it or not.
Hmm, the gal who emailed this to me forgot to reply to me. Thus, I forgot to post it also. Oops. Anyway, not sure if you can still push for a late reg, but its still a fun event to join. Never ran this though, was afraid of blowing an ACL or something. People who have swear by it though. And you get that cool shirt. Someone please send me one!
Here's their presser :
Be Race-Ready for the
Men’s Health Urbanathlon 2010
Tired of running your usual races? Take your running to the next level with Men’s Health magazine’s Men’s HealthUrbanathlon 2010. With tougher obstacles, an intensified course and more racers, this year’s race is expected to be the most demanding Urbanathlon to date.
The Men’s Health Urbanathlon is a city-based, multi-disciplinary race that integrates various urban structures as part of the course and will be held on November 7, 2010, Sunday, 5:00 A.M. at Bonifacio Global City (BGC), Taguig City .
Registration for the Men’s Health Urbanathlon begins September 28 and ends October 26, 2010. The r egistration fee for the race is P500.00 and includes a race shirt, drink stubs from Gatorade, food stubs courtesy of Century Tuna and an issue of Men’s Health magazine .
The Men's Health Urbanathlon 2010 requires more than just perfect running form and endurance so make sure you are properly trained and fit for the event. This year, 360° Fitness Club , the official gym partner of the Men's Health Urbanathlon , offers race registrants a discounted membership training program designed by 360° Fitness Program Director Chappy Callanta. Visit the 360° Fitness Club at Strata 100 bldg., Ortigas Ave, Pasig City to experience the 360° workout and get race-ready in no time!
For more information about the race, visit www.menshealth.com.ph/urbanathlon or add us on Facebook, www.facebook.com/menshealthphilippines . The Men’s Health Urbanathlon2010 is brought to you by official sports drink Gatorade , official food sponsor Century Tuna, major sponsors V+ Jeans, MSense, Sun Cellular, minor sponsor Lipout, official heart rate monitor Suunto, official gym partner 360° Fitness Club and registration partner R.O.X. Special thanks to radio partners Magic 89.9, Jam 88.3 and RX93.1.
You have got to be kidding me. No way. Inhuman effort at Nike Human? Goodbye sub-50 dreams. A steep incline seemed to be sardonically staring me down just as I was gathering momentum. I figured, yeah I'll ride it out and hang on, I have enough in the tank and enough of a pace bank. Little did I know, that was easier said than done.
But hey, what the heck am I talking about? For the sake of literary jurisprudence, a short backgrounder.
Strictly speaking, the Nike + Human Race 10k was originally conceptualized in 2008 as a relative point of convergence for runners from nearly 30 key cities from all over the world. The routes would pass through some pretty awesome sights, for instance in Istanbul you run across the bridge that connects Europe to Asia. Utilizing Nike + technology, a case could be made for the "the world is flat" paradigm as thousands of runners all over the world could log on to the Nike website and upload their times , essentially engaging in a virtual competition in a race that knows no borders.
Bridge between Asia and Europe is... Cool. To spice things up, there are different Nike Ambassadors assigned per country. The Philippines had five, all with teams under them that add up to the virtual tally board on race day. In terms of representation, runner blogger par excellance Bards Bathan of Bananarunning took up the cudgels for the general blogosphere.
Who was your ambassador?Even if Manila was not chosen as a key city for this year's event, the race actually took on a greater cause in the wake of recent calamities that have struck the country. For every kilometer ran by a Nike + Sportband user who took up the Nike Ambassador challenge, P10 would be donated on their behalf. In addition to that , finishers would have P100 of their registration fee donated to Gawad Kalinga efforts for Typhoon Ondoy victims.
So now that you know all about it, what exactly happened on race day?
Remy Field. Subic Bay Freeport. 4:00 pm. So I'm here at the impressive track oval of Remy Field, just a few minutes away from our hotel at Forest View. Some of the Takbo.ph gang have already gathered around, some of them running their maiden 10k's like Lorie and Bea/Notsquare .
