My Way of Living:
training

With the pressure of his gingerbread duties increasing by the day, Gingerbreadman decided just to go away from it all to chill out, lest he implode and flatline like a pancake. The chosen destination was Pearl Farm, located in the durian-infested land of Davao. Will he survive the travails of Northern Mindanao? Will he battle it out with the Abu Sayyaf? With running taking a back seat for the first time in ages, our tale unfolds in the witching hour of a dreary Saturday in Ortigas

Chateau Gingerbread, 4:00 am

*Yawn*. (u_u) Oh lord this is so stupid . Why did they ever create this thing called check in? My flight is at 7:30. Why do I need to get there 2 hours before? Must... sleep... .. sweet sweet bed... I'd wake up this early for race but for a flight? UGH. OH GOD the DOG gave me a LICK on the PECKER. His name is Stroganoff but I should have named him Yuckzilla or Slobbomania. I better get outta here... . Ptooey.

All I ever wanted was to be loved... ...

Somewhere in Edsa, 5:30 am

Tito Caloy : So what airline are you taking?*
GBM : Cebu Pacific. Didn't I just tell you that before we left?
Tito Caloy : What a crab.
GBM: Why shouldn't I, you still owe me 350 bucks from that Mizuno no-show of yours
Tito Caloy : Ohhhh, that. Ah, eh, I'll give it to you later, um, all I have are thousand peso bills and I don't wanna break them.
GBM: ... ... ..

Tito Caloy : ... ... ...

(awkward silence)

GBM : Ugh,I can break it, I have change... .

Tito Caloy : Aaaaaah... . Yeah of course. Anyway, have I told you of that time when I dated Doc Vicky... ...

GBM : Sigh. This internet celebrity thing is really getting to him... .

* courtesy of Google Translate

70's Casanova here

NAIA Terminal 3, 7 am. Counter Girl in the Coffee Shop where the Chicken Sandwich was horrible.

Hi. You don't need to know my name. It's not that you guys would care . Okay okay for the sake of discussion maybe you could call me something. Call me... Chastity. Anyway, I'm the girl that works the counter here at the fancy coffee place here in NAIA- 3. And everyday, I see people flying out into the great unknown, fulfilling their hopes and dreams. Exploring hitherto undiscovered lands, savoring life to the fullest. How I envy them. Except for this chump. Yeah, the one in the baduy yellow shirt and oversized weird watch. Was never a Kris fan. I thought Phillip Salvador was cute though. What a freeloader. He bought a paltry chicken sandwich and he's been sleeping here for nearly 2 hours. What a loser. I am so tempted to record his snoring and turn it into the next novelty hit for Lito Camo. Oh, the king is awake. Finally going to get some peace and quiet here. But hey, at least he's going somewhere. ... .He just talked to someone on the phone, I presume it's his chick. His voice turned really cheezy. Sigh. At least someone cares for him... .. Pearl Farm. So that's where he's going. I wonder where that is. Hay. One day, I'll get my chance. I'll get my shot ... . Someone will love me and show me the world too... ..

It was so much better when he was seated there...

Boarding Gate. 7:20 am. GBM

Boy, that was the most emo counter girl I've ever seen. Freaky. Too much of that Jake Cuenca/Kim Chiu telenovela. Anyway, we're boarding now. Ouch the dude from Cebu Pacific tripped on the Indian guy's laptop charger. Indian dude is steaming. Which is weird. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around. Boarding time. So many people in masks. A single sneeze sets off an exponential series of leering looks. I should have taken that vitamin C Gingerbread Gal was giving me. *sneeze*

The Swine Flu got em all... ... .

Cebu Pacific Flight 5J750, 8:00 am. Kajo. Stop checking me out. Duh. Anyway, my name is Katherine Josephine. My friends call me Kajo for short. And yeah, I just looove being a flight attendant. I mean, you meet so many cute guys. And pilots! Oh I'm sooooo happy they put me in the same crew as my buddies from flight attendant school! They called us the Queen Bees because we were all prettier than the rest. Any else who disagrees is just jealous. As for the work, ugh I hate how these people think I'm they're nanny or something. Why do I have to be nice to THEM? So many questions! Requests! Duh! Duh! They're going to give me worry lines. Look at this old man. Help you with your luggage? Help yourself ! I'm like half you size DUH you expect me to help you? Can't you see my dainty hands? What's with these people? We're here to look pretty! Not carry luggage! Ugh. Unlike this guy. Cool shirt. Did you know I modeled for the I am Ninoy Campaign? I appeared on screen for 2 seconds! That's 2 more seconds than you'll ever get on national TV. Anyway, he ain't half bad even . But he looks crabby. Or sleepy. Or maybe I'm not his type. Hmph. That CANT happen. I'm EVERYONE"s type. If that's the case, he's on my X list for this flight. HMPH . I'll show him.

