My Way of Living:
road

It has been a little over two weeks since 10 enterprising souls along with their gritty, dedicated support team went out with two vans and covered 250 kilometers covering Subic, Bataan and Zambales during the Chris Sports Epic Relay. By now, you have probably read all about it. Listened to the incredible stories. Heard out the grievances and lamentations. Reveled in the triumphs and cringed at the lows. As of this writing, the discussion thread that we had put together at Takbo.ph has generated 3,317 views, one of the most I had ever seen given that not too many people from the boards were directly part of it. A blow-by-blow feed on Facebook that I was painstakingly updating through my Blackberry even during the wee hours of the morning had produced an incredible 366 comments. Truly, it was a race for the ages, one that people would be surely talking about for months to come.

TPB rocks.
So why such a late entry? Nope, I haven't been that lazy mind you. It's just that with the contentious nature of how the race unraveled, I didn't want to come up with an article that was reeking of input from my hopelessly skewed left portion of the brain. With so much charged energy emanating from the after-race vibe, I thought it best to let things simmer down a bit lest I come up with material with excessive amounts of vitriol.

We'll keep it cool. Er, will try at least.

Given the relative "epicness" of the race, and the fact that I wasn't there personally for all of the legs, I guess it really wouldn't do justice if I gave a blow-by-blow like my BDM feature. We're currently working on a compilation of everybody's experiences, and if no publisher picks it up, we'll most probably post it online mwahaha. Wait on it!

So instead, I'll try my best to give you a microcosm of the race proper(there were 30 legs in all, subdivided into 3 main sections) with my personal inputs on my specific leg.

Legs 1-10
Spirits were high for our 12nn gun start as we embarked on the great unknown. Little did we know that this was to be a race to remember. Given the pace we had declared pre-race, we were bundled in the final, "elite" start wave. Some teams had already started as early as 5am, supposedly to even things out. As nervous energy abound, the teams that we were looking out for were Team Ponstan (supposedly loaded with strong, veteran runners), and a Kenyan-powered Team Runnerspeak. Much to our surpise, there was another team inserted into our wave at the very last minute- Team Timex. Through casual conversation, it was not outwardly stated that this was a sponsored team loaded with triathletes and elite runners. Dropping a faux name (Team Roundsprint?) and giving off a weekend warrior vibe, I guess this was gamesmanship at its finest. Or rather, more like a portent of things to come.

In high spirits... .

And yet anxious for what lies ahead...

As we were awaiting the starting gun, the organizers/sponsors had even put together a "showbiz" style intro, with what seemed to be a hastily organized Ponstan "Pep Squad" comprised of made-up teens gyrating to pop tunes ala ASAP while were baking in 35 degree weather . At the starting line, leadoff guy Mark/Beep Beep got into the action and showed off his "Disco" moves in the background.

Beep could give these teens a run for their money
As the starting gun finally sounded off, there was a palpable sense of nervous energy amongst the team. Extremely anxious, yet confident that our collective abilities will allow us to make a good account of ourselves. It was agreed upon collective during our pre-race prayer that we're not gunning to win at all costs. It's not the be-all end-all of our stint here. We're just going out to have a good time, soak in the experience, and anything we pick up along the way is gravy.

A prayer for guidance towards the right path

And so it begins. As I said earlier, I don't have the capabilities of doing an accurate blow-by-blow for the entire thing (it would take me forever to write it and you might get bored reading it), so I'll just recreate the first leg in detail while trying my best to faithfully recapture the rest of the legs, just to give your the overall vibe of the race at that given moment.

And so it begins... .(cue Olympic music)Land of the Lost and a budding loveteam
Beep Beep was our leadoff guy, probably the strongest sprinter on the team. A former Palarong Pambansa standout, we were banking on a solid opening salvo from him to help set the tone for the rest of the race. From the time that the opening gun was fired, we could see that he was already neck and neck with Kenyan supergal Susan from Team Runnerspeak. So off they went, and we merrily went back to our vans.

As we were heading to the van exchange point at the Pawikan Center (serves as the halfway mark of all three main sections of the race) , we noticed one big problem. The guy from "Team Roundsprint" was actually ahead. And the rotund Ponstan team captain was in 2nd! How could that be? How could they outrun a Kenyan and a 39 minute 10k dude? It could only mean one thing... .

It simply meant that they were... .

Apparently, they were so fast that they missed the turn. Quite mind boggling that the lead pack didn't have any escort to guide them. That's just so crazy. Anyway, Beep ended up going all the way back to the start line, and i think he finished his 5k in 35 minutes. By the time the dust has settled we were in 2nd place, our psyche reeling from this unexpected setback.

The Furious Chase Once Mark/Indorock was up for his leg, it didn't take long for the speedy trackster to bridge the gap between us and the first placers. Cheers abound in our van. Now the hard part. Roy, Bryan and Brando had their work cut out for themselves as they not only had to keep pace to hold off the 3rd placers, in the race for 1st place they were matched up against Cyborg-like counterparts on some of the most difficult terrain in the race. Brando was near exhaustion, and asserted that his stretched out, ridiculously incline-filled course was the hardest 8k of his life.

Early hero Indorock attempts a furious comeback

The Brothers Rivera put up a gallant stand

Brando was so tired that he wanted to go home, selling "scramble" for bus fare
Mark Hernz was up next. Was a short 4.4 k route, but his inclines would have put St. Martin to shame. In spite of the searing heat and technical difficulty of his leg, he gutted it,clocking in a solid effort in the process.

Mark gutting out the punishing inclines
Leg 7. My turn. By the time the baton (er, slapstick) was handed over to me, a 2km deficit was staring me in the face. What fun. I was amped beyond belief. The long wait at the Leg 5 van exchange point had somehow sapped my energy, notwithstanding the fact that we were working from behind.

Nervous dude right here
The amiable guy from the leading team (who even wore pink, I reckon in a sign of allegiance?) even gave me a high-five as he trotted out 10 minutes ahead of me. Once the exchange process was done, I was a man on a mission. Leg description was Recreational to Intermediate. Niiice. With adrenalin pumping, I rushed through the initial, extremely downhill stretch at about a 3:30 pace throwing caution to the wind. This lasted for all of 300 meters. Then I was stopped dead in my tracks. Suddenly, the downhills were gone, and was replaced with a slow, excruciating 6k uphill climb with lush foliage that made it very hard to breathe. Nothing Recreational about this. Cars were spewing smoke at you, and crabby doggies wanted to get a piece of you.

To those who are part of my Adidas Adination Ortigas team, the St. Paul- St. Martin Combo is about 1k not counting the downhill. So think doing 6k worth of that while trying desperately to hold 5:00 pace. I could have sworn I was hyperventilating. Pace was dropping by the nanosecond. By the time I reached the 6k mark, total pace had dropped all the way to 5:57 already. Eek.

Thankfully, what goes up, goes down. I'd like to think that all the uphill training I do had some sort of residual effect. At the risk of blowing my quads, I ran the final steep downhill stretch with everything I had at that point, crushing the asphalt at 3:45 - 3:50 pace. I was red-lining it. I HAD to make up for lost time. We HAD to get back first place.

Have... to get... . first place... .

All of a sudden, with about 1k to go, I saw the leading team's dude laboring heavily. I was ecstatic!! 1st PLACE WAS IN SIGHT!

He got tired
In hindsight, I was thinking his heavyset core typical of gym habitues would give out with those extreme inclines at some point.And it did. Blazing at a pace that I could never ever sustain without the concept of team dynamic in play, I passed him! 1st place was ours!!! The rush was unbelievable and unforgettable. As I passed the support van, I was screaming "WE'RE BACK IN FIRST!!! WE'RE BACK IN FIRST!!!" I think I heard Abby screaming in the van as well . Lol.

Now, there was so much momentum gained that I even sprinted the incline near the 10k mark. 10k mark passes. Gulp. No exchange tent! I was burning out pretty fast. Then all of a sudden, my extremities were going numb. It was going upwards already. My hands then started to involuntarily shake. OMG. I was freaking out. What the heck was happening to me? Still nothing. I was panting like a rabid dog in heat. Where was the tent??? Finally, 750 meters later it was there. I rushed , signed in, handed the slaptstick over to a totally juiced Jai, and he was off! TPB in the lead!!!! The team met me with raucous cheers. I was completely exhausted, but super happy. Given that running is an individual sport, having to do team time trials was awesome. We left the leg in high spirits, knowing that I just handed over the lead to one of the strongest runners on our team.

Happy but wasted guyLegs 8 and 9 went by like a blur. Speedy Jai was still fresh from his 3rd place finish at the TBR Dream Marathon, so the guy was in awesome shape. He turned the slight lead I gave him into a significant advantage, and powerful Ronnel padded more to it as the race was starting to drag on into the night.

Dynamic Duo powers into the night.By the time Ka Totoy came up, it was pitch dark already. Being our undisputed anchor and the closest thing to an elite runner on the team, we gave "The Legend" our most difficult leg - the dreaded 6km climb up to Mount Samat. His performance was simply scintillating. He left our mouths wide agape while tackling Kennon Road-level inclines at an unthinkable 5:30 pace. If I had done the same route, I probably would have walked. Being the consummate pro that he is, there were times that he would even wave us off, telling us to wait ahead of him. Running a ridiculous incline in pitch black darkness takes some cajones, and he taught all of us right then and there a thing or two about guts.

From the eyes of a legend... .

The scene that unfolded after seemed like it was taken straight from a movie script. As fast as Ka Totoy was chipping away at the mountain, a rampaging juggernaut was hot on his heels. The strongest Kenyan runner of Team Runnerspeak was blasting away at our nearly 30 minute advantage on them, and before we knew it, they were in 2nd place. Just FYI, this was the Kenyan dude who won Rock and Run 10k, and he runs a 15 minute 5k just to put things into perspective.

In a moment of sheer drama, the Kenyan came within 100 meters of Ka Totoy as he hit the runner exchange point. One last dramatic grasp, and the lead was turned over to Beep Beep who started sprinting like a madman for the start of the next rotation, his lady love Susan in hot pursuit. Incredible effort on the Kenyan's part, and pretty much all of us had a greater appreciation for "The Legend's" incredible running moxie after that sublime effort.

Cooling down after a performance for the ages
Whew. What an Epic! And guess what? We're only a third of the way!

But I'll have to stop there.

Because it was at this point that from a genuinely enjoyable race, everything seemed to connive against our success. Among others, I'd rather not discuss how I was stopped right smack in the middle of my 2nd leg ostensibly for "fast forward purposes" along with a totally moronic penalty by a high strung race director who wouldn't give the time of day to any opinion apart from his own.

I don't want to come out with unhappy memories out of this remarkable experience. I'd rather remember Beep and Susan's epic battle racing at 3:00/km pace down the insanely steep downhill of Mt. Samat in total darkness. Or how Brando valiantly tried to fend off "Cyborg" when he just popped out of the darkness. Or how Bryan's tremendous managerial skills established a semblance of order in our team.

One last comeback left in us... .

In a team full of competitive runners who usually duke it out over the weekends, I am proud of how the team came together to overcome adversity in making a concerted effort to go down on our shields with honor. I'll never forget screaming my lungs out when the team pounded out a last-ditch comeback effort, gutting out minute by painstaking minute culminating in Ronnel reclaiming the lead for TPB at leg 29. Truly, you can't make this stuff up. In spite of everything, we still had a chance to win it all at the very last leg. I have misty memories of how Ka Totoy, his body wracked in intense pain and battling 37-degree heat, ran with his heart on the pavement in overtaking the game PNP runner for 2nd place on the very last kilometer.