As people were milling around aimlessly, there was a certain palpable degree of uncertainty over the whole thing. Why? If you are used to the whole "event-style" weekend runs as of late, roughly 30 minutes before gun time it seemed as though there was nothing going on. No fancy American accent DJ host blurting out ads and wittycisms, no hot Fitness First gal to do stretching, no Pia Cayetano giving words of inspiration, no Luke Mijares to sing "Love of my Life" (oops got ahead of myself there).
Sorry Luke, you're up for the next column I was somehow expecting a shtick of some sort, just because it was Nike. Nah. Not a few runners approached me and asked "Sir, tuloy ba?" . I really didn't know what to tell them. But hey, I could care less. I came here for the thrills, not the frills. Although frills never hurt anyone :)
Remy Field. Subic Bay Freeport. 4:25 pm. Out of nowhere, an emcee abruptly announced that the race would be starting in 5 minutes. I looked around, and by my estimate about 200-250 runners were there. Slated to run the 21k event the following day, my mind was fixated on a quick, flat run. A run wherein if I get lucky, I could nab that elusive sub-50 without expending too much energy. The utopian in me got a bit carried away I guess. Quick countdown, quick prayer, and let's see how this thing unravels.
Kilometer 1-2 . Resisting Temptation.
Positioned near the starting line, the lead pack of runners took off in a blinding burst of speed. I estimated though that there were about 30 runners running like there was no tomorrow, can't have that many elites around right? So I resisted the temptation of going at it guns blazing... and my calculations turned out to be correct. One by one their pace dropped, and by the time we got to Km 2, I had passed about 10 of the early birds already. Was cruising at 4:35 - 4:39 km/min, felt pretty strong at this point. I was thinking, if I can build enough of a big lead during the first half, I could hang on for a nice touch to my weekend. Turns out, the fates weren't agreeable with me today.
Hard to resist the temptation to go all out when people are passing you.
Kilometer 2-5 Better Luck Next Time.
Just when I was getting comfy, the incline that came into view took the wind out of my sails. An extremely steep, curving incline that instantly reminded me of those that I had faced in Baguio (I walked) and Corregidor ( easy run, I got really tired) . With no hill training over the past two weeks, I churned in a big fat 6:12 split over the stretch. My pace plummeted all the way down to 5:30 . I was getting more and more zapped by the minute. With my positive split strategy, no way I could make up that big of a differential in a diminished state. That was it. Game over. Better luck next time. Uwian na. But then again... .
Missing the sub-50 worse than getting "basted"? Kilometer 5-8 What Goes Up, Goes Down : The Final Stand I stopped for a moment at the 5k water station to get my bearings back. I traveled all the way here, spent a couple of bucks on a hotel, for what? For this pedestrian effort? C'mon quit whining and get it going. I made a resolute effort to give this my shot. If I'm going down, I'm going down on my shield. At the risk of blowing out my quads, I blazed through the downhill portion with splits of 4:08, 4:12, and 4:18. Gave it all I got . And yet again, this only managed to get the pace down to 5:02. Gulp.
Make it worth your time and don't go down without a fight Kilometer 8-10 . Accepting reality. Having brought down my pace to some semblance of respectability, I was fast fading. I was hoping that after my final assault, I would be at borderline below 5 minutes. Not happening. So the key is to be realistic, just accept that it isn't your day, and go on to fight another battle. But I still had 2 kms to reconcile. I had a bike escort with me, which was cool. The bike escort couldn't do anything about the truck fumes that were right in my face as we negotiated the route though.
As I was reentering the Remy Field oval attempting to chase down a powerful runner (I affectionately dubbed him Energizer Bunny ) who was about 20-30 seconds ahead of me, I suddenly realized that I cleared 10k much earlier! The distance turned out to be in excess of 450 meters, or nearly half a kilometer. Finished strong with a split time of 52:01. The reality was, I missed my goal. But given that monstrous incline, satisfied nonetheless
The reality is, I gave it my best. But my best wasn't good enough.