I'm going to give him the evil eye I swear Cebu Pacific Flight 5J750, 9:00 am. GBMOkay, flight's going okay, unusually high amount of pressure on my ears though. Are we traveling at a higher altitude? Guy next to me is leaning on my shoulder. He snores too. How sweet. And what's up with these flight attendants? They are soooooooo sooooooo crabby. They're frowning and they look totally unapproachable. They're sorta pretty, I'll give them that. Sorta. But they strut around like they own the place, and project a vibe of "I'm prettier than all of you". All these girls are so surly, it's like they took all the b___hes of their training class and put them in one flight. I mean why would they get into this line of work anyway? They could give my 4th grade Math teacher, the one we nicknamed "Groucho Marx"., a run for her money. It's awkwardness 101 here. I'll just sleep this off, I'm pretty sure those frowns will turn into wrinkles by the time they're 30. *snore* (to be continued)

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

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

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

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

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

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

In high spirits... .

And yet anxious for what lies ahead...

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

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

A prayer for guidance towards the right path

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

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

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

It simply meant that they were... .

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

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

Early hero Indorock attempts a furious comeback

The Brothers Rivera put up a gallant stand

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

From the eyes of a legend... .

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

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

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

But I'll have to stop there.

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

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

One last comeback left in us... .

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

All for glory...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wouldn't have had it any other way.

TPB 2010 Baby!

Hi there everybody. What's up? My name is Rain. And I'm convinced ... . that runners hate me. Days like these, I just want to go out and hang around. This is my time of the year. Do you realize how booooring it could be when my good-for-nothing sister dominates the scene? You know, Summer? She thinks she's sooooooo hot. Well, uh, um, I have to agree. She thinks she's all that. But I've seen people around these parts. They hate her. Curse her very presence in the vernacular. ( sample : !@#$ ang init sa Pilipinas!) Promise! But enough about her. This is my time, and I revel in bringing smiles to the denizens of this metropolis. See those kids jumping up and down the street? They like me! See those little men in weird hats in the fields? They thrown parties when I get here! I even see movie stars dance for me in one of them box-office blockbusters. Boy that was a riot. Sarah Geronimo is so cute. Sigh. It feels so good to be loved.

Would have been perfect. Save for one group I can't seem to get a grip on. Runners. They abhor my very presence. I don't even know what I did wrong. I'll give you guys an example. It's a wonderful Tuesday afternoon, and I'm just going out for a walk. My perfect day is ruined by this dude in shorts waaay tooo short and a watch waaay to big for his own good. Why the forlorn look? He looks so crabby. Whiny even. Ohhh. Must be a runner. Oh. I know this guy. He works in that place where there are a lot of young people. He wears those long flowing things that look like curtains. Wears a cap everytime he runs. Maybe because his hair is horrible. Maybe he just likes to hide his face. Hmph. But yeah. He hates me. He's grumbling to what looks like a big fat cat. Oh, it's a dog. A big fat dog. Geez what do they feed this thing. My bad. No wonder they're called man's best friend. They just keep on listening. Hmm. Anyway, this dude wants to run, but he doesn't like me around. He looks so... down. Check him out... I'm convinced... ..

Looks pretty down eh? And of course the blame goes all back to me. He whines. He whines because his clothes are drenched, because his socks in his fancy gait-analyzed shoes would get wet. He sardonically thanks the gods for his good fortune. Hmph. I hope his watch breaks down. He runs along as I observe. He steps unto a puddle , !@#$ is what you hear. This guy needs to get out more. He is putting his hands behind his back so that his fancy watch won't get wet. Like it won't. Read the manual buddy! IPX7! Submersible! 1 meter! Even I know that! He runs into this really fast dude. I see him all the time as well, seems to be from around here. I mean, he is fast. So they run together, he manages to keep up for like 2k, then really fast dude is gone. Guess what? He blames me for not being able to keep up! Runners.