All for glory...

Because you see, this race meant much more to us than the figurative silver (thanks Mark Mulder) that we weren't even acknowledged for. It was more than the P360 finishers shirt, the P20 Pocari Sweat and P50 picture that awaited you at the line.

It went beyond winning or losing. It was about sticking to our guns when the going got beyond tough. It dealt with working within the rules even if they were seemingly be made to be broken. It was about getting back up and giving it your all after you've been kicked down incessantly to the curb.

Respect. Sportsmanship. Camaraderie. Ain't that what it's all about?

It's been a completely seminal experience for me. It's changed me in a lot of ways too.

To Beep, Mulder, Roy, Brando, Bry, Mark, Jai, Ronnel and Ka Totoy, it was my distinct honor to have raced with you guys.

To our wonderful support team Abby, Maan, Bea, and Doc Eire - thank you so much for sticking by us and sticking for us.

I am very proud of each and every one of you. I'm proud of TPB and what we stand for.

Because no matter what had happened in those fateful 23 hours...

I wouldn't have had it any other way.

TPB 2010 Baby!

Philippine Blog Awards Verification Text - PBA096339qor
Chateau Gingerbread, 6:30 pm

Gingerbreadman rushes inside his house on pins and needles, a late-ending event at his office coupled with the maddening rush of the sundown traffic resulting in twenty minutes worth of tardiness. The helpers are stirred by his spastic entrance, the elder Ginger folk jostled by the abruptness of his appearance. A week-long bout with the chills had the elders admonishing him at the mere mention of a run, urging him to err on the side of caution lest he meet the same fate of the 7 other victims from his alma mater.

Gingerbread Grandpa : Are you crazy? You are sick! Sick I say! You need to rest! And besides, it's raining!

GBM: It's not raining. That's the blender.
Gingerbread Grandma: Just stay home hijo I will make you some Spam and Eggs
GBM : Yum. How healthy. What's your BP again?
Gingerbread Doggie : Woof! Wooooof! Bark! Yelp! (Translation : I could care less if you're sick, but could I have the Spam and Eggs instead?)
GBM: How thoughtful. Now knock it off or I'll have you neutered.
Gingerbread Gal (via SMS) : Please don't go... . you're sick... .. I'll be sooo worried :( Don't go ...
GBM: Aww how sweet. Okay, because you deserve nothing less. I'll... text you when I get home! Xoxo!

Unflinching in his resolve to run despite the chorus of incessant protests received from the immediate brood, GBM nonchalantly went through a whirlwind version of his pre-run ritual. I'll be late for my own freaking run. How embarassing. Oh great the newbie guy texted, he's there already. I don't feel good at all, but what the heck. I'll just run it off. Someone please get the doggie off my leg!

Mcdonald's Pearl Drive, 6:50 pm

20 minutes late and counting . As he rushed into the world's #1 purveyor of high cholesterol, an unfamiliar face was waiting amongst the early dinner throng. Niceties are exchanged. Pio was the name. HR Consultancy was his game. On and off runner since 2005 with a max of 5k in a race. Even as running pals Rico and Bong Yu emerged from the woodwork, GBM could not help but wonder how the newbie could survive the projected 22k route. If he collapses, would that be on me? He looks like he has insurance... Hmmm... . Or better yet I could just blame Rico and Bong... .

GBM was jolted from calculating the ramifications of death via newbie when running buddy/risk manager Rico tapped him on the shoulder, reminding him of unfulfilled promises... .

Rico : Hey, where's my prize? GBM : What prize?Rico : You know, that Levi's Unbuttoned Contest thing you had going... .
GBM : Oh yeah, that!

Rico : I won you know... ..

GBM : Oh... ... .. Yeahhhh... ... . Umm, I left it in the office... ..

Rico : Excuses excuses, is this even a real contest?

GBM: Of course it is!

Rico: Looks like a cheap advertising gimmick to me!

GBM : Nooo... it's true! I just left it in my desk! I prooomisee!

Rico : Is it true that you rigged it so I could win?

GBM: Next question please... .

With everything in order, the group set out on their mission - a 22k LSD that would be the first step in their mileage building process for some, a huge running milestone for another.

And so it begins

Km 1.5 - Gold Loop Ortigas

The group was just getting into the groove along the busy alleyways of the Gold Loop that circumvents Pearl Drive. Along the way, GBM had to endure the hopefully friendly jeers of students reveling in his demystified state, his short shorts the complete antithesis of his formal,barong-clad persona. As they were about to hit the route where a squatters settlement was rumored to be intentionally razed, the foursome met triathlete Javy, of Tri'n Hard fame . On the last legs of his route, the affable road warrior shared a quip or two while traversing a single loop, his preparations for the upcoming Animo Tri nearing its peak. With the next leg beckoning, goodbyes were exchanged as the group was steeling itself for the pounding ahead.

Chillin' with Tri'n Hard

Km 4, Julia Vargas Ave

My name is Bong and I work in One San Miguel. Why I come along to these runs, I have no idea. I'm none too shabby a runner myself, I'm a 57 10k dude. I'm just too modest to tell anyone about it. But I wanna take it to the next level. I want to bring that speed to the longer distances. Maybe that's why I'm here. Boy, Julia Vargas sure is dark at night. Is the newbie still alive? He's nice. If something goes wrong, I'll just blame GBM. He organized the whole thing anyway. Why is he pacing us like a madman? Is he mad at us? Why is he subjecting us to this sort of punishment. Oh yeah, we requested this pace. Me and my big mouth. Ow! He almost got run over. What a psycho. Not the car. GBM! Why does he like running in the middle of the street? And he's taking pictures! Is that part of the training? Psycho.

Julia Vargas is fun at night
Km 6, St. Martin Hills

Pio is the name and HR is my game. Running? Getting there. So why am I here? Hey I'm down for anything. These guys are so fast. What's this tempo thing they're doing. Runner terminology. Ptooey. One day I'll drop one of these on an unsuspecting newbie. But for now I'm the newbie. I'll take my lumps. And... . oh lord what's with these people??? Are we seriously going to climb this hill? I take this on 1st gear with my car!!! What Psychos! Whaa... . *pant* *gasp*

Daunting indeed.

Km 7.5, Motel/Baby Gravy Drive

I'm known in running circles as Sheer Will. You know, the famous (ahem) blogger/ quintessential nice guy/kuya figure ? My closer friends call me Rico. People who make me feel old call me Boss Rico. People who don't know me at all ask me if I'm the basketball player from Ateneo. Yes, my name is Enrico Villanueva. No I am not the basketball player from Ateneo. Yeah, if I was 6"5 I would be dating celebrities and sipping iced tea at Manila Polo instead of killing myself here with these shmucks. If I lose a little more weight, maybe I could go back into my old life as a commercial model and just ditch this running thing altogether. So here we are, Motel Drive. So many happy memories here. Sigh. What? P520 for a room??? Are they insane?? During my time it was just P180! With electric fan and free soap already! Geez! What a ripoff! And they have hand signals now? Whaaa? What debauchery!Hey, these uphills are getting easier by the day. Maybe it's the view. I should train here more often.

Them hand signals are the best thing since Google

Km 12, C5. GBM.

Wow, it's amazing that the guys are still going strong. They asked for a sub-7 pace to get used to the Milo cutoff . We're running a 6:45 right now. Bong and Rico should get used to this in no time. I'm starting to feel woozy. Maybe I should have listened to the old people. Oh lord I tripped. Thank God no one saw me. Wa-poise! Is Pio still alive? Oh he's right behind me. Check! How does he manage? I'm in awe. Is he pulling a Tito Caloy right here? (To you reading this right now - yeah I'm talking to you and breaking the 4th wall right here - FYI Tito Caloy went from a 5k race to a 27k LSD. Just to put things into context.) It should be over soon... . cough. Cough. COUGH.

We should have just stayed in Motel Drive!

Need... replenishment... Sprite ... . Sprite?

Km 14, C5. Pio.

Gasp. I'm tired. But I need to show these kids a thing or two! This is one newbie that doesn't have quit in him! Do you read my singlet? 2005 baby! 2005! Respect! Although I haven't ran another race since. Still! Gasp. We're still fast. I am starting to dislike this Gingerbread character by the minute. I can't breathe! Must.. push ... . on! These guys are nuts!

2009 rendition of Edvard Munch's "The Scream"

Km 15, C5. Just after Eastwood. Rico.

Where the crap are we going? Why aren't we stopping? Where's the @#$% u-turn? I am starting to dislike this Gingerbread character. I'm tiiiiiired!

By Sheer Will he pushes on

Km 16, Turnaround Point. Bong.

Hoy! Malayo pa ba????? ( translation : Are we there yet?? Where the crap are we going??)

Shaider has a new hobby

Km 17, start of C5 turnaround point

The group has persisted on, GBM maintaining a sub 7 pace as they neared the 20 km mark. Traversing the narrow streets of Libis, they could see that their pacer was noticeably slowing down. Maybe it's his positive split thing catching up with him. But upon reaching the Jollibee branch near Acropolis for a much needed rest, they could see his eyes were glassy. He didn't look alright. Something was up. We can cut short the route man. The warm gesture was waved off with no hesitation. We came here with a goal, and we need to meet it. Deciding that the wide open streets bordering Green Meadows were a better alternative to the life-or-death game they were playing in C5, the steely foursome soldiered on.

Km 19, Green Meadows. GBM.

Crap. Now I'm really not feeling well. They will positively roast me when I get home. I can't pace anymore. Heck I can barely run anymore. I'm really dizzy. But to pace and then to quit... . I wouldn't take that. I invited them here, with a goal in mind. We need to meet that. We need to develop that warrior mentality. A fever will not kill me. At least not today.

Km 21, St. Martin Hills, 2nd Loop.

The group was ecstatic. Pio had just successfully completed his first unofficial half-marathon. He had pulled off a Tito Caloy with what seemed to be an effortless run. It's the very thrill of going past one's limits, or helping others get there, that keep runners coming back for more. GBM looked to be in horrid shape. The guy needs to rest. Psycho. A last push up the St. Paul incline and the group called it day. 22 .2 kilometers total. Whew. Longest run for Pio. Longest LSD for Bong as well. Covering GBM's weekly long run route ain't so bad after all.

Who da man? Who da man?

And the Rookie of the Year goes to.. .

Epilogue, Pearl Drive.
The goal met, the group retreated to Chiggy's Pearl Drive for some scrumptious after-run grub. GBM and Bong had Jumbo Liempo. Rico had Bulgoggi. Although completely unnecessary , man of the hour Pio footed the bill, a seeming rite of passage for a guy who had just defied all expectations by doing a Tito Caloy.Friendly banter. Humorous Anecdotes. A life's worth of running memories being built right there.

Yummy Liempo Place

Enjoying some after-run foodies
As the final piece of jumbo (they weren't kidding) liempo was consumed, there was one prevailing sentiment amongst the group.

This was fun... ..

And... ...

We should do it again.