The Aftermath What a race! I enjoyed it, even in a masochistic sort of way. The buzzword amongst the finishers was "!@#$ na hills yan". Even Jaymie/TBR agreed that it was one of the toughest, if not the toughest 10k of the year. Somehow got ensnared in an interview for QTV along with Ambassador Bards afterwards, gak :)
What freebies did I get? An uber cool, exclusive Nike Human duffel bag (okay so it's the same thing they gave away at QCIM but it's still cool), one Pocari Sweat and one water. I heard beforehand there was supposed to be some sort of finisher's Nike bracelet or band, didn't really see anyone with it.
What could be improved for next time
Nothing to lose sleep over, but still noteworthy to mention for future considerations. Distance was in excess of 420-450 meters, matched this with mine and 3 other people with a Garmin. There were no water stations after the turnaround point, woe to the newbie runner or those making a jump to 10k. Also, the people kept on sticking around for the results, the emcee kept on stalling until after the SIM winners arrived to keep the people there. It was announced more than 3 hours after the finish, and by that time I had to leave to support the rest of the team at km34. Went back after the whole thing was over, and had to badger the ACSAT people for the results. Took 15th place out of 270 overall , my first time to crack the top 15 of any race, so hooray. :)
To conclude, the route itself provided a lot of thrills for those who ran. It was definitely not your typical weekend 10k. And knowing that P100 of my money would go to a GK project for Ondoy victims makes my screaming quads a whole lot happier. No-frills , lots of thrills, even more uphills. In spite and despite, was proud to have been part of this.
(starts writing letter to Nike making Manila a key city in 2010) :P
Editor's Note : This is well, um, about a month late. By the time you read this me and the Quest boys are already on our way to the Tour of Subic, our final multi-stage race of the season. But hey, just read it and hopefully enjoy it nonetheless, I probably spent more time writing this than I have been training. Due to recent changes in my work flexibility, expect a steady stream of backlog features on my recent races trickle in with the week. In chronological order. Cheers.
Quest 825 recently competed at the Pilipinas Cycling League's Immuvit Race Against Time Tour of Clark leg, held in, uh, Clark. It was a three-stage humdinger spread over two days and the team acquitted themselves decently given this wasn't our "base sport" if one would call it that. Here's an inside look at the pain, the agony and the glory behind this particular bike tour.
Prologue
Executive Cycling is one of those "hobbies" that I had gotten into as part of my multisport training. While triathletes in general are expected to go on long training rides to augment their preparations, not everyone has the cajones to join these multi-day, multi-stage races that would require one to ride and latch on, Tour de France-style, to a peloton ( or in the simplest way I could explain it, a big bunch of skinny guys riding their bikes at full speed separated by about hair's width from each other). Why even bother going on to this blatant invasion of personal space, where the slightest human error can cause everyone to crash like a deck of cards in a chain reaction ? We are all familiar with how drafting benefits cyclists through blocking the wind, that's why it is outlawed in most triathlons. But try hanging out with about forty other guys as a big pack, and your speed and efficiency jumps exponentially. It is a highly taxing discipline that requires both aerobic and anaerobic aptitude. Obviously, the inherent risk factor is part and parcel of the whole enterprise.
Alas, a strong bike split race target usually necessitates either superior genetics (dream on) or a solid cycling background ( you have a shot). Given that I am sure I wasn't blessed with the former , I have thus embarked on a journey of self-improvement on two wheels. This is my first full season competing on the executive cycling circuit, having debuted last year at Bike King's Tour of Matabungkay and participated in several other one-day races and tours from that point. Given that Quest actually started out as an executive cycling team, our participation in this race was a no-brainer.
On the day itself, after a late departure from Shell NLEX at around 5:30 am the determined gang scurried off to Clark for the tour's first stage, a 47.7 km Team Time Trial race.
Stage 1 - Team Time Trial. Bittersweet Symphony.
The Team Time Trial event or TTT is usually considered the glamor event of each tour leg. Given that cycling is more of a team-oriented sport vis-a-vis the rest of the multisport disciplines, the TTT is taken as a consensus of any given team's strength and caliber. Such is the importance of the event that rumor has it that some teams intentionally rest their members through earlier stages to preserve their legs for this relatively short event.