Oh the horror! The nerve! That really upset me. Upset me to the point that I cried so hard. No one has maltreated me like that. Ever! I cried my heart out because I didn't even do anything. *Sob* Then something unbelievably incredible happened. Mr. evil runner guy, in solitary mode because the fast bald dude made him eat dust, suddenly smiled amidst my sorrow. That took me by surprise. I could almost hear his thoughts as his soaked persona glided through the drenched alleyways of his favorite training jaunt... ... .

Yeah. Why did I even do this. Stupid Rain. I will be sooo sick later. The Garmin's probably messed up. I am completely drenched. My socks feel gross. Dang I really had to catch Javy aka Tri'n Hard on tempo run/fartlek day. He's on a totally different level. And because of the rain, my projected 20k mileage builder turned into a 7k race pace run. I'm exhausted. Out of shape. It's the rain's fault. Should have done the Sarah/John Lloyd rain dance. Since Sunday. It won't go away. Had to cancel all my runs. I'll get sick eh. Daw. At least that's what the old people said. But you know what? This is actually... .. fun! I feel like a kid again. It's so cold. I feel so relaxed. Why am I so scared about getting sick? It's just water anyway. The old folks just like to scare you I guess. But hey, I am genuinely enjoying this .

Everyone is running for cover and they're all looking at me like I'm some crazy lunatic but hey, I don't care. This is strangely... therapeutic... ... I never realized. You see a microcosm of the metropolis - the hustle going yin/yang against the bustle of our mundane lives, all seemingly frozen in time as a virtual snapshot is encapusulated in a single raindrop. Awesome.Everything seems to be moving in slow motion amidst the deluge. I am in conplete control, freedom of movement married to a psyche completely bereft of any negativity at that precise moment. I feel... . alive.

Sigh. Just when I had counted him out. People. I could never figure them out.

My name is Rain. And I'm convinced... ...

That runners don't hate me after all.

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... ..

Different Strokes for different folks. Horrible cliche, but when it comes to devising running strategies, training programs, shoe recos - you will get a plethora of answers that are oftentimes night and day in terms of theory and approach. The series would be dealing with the different strategies that runners utilize on race day, and the ramifications that arise from it. Hopefully, you will be able to deduce what is best from you.

The Runner's Taboo - Romancing the Positive Split The positive split. You hear it all the time around running circles in hushed tones, a seeming taboo approached with the same derision and mistrust as one would give the Illuminati. What's so wrong with it? Why do people view it with so much disdain? Let us take a closer look. Eat my dust, I'll see you later! - Newbie In plain and simple terms, a positive split entails that one would be running the first half of the race faster the second . C'mon, admit it. How may times have you see the relatively newbie-looking runner blast off from the starting gun, and you mutter "that won't last long" or something along those lines. Let's face it. There's an almost universal streak of vitriol against positive split runners. I always wondered why. If we are to continue using the boxing style analogy, the positive split would be the unorthodox, hard hitting puncher who is relying on that one big knockout blow to seal the match. It is most closely associated with being new and being amateur. Why is that the case? Under the Hood Most experts and experienced runners I know would recommend negative splits when running a marathon. Apparently, there are several things going on under your body's bonnet while running a positive split that you need to know : 1. You consume your glycogen deposits faster, meaning you'll be depending on fat far earlier in a race. As you may or may not know, this is far less efficient means of getting energy. 2. You hit your lactate threshold way too early, meaning you'll spend the majority of the race running anaerobically ( read: not good), meaning you'll hit the dreaded wall much earlier than usual (read: not good at all) 3. You'll have less margin of error to work around in case you overestimate your abilities on race day (happens a lot) What the Experts Say The experts aren't too crazy about it either. Running legend Sebastian Coe said in his book Better Training for Distance Runners that "deviating from your mean race pace by as little as +or - 2 % is metabolically more costly than remaining within this window" . In his book The Lore of Running, Tim Noakes categorically stated that "you should never listen to those who advocate running faster in the first half so you will have time to cushion your reduced pace in the second half. In fact, your fast pace in the first half is the very reason for your fade in the second half. It is always better to run the second half faster. It gives you the impression that your are faster than you really are. Bordering on the Controversial : My Take Okay, so the positive split was all but butchered by every Tom, Dick, Harry, and even Jane out there. However, as those who have raced with me know, I have a contrarian view on the matter. I have tried to neg split several times, and each and every time it hit me square on the jaw.Case in point - Botak Paa-Tibayan 21k. I had told myself at the time, okay why don't we try this negative split thing since it's a longer distance and everyone recos it anyway. So I ran the first 10k in 55:30, at a pace that is very tame in comparison to what I usually do. So no positive split there. So what happened? Did I break records? Nah. I totally discomombulated over the 2nd half. I had a finish time of 2:14, way off the sub-2 hour finish that I was targeting. At the time that I was supposed to pick up the pace, at the time where my bountiful glycogen deposits and lack of anaerobic effort should have reaped benefits, I had nothing more to give. I tried in vain to speed up, the best I could muster was a 6:30 effort, and even that I couldn't sustain. I felt like I would die at the finish line. So what went wrong? Why didn't the famed negative split work for me?