Powerpuff Boys. Smirk. What kind of fruity name is that? Sounds like a local counterpart to the Chippendales. Or a new incarnation of the Masculados. But don't be misled by the name though. From the ashes of controversy, the so-called "Pink Army" has arrived, and there's certainly nothing dainty about them.

Pretty in Pink?
Pardon the hyperbole, I'm really just amped. After months and months of incessant planning and lineup changes, TPB has finally come to fruition. Featuring 10 runners all hailing from different cities ( fun fact, it may win you a t-shirt one day), the final roster for our Chris Sports Epic Relay 250 team is finally complete.

Pink would have been horrible on these Masculados

To the uninitiated, the Chris Sports Epic Relay 250 is based off the hugely popular Ragnar Relay Series in the United States. Your team is divided into two vans for an overnight relay race that traverses picturesque terrain spanning Subic, Bataan and Zambales, with the 10 team members running three legs of anywhere from 5-12 kms each.

What fun!
Now, we never realized how hard it was to snag 10 dudes paying P1,200 each for less than a combined 30 kilometers. There was a time that the only definitive members on our lineup were team captain Bryan Rivera, myself, and highly respected veteran Graciano "Ka Totoy" Santos. Thankfully, everything just fell into place at the right time, and we are happy to put together a team that does justice to pink. Okay fine, its fuschia.

Here's the current lineup as well as some snippets about the members :

Graciano "Ka Totoy" Santos

He's like our Obi-Wan-Kinobi. The grizzled master never hesitates to give valuable training advice to us noobs. Ka Totoy also abhors any form of alcohol to keep in shape all year round, and his eyebrows could give Isko Moreno's a run for their money.

Bryan "Runner-S" Rivera

Our undisputed team captain. One of the most improved runners over the past year, he has shown incredible tenacity both on and off the road. His organizational and leadership skills are unparalleled as well, and when the time comes that I'm a millionaire already, he'll be the first one I'll call to run my businesses. Throws a mean frisbee too. Is way sexier than Right Said Fred, putting the "S" in "Runner-S".

Mark "Beep Beep" Rodica

The former volleyball star-turned-trackster has a penchant for short shorts, snappy one-liners and even snappier 10k times. Judging by his picture, you could see that he's a very serious guy.

Mark" Indorock" Mulder

This Holland native has been a ball of positive energy for the team. A relatively late addition, this cool, methodical dude now sports a new Glee-inspired do'. The brains behind Manila Road Runners, he is a master at deciphering Tagalog words through context clues and sign language. Shame on his inconsiderate teammates. Er, oops.

Ronnel "Kampuger" Go

Although most people will probably never know what a "Kampuger" is in their lifetime ( I don't know what it is either, and I don't wanna know), this amiable, wise-cracking fella can hang with the best of them. As you can see by his photo, he also has a bit of a Rudolf Nureyev in him.
Roy "Kuya" Rivera

Ultra-fit Roy is Bryan's older brother, although at first we thought that it was the other way around. This laid-back, music loving, ultra-fit vegan doesn't concern himself with km splits and pace, he prefers to be lost in the moment and stays away from the extra pressure. He is the founder of the "SBMA Traffic Enforcer" fanpage on Facebook.

Mark "MarkHernz" Hernandez

This model-turned- resilient-ultramarathoner is an all-around athlete who seems to excel at whatever sport he tries his hand on. Totally dedicated hubby (sorry gals) who once ran a 3:30 split for a 10k... . during the first 200 meters. He got very tired soon thereafter. Suffice to say, he never did that again.

Jairuz "Jai-Ho" Agang-ang

A man of few words, he lets his running do the talking. We somehow cajoled him into putting "Jai-Ho" on his uniform. (LSS mode) His unassuming manner belies his competitive nature on the road. He is very inspired right now, nuff said.

Brando "Ace" Losaria

This wisecracking ball of perpetual energy often has the team in stitches, and "Photobrando" takes somes of the most beautiful race shots I have seen. This hard-training raceday habitue has also been touted as a cuter, "funner" version of a certain former Streetboy. His long term goal is to run a 2:30/km pace someday.

And that's the team folks! Oh grr, do I really have to add myself?

I like taking long walks on the beach, Mcdo Fried and Nuggets, I have two dogs named Strowganoff and Piolow, and the grade of my contact lenses is -350. Oh, and I have a girlfriend who can run 102 kilometers faster than me. Sob.

Me and my well-pedigreed support crew

On the eve of our impending battle, I conclude this article amidst a cacophony of sighs and snores from our snug Subic hotel, hopeful and excited about the events that are about to unfold in the next couple of hours. Thanks for all the support and well-wishes that you have given us, we truly appreciate it.

Now let the dance begin... ..

Dear Piolow,

It's been awhile. How are you? Hope the new teleserye is doing well. Also, I resent those rumors stating that you were found dead in some crazy hotel room abroad. Sigh, the trappings of showbiz eh? Anyway, I'll keep this short and sweet.

You still da man

A few weeks back, I ran the San Mig Coffee Bay Run 10k organized by Leadpack. It wasn't your typical MOA race, because the route actually cut through Roxas Blvd so you're not relegated to doing uber boring loops. Turnout was good, the temp very humid. Course was as close to linear as possible, which made for ideal conditions.

As you know, I have been haunted incessantly by my long-standing goal of finally beating your 10k time. It gnaws at the very core of my proud Gingerbread competitive streak. I have been running countless 10k's since I recovered from a 102k- induced ITB injury in a bid to finally get the Sub-Piolow monkey off my back. I thought this race just might be it.
The first 5k, I was pacing with this Kenyan chick. By the way, I didn't know she was a chick until after she took the podium for 3rd place in the women's category. My bad. Anyway, she finally broke free at the halfway mark, she just operates at a completely higher level. Huffing and puffing, I waved at some friends who were marshalling and was sort of fading until I ran into your buddy and coverboy partner Coach Rio (should I start calling him Riow?) who was blazing his way in the 15k category.

I attempted to frantically chase after him ; alas, the lechon that I had devoured at the wedding I had attended the day before significantly lessened the aerodynamics of my bilbil.

Lechon = Epic Fail

As I was approaching the line, my breathing wore harder. It was a typical Gingerbread positive split crash. But then something just snapped inside of me. I thought, enough was enough. I just need to suck it up and forget the pain. Pain now, glory later. With one last heave, I crossed the line at 47:01!!! It was like time stopped, even for just a nanosecond. Everything seemed to be moving in slow-motion. I was ecstatic. No words could express it. It was much akin to what these guys were going through -

I was finally free of the Sub-Piolow monkey. I could actually go on with my life now. Thanks for nearly one year of fun memories that you have provided me as I went about this quest, the so-called "holy-grail" of the 10k runner. Congratulations, it's a pop culture thing now. If I ever get nominated for a Philippine Blog Award again, I will dedicate it to you. And if people start calling you "Piolow" for some crazy reason, er, um, uuh, dont blame me (@,@).

The finish was good for 10th place in the men's division 10k. Niiiiice. I was inspired no doubt. In fact, I was so happy that I got out and got myself a Pomeranian puppy courtesy of the world-class Perico Kennel.

Cute noh?

And guess what his name is?

Yep. Cute puppy's name is... ... Piolow :)

Thanks for everything, and I hope to see you at an Ironman soon.

Still Your #1 Fan,

GBM

So the rain finally went away. Sigh. Would it be a good day today? Those thoughts crossed my head as I woke up at 3 am, anxiously anticipating the upcoming events of the day. I haven't run a 10k in awhile, and I would be trying to beat my PR for the distance. What was on today's race menu? The highly-anticipated Mizuno Infinity Run, touted by some to be even bigger than the industry benchmark Condura Run. Did it live up to the hype? Let us see for ourselves as the events of the day unfold.

Emeperador - 1, Tito Caloy - 0

The day started with a text message from running buddy/part-time uncle/full-time tomador Tito Caloy. In essence, he had gone drinking and obviously couldn't join the race. Oh great. That's 300 bucks lost off the bat. If he ever pays me, I'll treat you guys for taho. Promise! (don't keep your hopes up). So I ventured off to BHS alone, the silence of the sleepy metropolis an unwilling replacement to Tito Caloy's incessant pre-dawn chatter. I got there relatively early for the 10k check-in, rambling thoughts passing through my head as my anxiety level was rising by the minute.Oh man I'm alone. No one's here yet. Hey is that... . okay maybe not. Hmm they said it would be bigger than Condura? Maybe? Tito Caloy exchanged me for alcohol. I'm sleepy. Why do people wake up this early anyway? He'll never pay me. Wow they moved classes to the 22nd. I don't like this swine flu thing at all. Are people in this world really evil? Can I break my PR? I'm hungry and... The requisite hi/ hello/good luck from Takbo.ph regulars Edu and Rodel jarred me back into consciousness. By this time, the rest of the Takbo.ph gang began to file in. Nearly all of them were running the 15k. Looks like I would be waging another solitary battle here. As the 15k gun went off, the 30 minute countdown towards the 10k start seemed like an eternity. By virtue of me being really early, I was somehow stationed right in the front of the corral, a circumstantial, undeserved spot to say the least. Ansty and nervous at the same time, I attempted to strike some sort of coherent conversation with the runner next to me. Here' s the honest-to-goodness accurate transript of our conversation : Me: "Sir, buti tumigil ung ulan no?"Runner X : "Nga eh." Me: "Um, ano sir ung target ninyo ngayon?" Runner X: " Mga 40, ok na." Me: "Um, aaaah good luck sir! "Running on Empty While that went well, the gun went off. I was in 70's mode for the entire week, so the leadoff song on my iPod was Sumayaw Sumunod. While disco was blaring in my ears, I assessed how I would be approaching this. If the prevailing goal was to break 50 minutes, I would have to work around the 4:30 zone. With a mere 20 km worth of mileage this week, that ain't happening. I started out at 4:29, hitting 5:03 at the 3k mark. I was feeling gassed. Lack of mileage right there. I should buy a treadmill. Or be a member at these fancy gyms so I could use one.Anyway, at the Kalayaan Flyover I ran into Boggs, one of our students from UA&P and a speedy T2 regular. I asked hm what his target was, the response was sub-50. Can I pace with you? The answer was in the affirmative. 2km later he was about 400m from me already. I was zapped. Not happening. Not today. Nice kid though. You'd like him too. The Alchemy of Blood, Guts, and Condura Memories Past the turnaround point and going back up the Kalayaan Flyover, the route quickly evoked memories of the Condura Run. My first major race ever. I remember walking up the steep gradient of the killer flyover. I remembered wanting to quit. I remembered just plain quitting, the heat overpowering my psyche. This is so stupid. Maybe I can just go back to playing poker. At least I'll earn some cash. It's sooooo hot. My feet are killing me. Ayoko na. But if I quit now, I'll never live it down. So I soldiered on. I remembered digging deep within myself just to finish.The pain in my legs was excruciating . I was running on empty. I could hardly breathe. As I was fast fading at that very same flyover last Sunday, those powerful memories were flashing through my head at warp speed. Was I biting off more than I could chew? Am I way over my head in doing this? Does competitiveness have its limits? Is it a sin to strive to be the best at each and every thing you do? Fight or Flight My legs were on fire, the lungs all but out of it. I wanted to give up. But as I descended the Kalayaan Flyover while struggling my way into a 5:50 split, I realized that I only had about 3-4 km to go. Only 3-4 km of pain and sacrifice to go. I thought, just survive a couple more minutes of total exhaustion and you'll feel terrific about exorcising your demons for the rest of the week. I think that right there is the microcosm of "push" - when your body has absolutely nothing more to give and you unabashedly ask it to give more than it ever had.I ran that last 2km stretch, that very same area where I had walked not too long ago, like my life depended on it. I take pride in putting a premium on passion in my everyday travails, in leaving your heart out there on the playing field. It's fight or flight, and I chose to fight. Before I knew it, I could see the chute. Powerful Takbo.ph big man Mond passed me over the final 400m, I could give no more. But even as my body gave out its last hurrah, the clock glanced 51:30. Oh my. I had did it. Getting to the end of the chute, my 305 stopped at 51:38. I pumped my fist and was overjoyed at a blood and guts victory over the most daunting opponent of all.The Aftermath Truly, the whole team was blessed that day. Nearly everyone I talked with set a new PR. Among others, head honcho Jinoe took a new 15k PR, and Bong Z. hit his sub 55 target. I'm so happy because everyone is rapidly improving across the board. As with most of the runners, we were pleasantly surprised to receive a finisher's singlet instead of the advertised shirt. And it fits! In addition, Mizuno saved the biggest surprise for last, announcing that the race was actually a time trial in preparation for next year's event dubbed 1.10.10. The winners would be contingent on how much one had improved from this year's time. Truly, another coup from Mizuno, one that we would all be eagerly awaiting. Afterwards, the group went straight to Mcdonald's Net One for some much needed refueling, the place slowly becoming our favorite post-race BHS breakfast jaunt.