According to a passage I blatantly stole from Wikipedia, "the main principle behind a TTT is that a few riders can ride at the front of the formation slightly above their aerobic threshold while others draft behind these riders. The riders then rotate, allowing some riders to recover while drafting behind fresher teammates. A rider who is riding at the front is said to be taking a pull. Accelerations require harder efforts, and therefore it is desirable to have a smooth, steady pace. Different riders have different power outputs, lactate thresholds and aerodynamics. In order to equalize the efforts in order to not burn some riders off too early, the weaker riders take shorter pulls and stronger riders take longer pulls, all at the same speed to minimize the change in pace. A rider finishing a pull usually rotates to the very back of the formation, and the rider who was formerly behind this rider takes over. " Hmm, sounds complex. But the idea is, the team who could sustain the fastest pace without burning each others guts out is the winner.
Over here at the local scene, the TTT event is usually dominated by powerhouse club Fitness First. As for us, the team had steadily improved from last season. To give you some perspective, these things are usually an hour or less of lung-busting, intensely anaerobic, invective-filled fun. There's usually a minimum of five riders and a maximum of nine with the fifth rider to cross for the team coming in as the time to count. Thus, in theory the more people you have on a team the better the chance for your team members to conserve their energy. The thing with our team was, we had more than nine eligible riders, so we split into two teams. I was bundled with Team 2. On my side was team captain Deo, team manager and Ironman 70.3 World Championships finisher James, Army Col. Bong, veteran endurance athlete Ronald, TTT newbie Karlo and myself. All were capable time trialists in their own right, and ultimately this stage would all come down to teamwork and execution. But the paceline was beset with problems from the very beginning... .
A Shaky Start
Right off the bat, we were beset by unforeseen problems. With some teams a no-show for Stage 1, our release time was pushed forward by several minutes. This was exacerbated by the fact that we arrived late at the venue. To make a long story short, we barely made it to the release time and Ronald was caught up with something, forcing him to ride with Team 1 who had a later release. Thus we had one less comrade to stifle the wind and down to five riders, we were left with no room for error. We had been in a similar position at last season's Tour of Matabungkay, and the pressure- wracked, nausea-inducing experience was not exactly one to relish.
Completely out of sync for starters, we struggled to maintain the paceline. With no actual practice but having a general idea of what to do, the team eventually settled down with our speed hovering at about 35-36kph. So all's well and good. Problem was, Karlo was straining under the frenetic pace and it showed through his pained look specially through the inclines near the Fontana area. Now, we all knew that it didn't matter if the four of us kept up this pace - it was the fifth guy's time that would count. So we had to slow down. Frustratingly enough, we were passed by about three teams while going through this process. But this was a team effort, and no man could be left behind.
Man down... ...
At about the 40k mark our paceline was terribly falling behind our target already and was pretty much broken apart. With no breathing room to spare, each of us weren't taking way-too-long turns towing the line and it was starting to show with the suka pace that we were maintaining. Captain Deo and James had valiantly went back to provide the needed support for Karlo, but the effort had gassed them out. With but a few kilometers to spare, we were all running on fumes. The cycling gods finally decided to spare us a break and with about 500 meters to go the entire team managed to get intact in crossing the line with a 32.14kph ave, good for 23rd of 25 teams. Apparently, Team 1 was beset by their own troubles in finishing with a 35.29kph average for 18th place, seemingly below par for their capabilities. These results in no way did us justice at all, and essayed that even if our individual riders were quite capable on their own, there needed to be a strong degree of teamwork at play to maximize our results. Having less riders also exacerbated the situation. Drained and searching for answers, the Quest gang all set off for a quick lunch at SM Clark before stage 2 was due to commence in a few hours. Yep, you read it right. A few hours.
Wasted, rowdy, hungry bunch after TTT
Stage 2. Circuit Race. Lost in space.