Nope, it didnt work. It's a mental thing So what happened? I'm guessing it's a mental thing. Perhaps I have a weird psychological makeup. Believe it or not, each and every race that I have run on a positive split led me to setting a new PR. I have honestly no idea why. As we know, the race is just as much mental as it is physical. Once you mind starts playing games with you, you're screwed. As for myself, I always felt more comfortable being ahead and hanging on to a lead rather than coming back from behind. I'd rather race the first half and make the second half a blood and guts game. I do a lot better from a position of control. Specially when there an inclines during the second half, coupled with the Manila heat I am unable to gain any sort of major ground. I would rather steel myself and hang on. Thus it boils down to : 1. You're tired, it's hot, your legs are killing you and you're protecting a lead OR 2. You're tired, it's hot, your legs are killing you and you're clawing your way from behind. Obviously, I choose the former. Mr. Coe said that even a 2% deviation from your intended race pace (if you start aggresively) will extract a "big cost" from your race. So why doesn't it work for me? Is it the debilitating Manila heat? Is that the "unintended variable" caveat that he put in when he wrote it? I just really want to know. Your thoughts and comments please? Let the debates begin.

ning,Different Strokes for different folks. Horrible cliche, but when it comes to devising running strategies, training programs, shoe recos - you will get a plethora of answers that are oftentimes night and day in terms of theory and approach. The series would be dealing with the different strategies that runners utilize on race day, and the ramifications that arise from it. Hopefully, you will be able to deduce what is best from you.

The Negative Split - Just Pass me Brotha, I'll Catch Up Later In common running parlance, quite simply a negative split refers to a strategy that entails you running the 2nd half of the race faster than the first half. Some old-timers would swear by this strategy ; one gets the notion that if you were to compare this strategy with a boxer's fighting style, this would be much akin to the straight up, orthodox manner of boxing. Usually, adopting this method would appeal to the more experienced runners, as it takes quite a deal of endurance and patience to pull it off. The strategy that you adopt also has a lot to do with your personality type. A lot of runners miss out on this important element, as the race is just as much mental as it is physical. If done correctly, the psychological boost of passing slower runners proves tremendously satisfying and evokes the so-called "second wind" that all runners so covet. The cons to this strategy? The most obvious is that the newer, less experienced runners can't pull it off effectively. A common rookie mistake is to sprint out the first kilometer or so as they are lured in by the adrenalin and excitement of the race. The immediate implication is that they hit their lactate threshold so early that they are laboring hard throughout the rest of the race. In addition, the negative split may be difficult or nearly impossible for a normal runner to pull off in inclement weather. During the summer months, the sweltering heat may be too much for some runners to overcome. I have personally ran races where the neg split runners succumbed during the latter part of the race where they were supposed to be making good time. So what are your thoughts everyone? Are you a negative split junkie? Give me your thoughts!

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

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

All's well at Earth Run

Doc T wins!

Wilnar's 5th place finish for the 5k

Coach wins too!

Rico aka Sheer Will with his "medal"

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

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

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

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

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

Fun Takbo.ph times at Chelly's winter palace

Gal pals Julie and Carina hyped up for the race

21k virgin Edu chillin out

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

Ready to go to war in the chilly Baguio dawn

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

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

Sprinting with a smile towards the finish line

I conquered them hills!