A sea of White, Black, Yellow, Blue... . and Orange?

Ellen and Doc Roy with Migz lurking

Natz, Doc Lyndon and Rico

Matinee idol/speedster Bong with Pepsi and Ms. Morrison

The "Hard Core" Takbo.ph team

Me with Second Wind proprietor/ultramarathoner Hector

Running Couple Neil and Rach at Mcdo Net One

Chillin' out after a messy Mcdo Breakfast So there. When all things were said and done, numerous PR's fell, sunny skies and even sunnier smiles abound. Despite the anxiety and sacrifice, despite the blood and guts spilled on the road and the overpowering urge to quit when you were beaten down to the ground... ... It turned out to be a good day after all. Tito Caloy Quote of The Day :

" Di ako makakasama sayo, ako'y niyaya, napilitan, napainom, napasubo" - On choosing Emperador over Mizuno

The soothing line of the Carpenters classic reverbrated through my mind as I drove out Sunday morning. The rain was steadily pouring over the pavement as I pulled out of my condo, the pre-dawn serenity of a Sunday morning punctuated by the incessant rain. I was thinking, will the run be cancelled? Then I realized the amount of preparations that are put into organizing a race. Moving it would be tantamount to a logistical nightmare. So I figured, the show must go on!

On Rainy Races and Alcohol-Free Uncles I picked up Erick at Shaw Blvd, about 5 mins from my place. We picked up a groggy and thankfully not drunk Tito Caloy a few minutes later. Apparently, he had begged off from an inuman party with the kumpadres the night before just to prepare for the race. Absconding from free beer? Now that's what you call dedication! So the three of us were talking shop as we reached Mckinley at 5:15, 15 minutes before the announced race time. There was some confusion as to where the parking area was, so we had to ask around. Two marshals, one sleepy guard, and one crabby guard later we ended up in the open parking area. Note to self : 15 minutes to race time! Hurry! Warm-up running in the rain towards the starting line, I saw that the race was still surprisingly well-attended despite the inclement weather. I saw Takbo.ph gals Cherry and Ross walking around, pointed us to where the team was hanging out. The usual suspects were there, along with a morose-looking Sam akaThe Running Ninja in blogging parlance. I thought he was intensely focused on his strategy, little did I know that he had run over someone the night before. Hang in there buddy, things will be resolved soon. Takeshi's Castle Fun Times The organizers soon announced that the race would be starting at 6 am, or 30 minutes later than the announced time because of the weather. Tito Caloy was wondering if it would push through, a 16k virgin's typical anxiety in play. I nodded somewhat unattentively, my wandering thoughts fixated on my strategy for the race as the "peloton" of 3k, 5k, and 16k were gathered en masse for a common start. 10 miles. 16 something kilometers. It's my first time to tackle the distance, first crack at the famed Mckinkley Hills. I have no idea if my pace would hold here. I feel like I'm out of shape. I lack mileage this week. I should stop working and just run. Okay maybe not. This kid next to me is really loud. Did I bring enough money to eat later? Oh crap I left my camera in the car. No pix for the blog then. But then again if I brought the camera, where would I put it? What's the true meaning of love? It's starting to rain... oh great it's pretty hard ... . my Garmin's gonna get soaked... .. Wow I feel like I'm in the Takeshi's Castle starting grid... . Oh great here we go... The starting gun jolted me back into reality. Suffice to say, it was a riot. Bundling together the 16k runners with the 3k and 5k runners wasn't the high point of an otherwise well-organized race. Truly, the Takeshi's Castle analogy was not far-fetched. It was virtual bedlam. I think that the fact that the rain started to pour a few seconds before the starting gun went off contributed to a rock-concert like atmosphere, which in turn elevated the adrenalin levels of pretty much everyone. Not only did I have to contend with the rain and the slippery road, I also had to deal with rowdy kids who were jumping (yeah, jumping) on the road. By the time I had extricated myself from that mess, I figured I had lost about 10-15 seconds worth of pacing. Prior to the race, I had no idea what was a good target time for 16k . Coach Pojie said a 1:30 would be nice. Personally, I thought it was a stretch given my propensity to fade late. But I took solace in the training runs I've had lately, so might as well give it a shot. The first kilometer registered 4:53 on my 305. Right on schedule! For 10k's my preferred opening would be a 4:30, but into the great unknown that was the 10-miler, I was guessing the aformentioned pace would be sufficient. At the 3km mark , I began to pace with Docs Eric and Pinky. Doc Eric is a sub- 2 hour 21k runner, one of the strongest in the group. I thought it would be prudent to pace with him, at least get myself acquainted with the level that I am training for. Doc Pinky was actually pacing faster than us, and it turned out she was competing in the 5k. Her breakneck pace was good enough for a 5th place podium finish wohoo :) Congrats Doc Pinky, terrific run. So me and Doc Eric ran together until the 9k mark. The hills were harder than I expected. The course was living up to its billing. I accelerated in one of the steeper extended regions heading to the Heritage Park region, and once again I was alone. There were numerous water stations available, and I crossed the 10k mark at 53:50, just 10 seconds off my 10k PR. I thought to myself, I have a real shot at this. Just keep your head in it. As I sprinted downhill towards the 11k turnaround point, the daunting uphill climb to my left was a grim reminder of the tribulations up ahead. So this is what Sisyphus must have felt like Let's just put it this way. If you have no hill training at all, kiss your PR goals goodbye for this course. The return uphill stretch went for something like 3 km. My pace went down from 5:25 to 5:30. Soon Doc Eric caught up with me, a friendly face ready to boost me up in what seemed like an endless uphill battle. Even when I thought it had ended, it was still haunting me.My hammies rather. Finally, we had started our reentry into the Mckinley area proper. 4k to go! The Garmin showed us at 1 hour something! Wow! We have a real shot! Doc Eric told me that we should just go for it, and we did. We were sprinting the last 4k at a 5:05 - 5:10 pace. I made the mistake of going LT on the 15th kilometer, and I faded a little towards the end. I also saw amiable Happy Feet/Takbo.ph habitue Mon towards the homestretch, last saw him during our Baguio run. When all things were said and done, I happily crossed the line at 1:26:03, 4 minutes below my target! Final pace was 5:32., about 20 seconds behind locomotive-like Doc Eric. I was so happy, because I realized that if I maintain that pace for at least 5k more, I could do a sub -2 hour 21k! That's my secret (well not anymore) dream! Yeah! As the group congregated, the rest of the gang started to pile in. Sam came in injury-free at 1:40. Speedy, comebacking Migz got 1:32, his first since his injury. "Wala ako sa kundisyon" Erick got a strong 1:30 finish, a testament to his run-walk strategy. Tito Caloy logged in at an estimated 1:50, a wonderful time for the 50-year old 16k Virgin. Wilnar, Girley, and as mentioned earlier Doc Pinky took podium finishes in their respective categories. Overall, was a good day for the team! Afterwards, the factions of the group met at Mcdonald's Net One for a wonderful post-race celebration of sorts. Lots of photos, laughs, and goofing around :)

All's well at Earth Run

Doc T wins!

Wilnar's 5th place finish for the 5k

Coach wins too!

Rico aka Sheer Will with his "medal"

Girley aka Pepsi with the real thing So with all things said and done, suffice to say do rainy days and Sundays always get me down? With runs and friends like these, not really :) Tito Caloy Quote of the Day :

"Napasarap ung kwento ko dun sa mag-asawa, naligaw tuloy ako!" - On following Neil and Rach to the 5k route

What? Jeans? Why we talking about jeans? We're runners !But hey, we can't go prancing around in our singlets and compression shorts all the time right? We have our "real" lives to attend to as well, where we wear "real" clothes. And besides, since this blog is touted to put forth random musings on life and running, here's the "life" part for you :) As runners, we're always tasked to take on a greater, higher cause during races. More often than not, our runs pertain to helping the environment - Earth Run, Takbo para sa Kalikasan, et.al. And what's a better way to continue advocating these causes than by showcasing them through our everyday wear? If that got you thinking, then the eco-friendly Levi's 501 Organic Jeans is worth a second look.

In celebration of the annual Levi’s® 501® Day on May 1st, the Levi’s® brand is launching a special edition jean inspired by its classic and definitive 1947 design and made from 100% organic cotton. Shrink-to-fit and tailored from selvedge fabric, the jean marries the hallmarks of quality denim loved by discerning consumers, with environmental consciousness, and from a label that’s iconic and timeless.

So there. Continue supporting our environmental causes both on the road and off. Check out these Levi's 501 Organic Jeans at your nearest branch (I personally go to the one in Rockwell) and m ake Mother Nature smile a little :)

What is it about Baguio and pine trees? The summer capital of the Philippines usually evokes memories of the unmistakeable aroma of pine, an aroma that in turn triggers memories of fun summers, inebriated nights, and forlorn romances. Indeed, this northern getaway could symbolize a whole lot of different things for a whole lot of different people. During my latest jaunt there, the time came to nurture a Baguio experience of a different kind - my first road race in the City of Pines!

An Unlikely Gig The whole trip started innocuously enough - majority of the gang was disenfranshised by the lack of slots to TNF and we were lacking a weekend gig. Out of what seemed like divine providence, coach Pojie suddenly mentioned that Botak was organizing a Baguio race, the idea floated to him by Craig of Team Logan. With the recent beating the Botak brand has taken amongst running denizens, the announcement was met with a certain degree of apprehension. These fears were quickly allayed when it was mentioned that the race was being handled by a different organizer. From that point on, everything seemed like a blur. Before we knew it, ageless resto magnate/speedster/overall good guy Bong was already taking care of the logistical preps for the group. And thus the adventure begins... .. Carbo- Loading in the Cold Craig offered to organize a Carbo Loading Party or CLP at his Baguio abode the Friday before the race, much like the Takbo.ph CLP shortly before the Condura Run. Due to work constraints, I was prevailed upon to drive over on a Saturday, and it looks likeI missed a wonderful celebration. I promise I'll be there next time guys!