The Tower Burger I had eaten from KFC had not gone down yet, but we had to go. Once again, this proclivity towards being late had us on a mad rush. The dour weather conditions were not helping at all, conjuring visions of crashes amid slick roads. Stage 2 was a 60km circuit race, which true its name counts several loops across the same course. In a stricter sense, some use the term criterium interchangeably to describe similar races, although those are usually shorter in nature and involves removal from the race once you get lapped by the leading pack. As a newbie cyclist last season, I haphazardly joined one of these crits which was stockpiled with old pros and looked more like a laughingstock more than anything else. The manongs watching were heckling me miron-style as I trudged along as the last cyclist to be removed from the course.. I'm guessing the aero helmet did nothing to help my case. Oops.
Di halatang newbie.
A year and a couple more thousand kilometers under my belt, I revisit the concept of the circuit race. At the very least, I hope to get the helmet part right. Anyway, going back to the race. Massaging my still sore thighs, the peloton set off amidst a moderate climb in Fontana that was the highlight of the course. The climb was fine, but having to do it several times over at full speed zaps out your legs one way or another. The first loop was designated as a friendship lap, presumably to serve as a weird form of warmup. Once that was over and done with, the cyclists went on a mad dash that would require every bit of anaerobic juice (at least for lackeys like me) on you to keep up. So I was able to latch on to the main pack, albeit the tail end of it. Predictably enough, my suspect conditioning gave way and I splintered with a group of about five riders, by my estimation about ten seconds behind the main packing. And here's where the fun started. Just as I was gaining some semblance of a rhythm, the guy towing us along took a wrong turn, bringing us all along with him. In the fifteen seconds it took us to get back on the course, the lead pack was out of sight. Great. I was slightly perturbed by what happened and I was left with one other guy. So while rushing to get back in it, at an intersection the marshal was signaling to turn right. Or at least I thought so. Turns out his hand gesture was connoting a "stop" to the other cars (geez how could we mix that up. But yeah we did) and I was off-course again. This was a longer distraction, about 30 seconds. By the time the entire thing was sorted out, I was all alone on the course, deflated and demoralized at such an unseemly turn of events.
I thought of abandoning the race altogether, but then again I'm not a big fan of DNF's. Sot suffice to say, it was like riding an ITT over the final couple of laps, a lonely, solitary route that most would not even bother completing. I even saw a crash along the route, which as I would learn later on involved national triathlete Kim Mangrobang, who was due to compete at the Elite Under-23 ITU Asian Championships in two weeks. She would later share that one of those hyperaggressive junior riders cut her, resulting in a crash on those slick roads. Sort of reminds me that in order to be successful in cycling, you just have to be plain fearless in taking risks. I guess it's still something I have to learn over time.
Loner...
I eventually crossed the line in what seemed like forever, much to the bewilderment of my teammates who figured I'm slow, but not THAT slow. Adding to my chagrin, when the results were released I was mistakenly placed in Excutive A, registering as the last rider to arrive in the division of the strongest executive riders. Oh the horror. Once everyone was accounted for, we all headed back to our hotel to freshen up and reflect on the day that was.
The Lighter Side
After a hearty buffet dinner prepared by the PCL people, the team retired to our comfortable villa at Fontana. We later indulged in the company of veteran elite triathlete Rayzon Galdonez and top executive cyclist Makoy Almanzor. You often see these guys in the heat of athletic competition, and it was refreshing to hear them dispensing race advice in equal doses with classic wisecracks. Here are some of my personal favorites :
Rayzon : Yung nakasabay ko sa run na elite na foreigner na babae nung Camsur, tinanong ako, "Are you Okay?" Ang sagot ko, "No, I'm not Okay. I'm Rayzon. Rayzon Galdonez pleased to meet you what's your name?"
Makoy : Panalo talaga ang Red Horse. Pag sa Red Horse, puro Tama, walang Mali!
With hearty laughter resonating from our living room, I quietly retired to my comfy bed, knowing that we would be in for the long haul for the Stage 3 road race the following morning, the longest leg in the tour.
Yum.