18k? Easy!

Jinoe, Me, Mhel, Poj, and Doc Roy

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

I've been asked this question a gazillion times, it's a popular talking point. Most probably, you have been too. But really, within the realistic confines of work and training, do runners burn enough calories that they can afford to literally indulge in anything without the ill effects of a pudgy midsection? Let's take a closer look.

Can I get away with it?

Almost Impossible?
With all of the mileage that runners put in each day, one would think that there's no way that
we could get fat. Thing is, we tremendously underestimate the impact that excess calories could have on our body, and overestimate the amount we burn. For instance, do you know that just 100 extra calories per day equates into 10 lbs a year? That's like the mocha frappe you never should have had. In relative comparison, you need to burn 3500 calories to lose 1 lb. More or less, that's 100 calories per 1.6 k . A tall mocha frappe contains 290 calories. Thus, to burn it off, you need to run about 4.8 k. What fun.

This running thing isn't working for me
Hmmm. I guess we all have our little quirky eating habits. I did some research, and came up with these different classifications with regards to how runners eat. These inputs came from a New York study made on the eating habits of 50 runners of different skill levels. Read up, and see whether you fall into any one of these categories (aminin)

The Night Owl
For some crazy reason, there are those who barely eat anything during the day, then suddenly binge at night. This is much akin to loading up on a full tank of gas upon reaching your destination. Starving yourself during the day will more often than not leave you starving by late afternoon, resulting in a late-night binge - just when your natural metabolism is beginning to slow down. Slower metabolism + food binge = welcome to fat camp.

If you're an evening runner, it also messes up your energy supply and you would be more or less running on fumes.

Not eating = Binging
Tip : Plan two small snacks each day (a handful of nuts or some cheese and crackers) so that you're not going to eat like those competitive food people come meal time.

Plan your running around your meals (or your meals around your running). That means fueling up an hour or two before heading out the door and refueling within an hour of finishing.

The Train-hard, Party harder type.
Don't we all do this? We celebrate a good run or race by getting totally wasted at some watering hole in Ortigas or Makati. Totally acceptable? Perhaps. Health wise? Not exactly. A study in Medicine & Science in Sports & Exercise showed that serious recreational runners drink more alcohol than their sedentary counterparts--and the group surveyed was no exception. And don't think you could save up all those drinks for one all-out Friday night session, as research shows that it's better to just drink once a day than 7 drinks in one night (duh).

Tito Caloy is the ultimate drank rannerTip : Choose alcoholic beverages that are diluted for less impact. Instead of a glass of wine, drink a wine spritzer (do we even have this?)

Don't get drunk the night before the race. You'll be so dehydrated that you may end up throwing up on the side of the road. Saw one myself during a race. And sorry to disappoint, the guy who threw up wasn't internet legend/favorite drunk uncle Tito Caloy ( to newer readers, just google him :p) He's too world-class for that.

And finally, to somehow encapuslate the essence of this article, we have ... (drum roll please)

The Junk Food Machine

These are the people who eat whatever, whenever they want because they believe that running keeps them immune from fattiness. I used to fall under this category. Guilty as charged. As a result, I never really maximized the fitness gains even under a high-mileage program, just because I would eat like an obese person. Ice cream, cake, tons of rice, potato chips, chocolates. Name it, and my tummy had it. While not exactly tubby, my physique didn't exactly resemble that of a person who would run 50-60km a week.

My justification was "but I train my butt off. I can eat whatever the hell I want". I was a guy who was painfully aware of all those poor food choices, but in my unwillingness to change, had somehow convinced myself of this flawed mantra.. While it's true that distance runners need a lot of extra energy to fuel their exercise and could get away with a lot of crap, even high-mileage runners can't exist on junk food alone, since vending machine fare will never provide all the important nutrients needed to properly fuel runs and promote recovery.