The Takbo.ph gang at the Logan home The Night Before The 5 hour drive going to Baguio was pleasant enough, the SCTEX doing wonders for what used to be an extremely cumbersome ride. After retreating to Baguio Burnham Suites, (shame less plug for my friend's hotel haha ) I went on to visit the Takbo.ph gang at Chelly's place where practically everyone was staying. I am in no way, shape or form an expert on Baguio roads, so suffice to say I got lost multiple times while looking for the place. After much tribulation and comprehensive directions from the police station (fine I gave up so sue me) I finally found the place!I was so happy to see the gang, the hard-core running addicts of my running team celebrating our sweeping point of commonality in such a remote and unlikely locale. We had quite the delegation! I was even offered some Bacardi! To put in my hydro belt! (They were kidding. I think.) After chilling with the gang, I left for my hotel with bright anticipation for the race that was to commence in a few hours.

Fun Takbo.ph times at Chelly's winter palace

Gal pals Julie and Carina hyped up for the race

21k virgin Edu chillin out

The Cranium set which provided the entertainment for the nightBaguio D-Day With roughly four hours of sleep, I trotted over to the starting line at Burnham Park near the pond. I was lucky that the hotel was pretty near, so I got a half-decent warmup run in chilly 16 degree weather. The gang was already there, excited yet anxious at the same time.

Ready to go to war in the chilly Baguio dawn

Let's get it on!!!!!The organizer was announcing all the running teams and clubs that came- a smattering from Manila and a handful of varsities from the prevailing locale. It seemed that the Takbo.ph delegation was the biggest from Manila. However, the biggest delegation was hands down from the PNP training corps , both their men's and women's squads were there. There also was some unintentional comedy involved as the organizers instructed the Takbo.ph team to come up the front of the line! Feeling elite! Haha :) At about 5:45 (15 minutes from the announced start time as we had "waited"for the police escorts) the starting gun went off. So here we go... .. On a Higher Plane Given the aniticipated difficulty of the course based from the group's feedback after their ocular the day before, we all adjusted our projected pace accordingly. I was pacing with Takbo.ph founder Jinoe, and we decided we should maintain a 6:30 pace for the first 10k.Once again, just the mere fact that I was racing in Baguio was so surreal for me. The chilly thin air, that unmistakeable aroma of pine, great company... . sunrise at 1500 feet... . Wow... ... It was AWESOME. Makes the 268 km ride from Manila (okay fine I measured it with my Garmin. Junkie.) all worth it. And just as I was starting to get a wee bit too comfy in my utopian dream scenario, a rapid 3 km downhill descent that we were running at 5:20 pace gave us an ominous portent of things to come. As all runners reaching turnaround points know... . what goes down... must eventually go up. Gulp. It's The Hardest Thing At the 10k turnaround point and requisite 1 minute walk/water break, me and Jinoe were trying to mentally prepare oursleves for the drudgery that were going up against. We tried for 1 km to run it, but the hills were just too much. We ended upusing a run/walk strategy, even surrendering a 10:00 minute split. Looking around, even the police cadets were walking. Damn, it must have been THAT hard. Check out the elevation courtesy of Jinoe's 405!

Homeward Bound Having survived that, we struggled to get our wits about us. We had surrendered nearly a full minute from our pace and we needed to make up for lost ground in a hurry. So what we did, we used a group of gruff cadets as a pace group, and they hurtled through the return route at a 5:20 pace. We struggled to keep up and thankfully our second wind kicked in at this point. As we starting to catch some sort of coherent rhythm at this point, we realized that we were on the way back to Burnham already! The course was going to be short! As I sprinted towards the finish line at 2:01:43, the 10k runners of the Takbo.ph gang greeted me with a rapturous round of applause, sweet music to my ears after wining yet another battle of wills. Boss Jinoe soon followed suit, about 15 seconds behind by my estimate. The moment we had crossed the line, the kind lady organizer immediately asked how long did the race register on our Garmins. I told her, 18.16 on mine. She then went on to explain that the local government had them do emergency reroute because of some digging that was being done. While some may have thought that this was the latest Botak disaster, I felt that from a PR perspective her prompt, on-the-spot public announcement and apology was the best possible thing that could have been done. Shirking from the issue would have been disastrous. As a result, the discrepancy was more or less downplayed by the participants.

Sprinting with a smile towards the finish line

I conquered them hills!

18k? Easy!

Jinoe, Me, Mhel, Poj, and Doc Roy

Queenie getting her top-15 finish medal Final Thoughts Overall, it was probably one of the toughest races I have been part of. The 3k killer uphill stretch truly left little to the imagination ; if you think I exaggerate you should try it out for yourself. The cool weather, the tremendous locale and wonderful scenery made it all the more special. And hey, it's not like you could race the infamous uphills of the City of Pines every week right? As always, even if I wasn't there for their entire stay, the Takbo.ph team made the experience infinitely more special. I grabbed photos, sue me later :) If you want interactive map info of the race, check it out here - http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/player/8310795 What is it about Baguio and pine trees? What strong memories do these bastions of generations past evoke? Forlorn romances? Inebriated nights? I don't know about you, but I 'll never look at Baguio in the same way again.

In running circles, the aformentioned icebreaker is almost always certain to come up in any conversation. The proverbial talking point's saliency is relative to the overall goals of the person addressing the query. Thus we could surmise that for some runners this question may seem completely irrelevant, while for others it takes on near-reverent status.

People run for different reasons. Some run to lose weight, some to beat themselves. Some run just for the cardio, while some just like to hang out for the company. That given,the key concept that I wish to postulate on pertains to when exactly does running cease to be fun, and our inherent competitive streak starts to kick in? Let us try to explore two distinct possibilities.

Conditioning. Could it be a simple matter of conditioning? Under this assumption, the moment a runner gets into better shape the PR's would essentially be transmuted into the be-all/end-all of the running experience. However, if this were accurate, then how could most people confirm the existence of the "blatantly out-of-shape yet uber competitive" runner types? Just some food for thought.

Personality. This goes to argue that people who have strong personalities tend to be more competitive towards their race results. However, I have personally met several runners who have an aggressive, competitive mentality off the road yet are completely timid on it. And vice versa as well. So what gives?

The looming question of where runners get their competitive edge is a tough one, bordering on a philosphical, paradoxical precipice. On that note I can offer you no answers. After reading the following entry though, I am hopefully leaving you with chunks of inquisitiveness that you could bite off and chew. I don't have any formulas, but your inputs could enlighten us towards a greater understanding of why we do what we do. With all the running going on, it never hurts to stop for awhile and think. Do it often enough, and you'll never look at "Pare, Ano PR Mo?" in the same light again.

Just some food for thought.

Why do we run again? It's for times like these. Times when you try to fall asleep at 8 pm on a Saturday night so that you'll wake up at 1am for an out-of-town run. 1am? Most of the nocturnal denizens of the metropolis are still in Fiamma or Emba at this time, the booze overflowing at every corner. It sort of reminds me of my old lifestlye. If you had told me a couple of years ago that I would be adhering to this spartan way of living I would have given you one of those incredulous, you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me looks. Alas, I have been locked in to the wonderful world of running, and there's really no turning back. The parameters of last Sunday's run were relatively simple. We drive to Tagaytay, then run 34k to Mhel's house. Mhel was kind enough to once again open his home to the Takbo.ph team, the first time being after the Greenfield City race. So how did my weekend adventure begin? I woke up at 1:00 am and basically sleepwalked my way into preparing for the run. I wanted to be on the dot for this , so by 2:30 I was at the place of my uncle, fondly called Tito Caloy by the group. He was joining the long run after only having a 5k prep run at Botak the week before with no prior running experience. Apparently, getting hooked runs in the family hehe. He told me that he had no sleep at all because my cousin was badgering him to death about coming along. So he strived to get as much shut-eye as he could in my car.

Tito Caloy dreaming of PR's in the carThe highway laid out at a utopianesque standstill, we picked up Rod and Gab at the Sucat exit at 3:00 am as per our arrangement. With Tito Caloy half comatose while riding shotgun, we could hardly contain our frenzied excitement for the run despite the ungodly hour. We arrived at our meeting spot in Paseo de Sta Rosa before 3:30. Sam and a shnoozing Rodel who came directly from work were already there (excited) . In a few more moments Doc Topher and Mhel arrived as well. An unfamiliar face soon showed up, and we were happy to see that it was actually forum habitue Mond aka Pawgee that we were meeting for the very first time.

The first four Doc Eric, our kind host/organizer for the Tagaytay leg, came in at about 3:40 am. He said he woke up late hehe :) With the looming problem of how to transport everybody to the start point, it was decided that some cars would be left at Paseo, and some would help Doc Eric transport the gang to the start point. For some reason, we went with my car, inspite of the fact that it was lowered and could only accomodate so many people. We crammed five dudes in there! As a result, I could only drive at "punerarya" pace. We got to Doc Eric's Tagaytay house and was happy to find the whole gang there. Carbo-laden goodies were strewn across the dining table. After some niceties and last- minute preps, we ventured out at nearly 5am, an hour later than our estimate. The sun was rising , and we had to make up for lost time.

The Takbo.ph team at ground zero After navigating our way out of a dark, mongrel-infested route (read: crabby, hungry looking Askals), we made it to the main highway. For most of the initial route I was designated as the pacer. I was following Doc Eric's prescribed pace of 8:00/km if we intended to make it there on time. As I soon found out though, this pace was a bit too fast for the group to stick together ; 9 - 10/km was more appropriate. I relinquished the pacer role and engaged the gang in friendly banter, took time out to take some pictures. Mhel took on the pacer role at this juncture.

Smiling so that the doggies would go away

At least Sam's happy

And so we begin

Tito Caloy aka "Enduro" is tired already?

Why do we run again? It's for times like these . Running in the cool Tagaytay pre-morning breeze was so relaxing for me, such a transcendent , preternatural experience that it reminded me of why we sacrifice so much. No amount of money could replicate that exact, precise moment for me. At just before the 10k mark for us Takbo.ph head honcho Jinoe and BDM 102 finisher Jerry aka High Altitude joined us. By this time, the group had splintered into several groups, with Mhel and Jerry leading the first group. I had the privilege of pacing with Jinoe for several kilometers, only stopping at the Rotunda because the last group was way behind and we didnt want anyone lost. Picture taking galore ensued :)

The Takbo.ph boys!

Rodel and Boss Jinoe running... . in place

May view may view picture muna!

Hagibis reunited? Why do we run again? It's for times like these. Me and Jinoe wanted to get a good workout from the whole thing, so we upped the pace to 6:30. Before long, we caught up with the lead group on walk break. Jerry was still the pacemaker, so when he broke away he followed suit. An interesting sidelight about Jerry - I kept on talking to him in the vernacular, and he would only give what I made out to be a look bordering on confused and snobbish. Turns out, our BDM ultramarathoner was Indonesian! And he was anything but snobbish. Once we got the language barrier out of the way, he was extremely helpful and gave so many tips on our ultramarathon dream next year.