Stage 3. Road Race. A Valiant Effort.
An early breakfast at the nearby Mcdo served as preliminary fuel for the 118 km race that would pretty much replicate the TTT route, only it adds a relatively tough stretch on the outskirts of town to make for several 23k loops. We even ran into my Team Powerpuff Boys buddy and ultramarathon star Junrox Roque ( who's starting to become a force to be reckoned with as well in the short-course triathlon scene) hanging with his executive club Aboitiz Power, a team loaded with strong, veteran riders. For one, at least we all have knack for sausage Mcmuffins early in the morning. Having had our fill amidst the friendly banter, we make our way back to the hotel to get geared up.
We're Late Again
As you may have noticed throughout this feature, this is starting to become somewhat of a recurring theme. For some inexplicable reason, even with considerable lead time, we somehow end up rushing towards the starting grid, making it with less than five minutes to spare. As the peloton was finally released for the conventional "friendship" lap, my thoughts were drifting towards the specter of somehow churning in a creditable performance with my thighs already beaten down from the previous two stages. Word was going around pre-race that last year the peloton took it "easy" during the first few laps because of the relative toughness of the course. With this in mind, I was thinking perhaps I had an outside shot at keeping up this time around.
The friendship lap was relatively brisk, and it comforted me that I was pretty much within the same line as the main pack. So far so good, the whole gang was in sight and I was getting a good feeling about this. The rolling course was not easy though, and I pondered on how I could keep up with the frenzied peloton once they released us. The rain had gone away and the sun was slowly starting to beat upon us. Long ways to go for this.
As my luck would have it, the peloton was released just before the Fontana incline. Great. The funny thing with cycling is that the barometer for success and failure is measured in seconds , seemingly indiscernible nuances spelling the difference between victory and defeat. About a second or two before the peloton was released, my mind inexplicably wandered to some mundane subconscious trapping. And before I knew it, poof. Everyone had at least a five second lead (a lot) on me, and by the time I managed to get my bearings I was speeding along at 45 kph in a vain attempt to catch up. I passed by our team captain Deo and screamed "Habol tayo Kap!!" knowing very well that the slightest let up and we kiss this race goodbye. I raced uphill with cajones-shrinking gusto, and before I knew it I was converging with a fairly-sized group who dropped from the lead group. The pace was frenetic, right around 35-36kph during the early juncture and my lungs seemed to be bursting from the sudden rush. As we stretched out into the highway, a familiar uniform pulled up next to me, and I was overjoyed that Kap had mustered enough to make it into the safety of the chase pack. Save for the TTT, I have been working mostly as a loner for the entirety of the tour so this was certainly a welcome development.
Hanging On
The middle laps saw the chase pack dwindle from a high of as many as twenty to roughly about eight or nine guys. The tough course was unforgiving and the heat and humidity were starting to bear down on us. On the flats we'd hit it in the 45's, then would be focused on the low 30's in a bid to conserve. Slowly but surely, we were getting there and actually putting in a creditable performance by our modest standards. As we were lurching towards the halfway mark , we were quite surprised to see Col. Bong struggling alone against the crosswinds. A strong, consistent rider, we were not accustomed to seeing him get dropped by the peloton . He hung around with us until the feed zone, at which point we just lost track of him. We would later find out that he dropped out of the race after feeling the aftereffects of flu-like symptoms from the week prior. With our reserves slowly being depleted and the sun beating down heavily, it was an interesting proposition to just drop out as well and call it a day. But maybe we had enough to still hack it out... .
Going Down Swinging
As we approached the final lap, our original group had pretty much dropped like flies one by one, and with roughly 20k to go it was just me, Kap and two other dudes. We would take turns on the trangko in a bid to conserve energy, but from this point out it was pretty much all guts and glory. Me and Kap would alternately fade out from the group, then claw back with every ounce left knowing that getting dropped at this point could pretty much mean a knockout blow to one's aspirations of a good finish.