Here's your 50k a week guy. How, er, fat este fit.
Junk + regular meals + more junk = A ton of flab once you get off that heavy mileage. Why? Because you're sooooo used to it. So fine, maybe you could get away with it now. But once you kick into offseason, those bad habits will get back at you. Guaranteed. I could gain as much as 15 lbs offseason once the burn goes away. And truth be told, it sucks. So don't fall into the fluctuator trap. Strike a balance between the foods you need and the foods you want. Build each snack and meal around at least one real food group and enjoy junk food at the end of a meal. Also, Never eat junk food on an empty stomach. It almost guarantees a binge.

See that fat guy in the picture? Heavy mileage is no guarantee if you eat like a sumo wrestler. Take it from me. Hope this helps. Eat healthy and see you on the road everyone!

So what's the beef with this VO2Max thingamajigie? You constantly hear or read about it in sporting journals, or mentioned during any endurance sport-related writeup. From a layman's standpoint, whatever it is, if you have high levels of it, you must be good! I first heard of it when reading anything on Lance Armstrong's training regimen. They kept on saying that he had unusually high levels of it. So after several years, that "thing" that sounds like a brand of a PC videocard suddenly took on a greater relevance for me since I have started running. I became curious. What's does it do? What is it exactly? Can I improve on it? I did some research on the subject matter, and this what I learned. It turns out, VO2 max is a measure of the maximum volume of oxygen that an athlete can use, and is measured in mililitres per kilogram of body weight. Quite simply, when you increase your effort when exercising, the amount of oxygen needed to produce energy also increases. Turns out however that there's a maximum level of oxygen consumption, which when breached would no longer lead to increases in oxygen usage. As it is, it's generally considered the best indicator of cardiorespiratory endurance and aerobic fitness. However, as we’ll discuss in a moment, it is more useful as an indicator of a person's aerobic potential or upper limit than as a predictor of success in endurance events. Apparently, there are differing schools of thought on Vo2 max. Some think it is a core element which should be improved upon if you wish to achieve your maximum physical ability. On the flipside, some researchers believe it is merely a measure of of one's oxygen usage at maximum energy output. They hazard that it is not the critical factor which determines performance; but more of a consequence of other limiting factors. Whatever the reasoning may be, at the very least we can be sure that it's a definitive measure of exercise intensity at one's oxygen plateau. Ok, so what more can we get with this Vo2 thing? How can you even know what yours is? There are several methods, one of which is to calculate from your races. A formula was given, but I got super confused - VO2 Max=(-4.60 + 0.182258 * velocity + 0.000104 * velocity^2)/(0.8 + 0.1894393 * e^(-0.012778 * time) + 0.2989558 * e^(-0.1932605 * time)) If you could make something out of that, congratulations! So can we actually improve on our VO2 max? It seems a fair share of it is determined by our genes, but training can improve it by 5-20%.

How do I compare with the general population?

Female (ml/kg/min)

Male (values in ml/kg/min)

What is the VO2 max of elite athletes?

Here is a sample of measured VO2 max for selected athletes.

So there, after reading all of that, I still am a little iffy on the topic, maybe because I'm not a numbers guy. And I still think that if you have more of it, that's a good thing! :) I hope you guys got something out of it though! Tell me what you think!

It was hard to admit at first. You hear the comments, you here the snide remarks. But still, you refuse to face up to it. But deep down inside, it stings. It stings that you are reduced to a mere mocking point all while pretending to be unperturbed by the banality of it all. So face it - you're fat and you're getting old. The six pack abs have since been replaced by an unforgiving mass of jiggling fat. It's not like you can tune out and ignore it.

You have to man up at one time or another. So that's what I did. I decided to run. Cancel out all the PR's and endless training, for me it all boils down to losing weight. And in 6 mos of running I think I have been relatively successful. I stand about 5'10 in shoes, and I ballooned to 195 lbs already. Eeek. 6 months of blood, sweat and guts later I'm at 167 :) My original target was 165, but now I'm adjusting it to hit my college weight of 155 :) Wish me luck!

At Takbo.ph we have an abundance of weight loss success stories as well, people like Timmy, Natz, Sam, Carlo, Rodel to name a few. We are all fighting a common malaise, and while the battle appears to have been won, the war is far from over.