Ultraman Jerry aka High Altitude. Tito Caloy and Sam mugging inthe background As amiable as he was off road, he was just as intense on it. For what was hyped to be an LSD, we were pushing it at 6:00 - 6:30 from the 10k to 20k mark. There were several of us in the breakaway lead group - Jerry, Jinoe, Me, Mhel, Mond, and lo and behold Tito Caloy who was lagging behind. I had to keep on coming back for him just to check up, and I was repeatedly shooed away hehe. Old people :) Also, the heat was starting to catch on. With not so fond memories of my Botak meltdown, my confidence was shaken in extreme heat. My Garmin analysis later showed a 31 degree high with 70% humidity, even hotter than that ill-fated race day. Alas, with the right will and determination we reached the first stop, 20.2 km down. The rest of the group who were running the partial route were waiting for us as well. We entered to the warm cheers emanating from familiar faces More friends! Alright! :P

Fun times with the whole gang

Buying P12 Gatorade in bottles.Hmmm...

Mond taking a breather

Age doesn't matter... ... Aray... ... .
Having recharged our batteries (P12 bottled Gatorade was all the rage, and special thanks to Mhel who lent me some cash after I lost mine) the group braced itself for the next push - a 7k jaunt to "nearby" Paseo de Sta. Rosa. The heat was getting to be pretty bad at this point, the ill effects of starting an hour late. I think pacer Jerry felt this as well, so instead of slowing down, we took off maintaining a 6:00 - 6:15 pace for the distance, leading a pack that included myself, Docs Eric and Pinky, Mhel, Mond, and Quennie (who got sucked in by the pace). We were left wondering - what LSD? This feels more like a 27k tempo run! By this time, the heat was sweltering. The heat would have made the Gobi Desert proud. As the group started to trickle in one by one, we came to the realization that we could go no more in this heat. It was another good 7k to Mhel's place. I decided against running any further, and so did Tito Caloy. A few brave souls ventured to go the full distance - marathon man/coach Pojie on "taper" mode, comebacking Carly, Mhel, Jerry, and Mond. We salute your dedication! Ayos!

27.56k ... . is... ... enough... .

We'd rather take the car!

Why do we run again? It's for times like these. At Mhel's house, the group's camaraderie was in full swing. Like road weary Spartans coming home from their latest victory, you could feel the vibe of contentment and happiness in the air. It's an unexplainable, magical feeling that runners alone can empathize with. Forget the aches and pains. We just cleared a distance greater than a half marathon! The food was overflowing, the laughter pervading. Nevermind the hassle of going back the entire distance to get our cars in Tagaytay. Forget the 50k ride back to Manila. We accomplished something, something that no one can ever take away from us.

Manokan Express with Chicken Arrozcaldo

Poj and Quennie with our kind hosts

Power couple Rach and Neil

Busog!

Happy Camper

All in a day's work!

Takbo.ph rocks!

Why do we run again? If you love running with a fervent passion... ...

Then you'll know that it's for times like these.

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!

Now would you look at that. Who would have known we would get this far. When I started this a year ago, it was really nothing more than an avenue to house my random incessant ramblings on this newfangled thing called running.

Birthday Mode Woot Woot!

It was clunky, disorganized, and exuded the design moxie of a 5-year old. To those who never got to see that, I don't have a template but this is the closest thing I could find. One of my early misguided attempts to sell baking equipment lol.

Over the past year, I have been humbled by your continued support. I thought that our readership would comprise of my Mom, Dad, two sisters and the dog. Never in my wildest dreams did I fathom 90, 939 people would actually bother and visit, plus a Philippine Blog Award nomination just for kicks. I am totally indebted and floored. Thank you so much :)

The last 12 months have given us a lot of memorable stories - my ongoing pseudo love affair with the Sub-Piolow (and now the Sub-Binay. Crap he won VP. I might get roasted) , the memorable Liempo runs , the quest for the elusive CP2. And who could forget "when Hitler finds out he didn't make it to new balance". That's still the post that generated the most comments. Sadly though, it's gone forever. The original YouTube host took down the video, and thus its now a dead link. Sob. Was fun while it lasted though.

It's gone forever

Now, as we hit the one year mark a crucial juncture has been reached . I'll be honest, I'm at a crossroads as to whether to continue the site or not. As mentioned in an earlier post, I don't run any ads so the site isn't self-sustaining. In plain and simple terms, I am actually paying to spend a lot of time writing (doesn't quite make sense eh?)

Where do we go?

I spend a lot of man-hours coming up with these writeups , and with an increasingly demanding dayjob, I'm not sure I can keep this up. Don't get me wrong , I love what I do. Heck it's brought us this far. But ultimately, it comes down to making practical decisions. So really, this is a bittersweet celebration. It would be great if you guys could chime in. Give me your thoughts.

And once again, my heartfelt thanks for the incredible ride.

PCL Jala-Jala Classic National Road Race Championships 110k - 4:05:14 (174th)
2011 Condura Skyway Marathon 42k - 4:14:40 (146th)
Subic Bike King Classic 70k - 1:53:28 (120th)
1st Bataan Death March Ultramarathon 160k - 29:30:18 (33rd)
Powerade Sprint Duathlon Leg 1 - 1:46:20 (10th in age group, 61st overall)
Pico De Loro Invitational Triathlon - 2:40:51 (7th in age group)
Subic International Triathlon - 3:10: 37 (32nd in age group)
Tri-United Matabungkay Long Distance Triathlon - 4:44:26 ( 23rd in age group)
Cobra Ironman Philippines 70.3 - 6:37:44 (39th in age group)
PCL Tour of Clark Stage 1 Team Time Trial 48k - 18th placePCL Tour of Clark Stage 2 Circuit Race 60k - 2:21 56th placePCL Tour of Clark Stage 1 Team Time Trial 118k - 4:06 61st place

Cebu City Marathon 21k (30th) : 1:50:43
PSE Bull Run 10k - DNS
Condura Skyway Marathon 42k (280th) - 4:56:03
Bataan Death March 102k Ultramarathon (82nd) - 17:35:53
National Geographic Earth Day Run 10k (17th) - 49:24
Asian Hospital RunNew 10k (25th) - 53:14
San Mig Coffee Bay Run 10k (10th) - 47:01
HP Fun Run 6k (1st) - 28:03
Chris Sports Epic Relay 250k (2nd) - 23:13:00
New Balance Nuvali Adventure Trail Run 15k (307th) - 3:04:23
35th Milo Marathon Eliminations 21k (45th) - 1:50:51
Powerade Duathlon Leg 2 (86th, 16th in age group) - 1:56:29
Takbo.ph Anniversary Runfest (21st, 7th in age group) - 46:32
Dean's Cup Invitational Triathlon - (56th, 9th in age group) - 1:54:15
7-Eleven Tour 500 - 3:27:28
Sonshine Cycling Festival Criterium - DNF, outlapped after 35 mins.
Fort Running Festival 21k - 1:43:15 (57th individual, 1st team)
Tour of Matabungkay Stage 1 100k - 3:52(188th)
Tour of Matabungkay Stage 2 90k - 2:53 (163rd)
Tour of Matabungkay Stage 3 TTT - 59:24 (29th)
Adidas King of the Road 10k - 50:15 (75th)
Powerade Standard Distance Duathlon - 2:41:54 (4th in age group)
Malakoff Powerman Malaysia Long Distance Duathlon - 4:24:52 (60th)
Nike Run Manila 5k - 22:34 (81st)
Speedo NAGT UPLB Sprint Triathlon - 2:03:01 (38th overall, 8th in age group)

I have a confession to make. I suck at presscons. Absolutely suck at them. I am quite possibly the worst blagger to invite to these things. For some insipid reason or another, I keep on missing them. Either my car gets a flat, I'm assigned OT work or I have some family thing. There's always something going on. I have like a 10% attendance rate, and sooner or later I'll be declared persona non grata by race directors and PR people alike. I never get em goodies. Sob.

So you could just picture the smile on my face when they told me that the presser for the upcoming San Mig Coffee Bay Run Dash for Health ( okay that was long) was at Congo Grille at El Pueblo. That's like... .. two blocks from my house. Yessssss. Finally. No way I'm missing this.

I wonder who's that runner?

One more miss and goodbye presscons foreverrr.
Scheduled at 7pm, I cockily thought to myself, Nah its a 3 minute drive from my place. Why rush? Of course, in a move reeking of sheer time management genius I totally forgot that it was Friday uwian. Smart. So there I was , stuck in bumper to bumper traffic going to a resto that's roughly a kilometer and a half from my house. Great. I still have a Nat Geo hangover.

Oh the horror.
So after like nearly 20 minutes, I finally get to the place. And guess what? Much to my consternation evil manong guard curtly stonewalls me at the entrance with a "Ser, pono na poh and parkeeng dito. Weeting na poh dito, weeting." Weeting for parking would have entailed me adding to the already ginormous traffic jam. Apparently, Mr. Murphy has a secret crush on me and follows me around wherever I go.

Shunget ni koya.

So to make a long story short, I brought the car back home and tempo ran from my house back to the resto, a vain attempt to somehow temper my unexplainable tardiness. Of course, I had to run in jeans, leaving my poise on the pavement in the process. Good thing a lot of familiar faces greeted me when I came in, denizens of the running blogosphere in full force.

The faces behind your favorite blags

Que, Gail , and Vimz of Kulit on the Run with hubby Art
So let's cut to the chase. After having way more than my fair share of sisig and chicken, the presser proper unfolded. Takbo.ph first lady Que did the honor of introducing the GM of San Mig Coffee, and he gave the requisite welcome remarks. Kind man. I wish I had him as a Tito.

Que in the house!

Tito saying something about San Mig

Soon after, things were turned over to the comely Marketing Manager ( or so I think, the exact title eludes me) of the brand and she gave a quick primer on the product line. Three things I learned : 1. The San Mig Coffee "healthy" line is tops in its market segment 2. Good ol' Piolow is no longer their endorser, thus visions of a grand showdown dissipated into thin air quicker than it was conjured, and 3. Presenting to a rowdy, predominantly male blogger crowd is an exercise in restraint. Lol.

Deep breathly. I can do this.

Soon after, it was a pleasant surprise to see that Ian Alacar would be assuming Race Director duties for this race. Absent from the mainstream scene as of late, it was nice to see him around for a change. For long-time followers of this site, you may recall that Ian was the race director when I first conquered the ultramarathon distance at Botak awhile back. Fun guy.

Happy mems with Ian and Sideshow Bob

So what are the essentials you need to know about the race? It's going to be held on May 23rd, Mall of Asia grounds. But before you dismiss it as just another MOA race, hold your horses. It's being touted as the first race to have a route that actually cuts through the Manila baywalk. 3k and 5k distances cost P450 a pop, while the 10k and 15k races are at P550.

Race is actually bang for the buck, you get a fancy Unibersidad-made singlet that would probably cost as much as the registration if bought as a stand-alone. And the cool part about the whole thing is you could order your race kits over the phone, delivered COD by WWW.express. The number to call is 795-1777. Niiice.

For you freebie/perk hunters out there, I'd rather that you find out for yourselves what's in store for you during race day, but to give you a quick heads up there would be photobooths, bottomless coffee, loot bags, seminars, and dare I say, free massages?