With about 10 kilometers to go entering the homestretch, I felt like I was bonking big time. The other dude fell behind and Kap was still going strong. I told myself, I fought so hard to be in this thing all morning, why give it up now? I figured, might as well go down swinging. As your body bottoms out its reserves and gradually starts to shut down, that's where one's mental fortitude is taxed to its utmost. So with as much effort as one could muster, my battered body was somehow able to throw down 37kph for about a 2 kilometer stretch to catch up with Kap, who I gather didn't even noticed that I was gone. Crossing the line together in 4:06 with the last of the Mohicans was as gratifying a finish I ever had in a cycling event. Checking my race data, the finish time was a bit misleading because of all the long stops we took at the feed zone, and the actual speed we maintained was practically 30kph over a distance that mirrors a Manila-Tagaytay roundtrip. None too shabby I guess for someone with marginal, intermittent training at best. Yipee.
Made it.
Epilogue
Overall, the team had a very creditable finish. Erick stuck with the Executive A main pack in all the road stages, which is highly indicative that he is racing at an extremely high level right now. Cycling main man Julius showed his worthiness to be promoted to the "A" level by nabbing 2nd runner-up podium honors in the 35-39 division of Executive B. The rest of the team all showed traces of significant improvement from the last time we raced here, so we all went home happy. A somewhat unfortunate accident during the last stage marred our good vibes though as Wilnar crashed in a freak accident with only a lap to go, bringing down three riders with him from within the peloton. He suffered a nasty gash on his forehead, but in typical manner he played it down even if he looked like one of them WWE wrestlers who open wounds on their forehead with their hidden razors.
That notwithstanding, it was a creditable effort with tons of room for improvement. As for me, it's back to the drawing board on how to get back into top form. Maybe I'll grab a Red Horse while I'm at it. Puro kasi tama diba, walang mali. :P
So you read the header and it's gonna be one of those reviews again. Yes, it's one of those write-ups that would hinge on my verbose and completely un-expertlike opinion. But before we talk about this... .
Let's go back a couple of years... ... .
OBMC High. 1999. As I had mentioned before, was never really a fan of Adi Dassler's creations. Okay maybe I was . Once. I took the plunge a long time ago, from a time and place that seems to have been relegated to the far recesses of my mind. Wore the Kobe Bryant KB8 "Feet You Wear" shoe during my senior year just because they looked so different from any basketball shoe that was on the market at the time. It was the new "in" thing. And in high school's ever changing lexicon of social stratification, different + new = social status level up.
My ticket to high school social status nirvana Lord I'm such as sucker for effective advertising (x_x). I thought they were the coolest things ever, bragged about them incessantly, could have sworn they improved my standing from "freaky tall geek" to "he's just really strange don't mind him he has cool shoes anyway".
Geeky GBM got a boost with them chickies
But then the real test came when I had to play ball with it. With a lot of confidence, I went up for a fancy "tapboard" (people who played high school ball could relate), made my best Kobe impression and BAM I fell with a thud, breaking my ankle in three places. Strangely enough, my juvenile incarnation blamed the Adidas shoes for that, swore it to high heavens, and never wore another pair again... ..
Until now.
Flash forward to 2009, and lo and behold I have a pair of Adidas Adizero Tempos staring me in the face. Literally begging for a shot at redemption. Like a scorned lover acceding to one last shot at reconciliation, I took a leap of faith and went for it. Did it work out? Let's see how my 3-week dalliance with an old flame has worked out so far.
What's on the label :
It is a lightweight running shoe designed to give runners comfort and support over long distances. ForMotion stability adapts to the ground for improved handling and stability and the pro-moderator medial support device prevents overpronation. The TORSION SYSTEM gives midfoot integrity and adiPRENE in the forefoot maintains propulsion and efficiency.
The air mesh upper gives maximum ventilation and the perforated EVA tongue gives additional lightweight comfort and breathability. The dual-layer anti-microbial adiLite-respoEVA sockliner controls odor and gives added step in comfort. Finally, the adiWEAR outsole offers the ultimate in high-wear durability.
Dazed Reader, through SMS : WOAH. BLAH BLAH BLAH. You're talking Greek here! What the fudge was that all about???