Much has been made about the "gait analysis", a hitherto unheard of term for me before I started running. However, once my running injuries started to pile up one after the other, I realized it isn't quite as simple as slipping on the fancy looking pair out the window. Here's my post on my gait analysis experience at Second Wind, a specialty running store located in Quezon City :) Okay, so finally I have had it with my injury-causing Mr. Quickie shoes that caused me to have an agonizing Greenfield Run. I have been using an Accel lying around the house as a very poor replacement. Well at least they didn't cause me blisters. But after running it during the MOntalban LSD and using it for my regular training runs it's like I was getting more aches and pains around my quads and calves, even the heels.
I decided that enough was enough, and that I had to go and get a gait analysis just to know what precisely was going on. Highly recommended was Hector Yuzon of Second Wind. Second Wind is a newly opened shop located in Teacher's Village, QC. An accomplished ultra runner himself, he told me that his shop is envisioned to be one for runners by runners. He could train salespeople to talk about sizes and specs, but it takes a real runner to get to the crux of the matter when customers ask very specific, experience-based questions.

So without further ado, we began with the analysis. You're supposed to run with your current shoes, and I was embarrassed when he told me that that Accels were actually badminton shoes

I was made to run on a treadmill, and actual video stills were taken. It showed that I was essentially an extreme overpronator with my left foot while my right was normal. I also learned that I was a midfoot striker which is good for long distance running. Apparently , there's an acceptable degree of variance when your leg hits the ground, and my left leg was way out there. This was the reason why I get injured often. So to combat this, I was referred a stability shoe to correct the problem. Hector offered 5 choices from best to good, then had me test them on the treadmill after.
I ended up getting the New Balance 848's, and they worked like a charm during last Sunday's race, helping me set a new 10k PR

Overall, Hector's amiable demeanor and encyclopedic knowledge of all things running related helped me immensely in making the right choice. Happy customer here, and I highly recommend his shop. Lots of singlets, shades, shorts to choose from aside from of course the shoes.

Check out my gait analysis here guys. It's by appt by the way, just give his shop a call

Click to zoom and drag to navigate!
Open publication - Free publishing - More gait analysis

Editor's Note (as if there were one, just wanted it to sound cool lol) : This is coming out a tad bit late, ran into a combination of an extended blogging slump and a Bora weekend combined. Pardon the overall crummyness.

Racing in the South is always fun. Not too many people, fat chance you could even nab a podium on a good day. My too- few- and-far-in-between South races have always been pleasant experiences, thus joining RuNew in Alabang was somewhat of a no-brainer.

Not-So-Chump Change

Was looking for a race to test my knee out in a competitive setting, and I didn't really know too much about it except that it was sponsored by Asian Hospital and that it was for some charity. I thought it was a small-time race until I left with a bib, a timing chip, and P600 less in my pocket. A Rio race as it turns out. The timing chip instantly conjured visions of cash flying out of my wallet. Much to my chagrin, there was no singlet given but was instead promised a finisher's shirt. Grumble.

Babay P600.

Of Seguristas and Bratinellas
I came from the Subic International Triathlon with Ultramarathoner Abby the day before, just cheered on some friends while grabbing some multisport inspiration. Was dead tired as we made the trip to the duuurty South. Coming off my unacceptable tardiness at Nat Geo, I wasn't going to take any chances this time.

Got there with an hour to burn more or less. While trolling the premises, saw elites Junrox/Tigerboy and a healthy Alfred/El Kyoshi walking in the shadows. More walking brought this random soundbite from this nosy-looking kid emerging from a Portalet :

Bratty Kid : Ewww yuck so kadiri inside Mommy it smells like a tae!Mom : Anak don't say that!Brattu Kid : But mooom! I need to make poopoo na!Mom : Hay nako just hold it till we get home. I still have a race.Bratty Kid : Waaaaah!Mom : Wag na maarte, ano you want sa portalet or in the grass?B ratty Kid : Mommy the grass smells like a tae also!Mom : !!!!

What a brat.

In The Presence of Family
After being a veritable tourist over at the multisport arena, it was nice hanging out in more familiar surroundings where I actually knew someone. I ran into Takbo.ph power couple Jinoe and Que, a retro-looking Marvin along with Z paired with a rare PatCon sighting. Not too many people though. Distance? Price? Still, it was nice to be back in familiar territory.

Fun before the gun

An Outside Chance
Just before the gun went off, I was looking around. No familiar faces. As always, my competitive juices were flowing. Give or take a couple of elites, and with the stronger runners at 16k, I hastened to strive for a top 10 finish. And as the lead pack went off, I found myself at the tail end. Hey, I have a shot at this. Law of averages. I have to get it one of these days right?