So there you go. Registration starts April 17, 2010 to May 19, 2010, call the number I mentioned earlier for more details. If you've never run around the bay area, this is a good race to actually try out the local scenery. Hope this helped everyone, I'll see you on the road!

Requisite Gingerbread photo-op with Ian and Marketing gal.

Murphy's Law (mur-feez lo)
- humorous adage or epigram that typically connotes a situation where anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

Murphy's Law. Sigh. Those dreaded two words have pretty much haunted mankind since time immemorial. Little did I know that it would apply to your fun Gingerbread scribe on a mundane Sunday morning race. Actually, I should have paid more attention to certain signs early on as a portent of things to come.

I not likey.
Prologue

Having been out of commission for nearly a month while recovering from BDM , I've been quite antsy to race again. The ITBS that plagued me in Bataan was all but gone, and I've been able to string together a couple of pain-free training weeks. I targeted the Nat-Geo 10k run as my comeback race, only because people were jumping up and down over its cool freebie shirt. Besides, the riveting (smirk) MOA flatlands should be good for my knees.

Then I realized they were charging 700 effin bucks for a miserly 10k.Hmmm... ..

No WAY.

Pricey.
Thus, I had to do some sort of rationalization to justify spending a day and a half's minimum wage on a 10k. And at MOA to boot.

But... . I really wanted that shirt. I really, Really, REALLY wanted it. So, 700 bucks equates to P300 registration then I just "imagine" I bought a cool P400 shirt plus the satisfaction of knowing that I'm actually "running for the earth" in a mall complex that was once, well, part of the sea . Makes sense right? What fun.

Never knew a runner who could turn down a nice shirt

Missed Signs

Maybe I just don't know how to take a hint. So I troll out to BHS on the last day of registration during my lunch break, was assuming the whole thing wouldn't take that long. To my horror, I was advised by the amiable manong guard at Nike Park (who incredibly knew which shirt sizes were still in stock. Promotion due.) that the Nat Geo person would come in at 1- 1:30 pm. Which meant an hour of sheer drudgery while waiting. Thus, I had no recourse but to troop to the nearest fancy coffee joint to burn time. Ugh.

He's better than some of the salesmen there.
An hour or so (and P150 poorer) later, I come in and find a mob scene. Apparently, the Nat Geo dude came in at exactly 1pm and people are jumping over one another. After I come in five minutes later to get in on the action, I am informed in the most glacial manner that they had just sold the last slots to the two ladies to my left.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

As my blood pressure went through the roof, I attempted to explain that I was there before anyone, I just stepped out to grab some coffee. Guy wouldnt budge. Sorry ser huli na talaga yun eh. DANG. This needed drastic action. Several options that were forming in my head at light speed :

1. Use my Gingerbread pseudo-celebrity status by exchanging a slot for my highly-coveted autograph or photo op.

Inherent risk : Cold, icy stare followed by "Never heard of you, you deluded fool. Security!!"

2. Use my not-so- pseudo-celebrity sister as bait by promising a nice, all-expense paid date with her in any Palawan resort of his choice.

Inherent risk : The dude would actually say yes. Gulp.

You can disown me now Ate (x_x)
Realizing that both were not exactly feasible, I had no recourse but to go for the oldest trick in the book... .

And voila, I happily walk out with bib and shirt in hand. And yet, I should have taken this near-misstep as a mere prelude what lay ahead... ..

Raceday Sunday
Fast-forward several days and there I was anxiously putting on my gear on a hazy Sunday morning, a ritual that I have sorely missed over the last couple of months. As I was traversing an otherwise traffic-free EDSA, that 80's song "The Name Game" by Laura Branigan came on. And it drove me absolutely nuts. It was like I was under some hypnotic trance, unable to change the station for nearly 6 minutes. Should have taken it as another sign. To those who have no idea what I'm talking about, I couldn't find a clip on YouTube due to some copyright crap but I did find the original 60's one :

A Case of the Misinformed

Now, I went there under the pretext that the race would be starting at 6 am . Or at least that was what my good buddy/blogger extraordinaire/Milo Nationals finalist Natz told me. Being the original moderator at Takbo.ph, and one of the people who taught me a lot of running stuff as a 200 lb. fattie noob, I have immense respect for the guy. So I was there at 5 am thinking I had an hour to burn. This is where the fun starts. To sum it all up, this is how the next 30 minutes unfolded :

1. Guy waits 20 minutes for Lotto-like line to parking
2. Guy finally reaches entrance
3. "Ser, pono na poh eh sa kabila na lang"
4. Guy freaks out and endures several minutes of hair pulling
5. Goes to the next parking area.
6. With about 4 cars to the entrance, hears the siren and sees the 10k lead pack lead go out.
7. More hair pulling and a lot of Exorcist-like gyrations in car.

GBM lost his nerve

First time. Ever. I was at a loss coming to terms with the fact that I was actually late for a race. No freaking way. I was unnerved that I parked my car nearly diagonally much to the chagrin of Manong guard. I could really care less. So there I was, sprinting for the starting corral, and had to muscle my way through the throng of 3k and 5k runners. Quick check-in, and I was off. Nearly 10 minutes behind everyone else.

Quare mihi Murphy?
Yeah. Why me Mr. Murphy? So here I am, with no warm-up and stretching, attempting to hack out my 10k positive split. Que Horror. 1k split - 4:22. Okay, not so bad. I felt like I was in one of those racing video games where you get a nitro boost and are passing everyone left and right. Dang, thirsty already. Haven't done this in a while. I reach for my hydration and OH. I left it in the car. Great. My kind of day.

By the 3k mark I really had to drink already. Went for a stop at the water station and the water was ... . hot. Not lukewarm. Hot. As in, ready for afternoon tea hot. Another unsolved mystery of the universe.

Mid-race tea any one?

Alay Lakad anyone?
At the 5k mark, split was at 22:58. Decen t, b ut not where I wanted it to be. The lack of preparation and race rust was glaring. Nearing 6k, that's where it happened. I got stonewalled en masse by a throng of 5k runners who were walking the narrow roads of the course. Ugh. I was forced to stop at least three times by the Alay Lakad- like procession Ahhh, the dangers of starting at the back of the pack in a looped race. Flustered, I just saw my Sub-Piolo bid fly out of the window.

Stonewalled again.

It can't get any better than this
Reaching the homestretch, I attempted a last-ditch albeit demoralized rally. Splits were improving, then suddenly I felt a slight twinge at my ITB. Hopeless. It was apparent that it was nowhere near 100% . I just had to gut out the final 1.5 k with the lingering feeling that I could blow out my knee at any time. I gingerly hit the 10k split at 49:24 , nowhere near my best time. I then gingerly jogged the final 40om, because as MOA races go, the excess distance is becoming somewhat of a trademark already. My Murphy's Law race was finally over.

10k? Nah.

Post -Mortem
After the race, I barely saw anyone from the team. Seems everyone went to Earth Run. I couldn't blame them, that was like half the price of this race. Hung out with a profusely apologetic Natzter (who offered to buy me breakfast) and galpal Beth along with multisport dude Jason after. So was the race worth 700 bucks? For the shirt, maybe. It's an open market anyway, with so many races runners have their pick of the lot. It featured a lot of booths to keep the people busy after, and I had this feeling that a lot of people there had a feeling that they were running for a good cause. It's also an exercise in utilizing the power of a strong brand to reel people in. Case study for future mid-sized races.

Ran into officemate Dette. More people running yeah!

Bromance mode with th e Natzter

Fun at the Natgeo Video Truck

Natz and Beth pointing at some weird guy
As for me, it's apparent that I'm a long way off. The knee swelled up after, so im now in RICE and Salonpas roller mode. I'll give it another shot in two weeks or so. Take it easy everyone, stay away from Mr. Murphy! I'll see you on the road!

Being able to sit down to eat a meal after so many months of pain is… Well, totally wonderful. Indescribable.
I hurt my back last summer, something went the wrong way, my back went the other, and I herniated a disk. L5, low down…it was pressing on the sciatic nerve that goes all the way to your toes. Yes it was a very big ouch.

Not nice at all.
I don't suggest it.
Apparently I was one of the unlucky 5% of people who require surgery.
And it affected my ability to blog, there were months when it was difficult to get near the computer. Because I couldn't sit, I would stand at my drafting desk, write a sentence on the laptop, pace out the pain, and go back.
There were times when I thought I might have to give up blogging.
To distract myself, I decided to research a move to Word Press, and go ahead with the name change that had been in the works for ages. What else can you do?

And then a cancellation call came from the hospital.
The surgery was last Tuesday, while I am glad it's over, I still can't believe it.
I'm very thankful.There were a lot of prayers said. And answered.
I'm also thankful that you've stuck with me through what has been a erratic 7 month adventure.
It's been a long road.
I'm looking towards the future, I've got some interesting things for you, and for the future of this blog as soon as I am healed.
Lets see where our blogging journey's takes us.
PS: Thinking spring, and sending warm up wishes to all.

I had great plans when we moved in here in February, they involved raised beds, fences, walkways, a pond, and structures galore. A cat play area for Bootsie, a herb garden just behind the kitchen door, and trellis to hide us from the neighbours. There I was out pacing off the garden beds in the snow, and trying to discover what lay under all of that white stuff.

I couldn’t wait, I had itchy green thumbs, plans were made, books were consulted, images were saved on Pinterest. I stockpiled bulbs, and seeds, purchasing them during the minus zero weather, and snow storms of the early months of pre spring. I stalked the roadside peering into bushes for signs of winter releasing it’s grip, and allowing buds to form. And then one day I looked out into the back yard, and realized that the sun had come around the side of the house, and it was sunny there instead of the shade I had thought we would have all summer.

That was the day I decided not to plan my garden for our new home… yet. That was the day I decided to wait for a full year, to see if the sun crept into crevices, turned corners, or if the wind howled through bushes. To see where the smoke from the BBQ winds it’s way down through the patio, because we won’t be sitting there. To find out if there are wasps, and mosquitoes that would hang out by a pond, and where the perfect place to hear the birds sing is. To find out where our natural pathways take us through the garden, those shortcuts that everyone would be taking whether or not there was a trail available.

Here is a list of reasons why I am waiting. 1. It’s overwhelming: With so many other projects to be done, I just can’t concentrate on planning a worthwhile garden this summer. We need to paint inside, make some changes, and just get settled. 2. I have a different climate: Planting up here is completely different then our last home, it’s drier, colder, and hotter. Xeriscaping gardening is the way to go. This winter was apparently a very easy one, with little snow, but it is lingering. What will a harsher winter do to all of my plants? Where will we pile all of the snow, will it be on the garden beds I might plan out. 3. It’s very expensive: Soil, gravel, structures, all of these cost money, a lot of money. We just moved, we need a chance to store up some allocated funds so that the job can be done properly. 4. I only want to make major changes once: If I take my time to plan and think this through we can always fine tune small details later, but if we make a mistake and place a bed in the wrong place, it’s a lot of work to change it. 5: I need to know where the sun hits, and for how long it stays: It’s only March, and already the sun is filling the entire back yard, but will it continue all summer?

So although it might seem that my plans are put on hold indefinitely they are not. I will still continue to garden, plan, and observe. I will just take my time, and the wait will be worth it,

Rustling birds disturbed by progress down the rural road fly by, flicking from branch to branch. Soon there will be nests, eggs and chicks. Life moving in circles.