Okay, okay. Let me give it a shot.
What I understood of the Adidas jargon mumbo jumbo :
The cushioning system of the shoe is backstopped by its hyped- up Formotion technology utilizing Adiprene 45 . The logic behind it is that you have a well-cushioned heel but not enough to make it bounce around during hard runs. Note, too much bounce = pain and suffering . Some more seasoned runners may view this as completely "babying" heel strikers, but that's one of the reasons why the Tempo is quite enticing to newbie runners.
In addition, mild overpronators can count on the shoes aptly named pro-moderator system to negate the level of pronation, utilizing two plastic heel plates that slow side-to-side movement.
And if just to avoid more jargon, the shoe has features which make it very breathable inside and minimize stitching, while providing good forefoot touch-off cushioning for the fast people out there.
Pedigree
The Tempo has been touted as the "performance stability" shoe in the Adizero series, providing the benefits of a lightweight racer along with enough stability to prevent you from blowing up your plantar or ITB. To those relatively unfamiliar with the Adizero line, these have been touted to be the lightest in their class, and have the distinction of being the shoes running legend Haile Gebrselassie used when he broke the marathon world record at Berlin.
Haile on Yellow Adizeroes en route to the WR
Weight Implication - Injuries, Training and Racing Its main selling point is that at barely 300 grams, the Tempos are nearly a 100 grams lighter than my old light stability shoes. Upon wearing them, you would barely feel that there's any resistance there at all. You can accelerate without the weird clunky feeling. At first, I was very apprehensive to try these out, as they look like the eye candy shoes you would wear to the mall and it seemed to me that any form of running on these would blow out my knee. Initially thought that these were limited to neutrals, but after nearly a month of using them, the injuries have thankfully been nowhere in sight. And to think I was coming off a bout with ITB. Whew.
Still look good despite taking a beating from the rain
After a few weeks on this, an attempt to use my old light stabs gave the feeling of having ten-pound weights on my foot. The difference was very noticeable. How noticeable? A good example was my tempo training on consecutive days. Same splits, same level of fitness, different shoes. With the old shoes, my best split was a 5:10/ km. The following day, same thing, I miraculously lowered it to a 4:40. I highly doubt I could have shaved 30 seconds off my split in a day. Was it the shoes? Placebo? Whatever it may have been, happy camper right here.
Racing-wise, two weeks later I set a 10k PR of 50:14 with the Tempos, shaving nearly a minute and a half off my previous best. The time was good enough for 26th place at Ayala Eco-Dash, which made me an even happier camper. Pertinent factors to keep in mind : No changes in training, weird level of fitness coming off an injury. Could it have been the shoes? You be the judge of that.
Other stuff that you need to know, just in case:
These are NOT wide shoes. When you first slip into them, coming from say a Mizuno or New Balance, your feet would feel constricted and with no wiggling room. I'm a US size 12, and these usually afford sufficient toe allowance. These ... did not. First time I ran on them they were so tight that I got near blisters on my toes.
I was about to completely give up on them and sell them to the people at Takbo.ph (even if I knew that they're going to ask for a ton of discounts) when the pain started to... disappear. Now I don't even notice it's there.It took about two weeks worth of break-in to get the job done. So for the well-endowed people out there, either you adjust your size or break it in well before racing it.
Final Take
Overall I find this to be the quintessential, aesthetically pleasing shoe that strives to synergize both form and functionality. For neutrals to mild overs looking for a highly serviceable speedwork or raceday shoe, this brings significant eye candy points to the table with decent stability to boot. Should you fall under this category, this is a very strong option right here.
So how would I evaluate the three-week reco with my old flame? Love affairs come and go, that's the nature of the beast. As one leaves for greener pasture, another comes in to fill the void. Everything that happens in between? Oftentimes forgotten. But sometimes, all it takes is a single spark to reignite the connection.
I hated Adidas. They broke my ankle.
But after three weeks of PR's and good races...
Guess old flames aren't so bad the second time around.