My heart swells when I see the mountains bearing less snow, spring is arriving. Bleeding hearts, red stems shaded, cold, but determined to grow through the soil.

Pink blossoms give me a heart shaped thrill. Ferns unfurling, hairy, and brown, green hidden deep, soon to show. Hosta striped stems swirl from the ground, poking, pushing. Buds breaking, no spilled tears. Branches ripening, reviving.

Come spring! Come warm weather! Leave, snow covering the brooding mountains. Bring shine, and laughter to our world. Reach deep into my gardener's heart, and make it swell. PS: If spring has not reached your part of the world, I will send a wish that it will come soon.

I wrote and scheduled this post last week, and completely to my Gardener's embarrassment forgot that it was the first day of spring today. There's a pretty good reason why, and I will be sharing that along with a few other things on Monday's post, see you then.

"After 42.195 kilometers, everyone turns into furry animals with funny names"
- Anonymous

Kilometer 52, somewhere in Bataan. 7 :17 am.

Nearing the halfway mark, one would somehow grasp a palpable sense of accomplishment having completed the ultra distance already. At this point, 99% of the population would have called it a day , limping gingerly to their cars while prepping for breakfast at Mcdo 32nd Street or Paul Calvin's. But alas, this wasn't BHS. We're not pampered pansies anymore. I'm right smack in the middle of nowhere with the heat steadily climbing. At this point, you're doggone tired. And yet, the lurid element about the whole thing is you have nearly have a day to do it all over again.

Still alive and strong at the 52k mark.

Kilometer 56, still somewhere in Bataan, I can't keep track of time anymore.

An essential rule that I apply is that before every race, make sure you have ample restroom time to unload whatever needs to be unloaded. Anxiety and excitement make for a potent tummy-churning mix. Unfortunately, the "posh" accommodations at our "hotel" weren't too inviting. Suffice to say, I ran on a full stomach. Which became even fuller after ingesting practically everything that was on my "buffet on wheels", some which were completely mismatched. Thus, something had to give at one time or another. Great. So after nearly 8 hours of running, I had to go. And that's where the fun started.

I couldn't allow this to happen to meh! Ewww.
I knocked on the first house I saw. Here's a faithful transcript of the proceedings that followed :

GBM : Kuya, pwede ho bang makigamit ng CR? Kami ung tumatakbo mula Mariveles hanggang San Fernando.

Manong : Ay pagkalayo ah! O cge dito na lang pasok ka. Pero pagpasensiyahan mo na ang banyo namin.

(Opens door. Point to, er, a hole in the ground. Yeah. A hole in the ground)

GBM: Ah, ummm, ay kuya iihi lang sana ako eh!

Manong : Ah ganoon ba, akala ko dudumi ka?

GBM: Ay hindi ho, naiihi lang talaga!

Manong : Eh para saan yang tisyu?

GBM : Uuh, para sa pawis lang ho!

Manong : Whatever!! (okay maybe not, but something close to it)
Well, this wasn't a purely kaartehan decision. Squatting over the Neanderthal-like hole could have run the risk of cramping me up. After all, 56 kilometers is 56 kilometers. So as I made a beeline for the exits, I just realized I had lost 10 seconds of precious pace over that. Ugh.

It's a hole in the ground for crying out loud.

Kilometer 57, still somewhere in Bataan. Time is the last thing on my mind right now.

I had AJ and the gang look for anywhere clean. This was slowly turning into a national catastrophe. Option number one- Funeraria Hidalgo. Pass. Option number two - a clubhouse inside a subdivision. Problem was, the clubhouse was at least 500 meters away from the gate along the highway. Great. I didn't even dare consider riding the car because obviously it isn't allowed. With the temperature steadily rising , the extra 1k did not help any. I was losing hard-fought time and pace with these detours.

To further exacerbate things, the efficascent oil that we had been using for rubdowns apparently did not jive well with my fancy P650 sunblock (ulk) and well, the sun itself. My legs felt like they were literally burning. Like you poured an entire bottle of Omega on it or something.Bad decision! Dang. By the time I had finished going to the restroom and had the efficascent oil washed out, I had lost more than 35 minutes already. Great.

It burns, it burns.Km 65, somewhere hot in Bataan. Around 10 am.

After that fiasco, crew chief AJ told me that Abby had just passed me. I hadn't seen her since the start of the race so I decided to catch up with her and say hi. At least I could somehow make up for some lost time. I tempo ran about 3k at 6:20 pace just to get to her. She was in full focus mode, and even my fun Gingerbread jokes would not work on her. She would later tell me that if she had any energy left, she would have punched me in the face. Smirk.For a certain stretch, we were going back and forth. I would leave her, then she would catch up as Aj and RV would methodically hose me down and drape me in ice-cold towels because the heat was somewhat of a joke already. It was fun though, because it was like we were sharing two support cars. Carina, Joni and Z all helped immensely in hosing me down and giving me foodies.

Shared support rocks!

Good morning towels save the day!Abby had a crazy yet effective strategy that entailed NOT STOPPING at all. She even brushed her teeth while on the go. Amazing.

Amazing!

Eating the dust of intense Abby.

Taking up the cudgels for alpha males everywhere.

Km 70, somewhere very, very hot in Bataan. I could care less what time it is.

It's hot. Really hot. Exag hot. Scrambled eggs on the pavement hot. Somehow, I couldn't quite describe to you how ridiculously hot it was that day. Only later on were we informed that the heat actually hit 41 degrees on the thermostat. If you factor in the heat seeping out from the asphalt, it could have easily been hotter.

HOT. The only way I was able to survive was by being soaked in ice cold towels and being hosed down head to foot every 10 minutes. Everything was starting to look like a mirage. I was starting to be extremely crabby brat to my crew already. I refused to eat anything, even a Jollibee spaghetti that would have been yummy in ordinary conditions. AJ was force feeding me, and I would throw away food when he wasn't looking (heheh).

I hate GBM... .

Need a hosedown...

More hosedowns... .

It came to a point where my words had escaped me already... ..

Km 72, I don't know where the crap I am. It's time... to quit?
No. NO. NO!!!! Just as I was settling into some semblance of a comfortable second wind along with a good rhythm with the crew, I felt a familiar pain on the outer edge of my left knee. Visions of walking the last 12k of Globe Run For Home last year came flooding in. No. Not today. Please. As the dreaded pangs of ITBS started to kick in, I was panicking inside. I have 3/4 of a marathon to go, I can't put weight on my knee anymore. A combination of frustration, panic, exhaustion and sleep deprivation suddenly all kicked in, and before I knew it the tears were welling. Good thing RV's shades provided my macho image some decent cover. How the crap was I supposed to finish this thing?? Sob. Sniffle. Mommyy.

End of the road for GBM?I was at an all-time emotional low. Depression. Angst. Abby just ate away at the lead I had built. Now she was gone. Everyone was passing me. Doc Art and Argow were going strong as I struggled mightily to catch up. Alas, my body simply had nothing left to offer. And here I was, legs pretty much a useless pile of rubber. I was already thinking of a lame excuse for not finishing. Sigh.

Thank God for AJ. As my best bud/crew chief, his calm and rational words implored me to solider on when I couldn't get up for the count anymore. Check your competitive streak at the door. Forget your lead. Pace. Time. Whatever. Forget who passed you. That doesn't even matter now. The one thing you should be concentrating on is to finish this race in one piece. We didn't go all this way just to see you quit. Later on he would tell me that he should have watched all the inspirational movies he could, because he was running out of lines. Lol.

Good thing AJ watched a pirated DVD beforehand.
Ice. Massage. Tourniquet. Prayers.

And the madness continues.

Bromance of the year?

Kilometer 80. I saw the Lito Lapid Sign So This Must Be Pampanga.

Kilometer 72 to 80 was probably the roughest stretch of the entire race for me. The pain on my knee was immense, and I was continually on the verge of quitting. Everything seemed to grind to a standstill, inch by painstaking inch seemingly rendered in stop-motion animation. What felt like five kilometers was in reality only one. In my deranged, sleep-deprived state I was admonishing the crew for being too far in between stops (to aspiring BDM support crew out there, it's an occupational hazard). I told them, Every 500 meters!!! I would learn later on that they were actually waiting for me at 200 meter intervals. Oops.

Crunch Time in Pampanga.

Kilometer 82. People speaking in tongues. I think I just saw Grimace in front of me. 2pm?

Fading. Fading badly. At this juncture, I feel like there's nothing left in the tank. I must have fallen asleep while running, as i was jarred back to consciousness by the afterburn of a bus that was about 2 feet away from me. I felt like climbing an summit-less Everest. I was all alone, and weird thoughts were starting to get into my head. Like, !@@##$%%!!!! was I doing this to myself???!!!

Enter Mark. A regular pacemate during the road race season, this athletic wunderkind seems to never tire at all. At just the precise moment that I was completely spacing out, his presence helped me greatly. The casual conversation took me out of my zombie-like state, and just having someone around seemed to have a tremendous effect on my sanity. We felt like we were in some bizarre reality show, and we would somehow manage to alternate between incessant laughter and incessant whining. Heading into the homestretch, I was really liking our chances.

Move over Marc and Rovilson?

Cat walking BDM?
Kilometer 87. Guagua,Pampanga. Need air.
At this point,we were alternating between giving up and giving a motivational speech to one another. The heat wasn't cutting us any slack at all. We were trying to play the numbers game if we would still make cutoff. We sure were a sorry sight, me stopping every 5 minutes due to the ITB, Mark due to severe cramps. Our run-walk ratio was plummeting by the minute, two warriors extended to the very limit. At a certain juncture Mark just sat on the sidewalk and said he was giving up, he didn't care if he would be swept anymore.

Being able to empathize with what he was going through, I gave him my best Braveheart, pain-is-temporary-quitting-is-forever speech. And soon after he was shuffling along behind me again. Pure blood and guts. It was winning time, and suddenly all of the stopovers we were making had made it into a race against time.

William Wallace is da man
Kilometer 92. San Fernando, Pampanga. Two and a half hours to finish 10k.

From this point on, everything seems like a blur to me. From what I recall, I lost Mark, there were people fighting in the eskinita ( !@#$^!! wag mong bastusin gerlpren ko pare!!) and 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 fini sh, I would have.

Don't even think about it GBM.

Kilometer 101. City Capitol. 4:50 pm.
36 straight hours of lucidness. Mariveles. San Fernando. Finally, the insanity was coming to an end. At that precise moment in time, nothing seemed to matter anymore. Just sheer unbridled joy at making it through this life-altering journey, along with tremendous gratitude towards those who had made it possible. Words escape me now. I had said too much anyway, and those of you who had made it this far must be deathly bored.

The high is like nothing you could ever experience. Nothing even comes close. BDM is a beast. I must have told myself I'll never ever do this again at least 20 times. It humbles you. It strips you down and swallows you whole. It changes you.

After all that I just went through, only then did I understand the intricacy of it all.Why these warriors go through all that pain. That suffering. Why would they willingly subject themselves to that type of punishment over and over again?

The long journey over... At that precise moment in time, as I was approaching the finish line, as I was hearing all the cheers, it all made perfect sense. It's not something that can be encapsulated by a mere scribe's hyperbolic lamentations. It's something you have to experience yourself. So with that said... .

See you at BDM 2011. :)