Toe to Toe with Elite Gal

ITB woes exacerbated at the Nat-Geo race have prevented me from executing my master plan of doing "maintenance" 10k training before plunging into an 8-week program for Milo. In short, here I was blatantly out of shape, preparing to race a 10k on sheer guts alone. And as most of us know, oftentimes that just isn't enough.

As I was trailing the lead pack, I did the requisite headhunting to maintain pace. I ran smack into a strong lady runner who had nyort nyorts and that batak 5% body fat look. Hmm. She was impossible to shake off at 4:20 pace. Was thinking, no way she could maintain this. But then again, who said I could maintain it myself? Kapal ko talaga. (I would later learn she would take 3rd for the ladies) Lol. I told myself, I have to want this more than she does. With that pervading thought in mind, I made my move at the 3k mark and made her eat dust. Wohooo!

She ate Gingerbread dust... well, sorta.

On Gassing Amidst Those Southern Rolling Hills

Of course, that short-lived success didn't last long. A continuous uphill stretch and I was a goner a kilometer later, my elite galpal kicking stardust in my face along the way. No wind, no legs. I was gasping like a chubby fugu fish out of water. Fail.

Swim away fugu fish, swim awaaaay. Okay that was weird.

The Duel With MaselMan

Before the race began, I noticed these two buffed-up dudes who looked like Fitness First spinning class instructors with matching singlets to boot. Figured they were, er, best friends. Until they hugged each other good luck. Tightly. Anyway, at one point early on I passed bromance dude #1. During my mid-race fade, bromance dude #2 zoomed by me at what I reckoned to be near-max HR judging by his breathing. He would do a long walk break then go all out again. I surmised that redlining your HR in bursts and spurts would cause you to gas out later on (running strategists please back me up here).

So for about a 2 kilometer stretch, we would go back and forth at it. At least I had some sort of live metronome to salvage whatever remained out of my pace strategy. Nearing Km 7 in posh AAV, I decided to go for it when I sensed he was fading. Score one for the Gingerbread dude.

Bromance City

The Pain and the Agony

The adrenalin was pumping as a persistent foe was vanquished. Slowly hiking the pace back up to a decent (given the course) 4:57 pace, everything was on cruise control primed for an even stronger finish. By my estimate, I was at about 11th to 14th places at this point. Elite gal (who whooped me earlier) was actually within my line of sight. Then a particularly disconcerting sharp pain shot up my left knee. Dang. ITB mode. Ignore. More pain. More ignoring. Finally a stinger had me hopping on one leg in excruciating pain.
Dammit. No way. I worked so hard only to throw it all away. Just 2k to go! I had stretched this all week, even Salonpas rollered it so much to the point that my room already smells like my Lolo's CR. This sucks. Really does. I'll try to run it off. Aaaaaaaaah. Aray. Arouch. Mommmyyy. Oh great bromance dude just passed me. With a smile on his face. Someone kill me now. Maybe I can just roll to the finish line.

ITB Fail. More frustrated than hurt, I gingerly(no pun intended) attempted to jog to the line . I even ran into old buddy Gary who was on the way to finish his 5k. (Ayan nabati na kita bro. Burger ko. Smirk.) Totally dejected, I surrendered the final two splits at 7:40 and 6:41 en route to limping home with a 53:14. I would later see that this effort somehow managed to snag 23rd place in a lean field. Sigh.

Post-Mortem
Overall, the race was a lot harder than I had expected or prepared for, and most of the people who raced it would pretty much agree. The relative humidity was off the charts, people were sweating like a presidential candidate on a live televised debate. Most weren't too thrilled about the finisher's shirt though, saying it was "pambahay " quality (don't shoot the messenger). For a premium priced, chip timed race, I guess they were expecting more, given the absence of a singlet.

On a personal note, it's back to the drawing board. Not only was I out of shape, it's apparent that the ol' ITB is nowhere near 100%. A break is impending. Maybe I'll go to the beach or something.

But I guess what's more important is that I actually made it to the end of this article. Been in a terrible writing slump lately. If you're a basketball fan, I'm pulling off the equivalent of a 4- for- 21 effort. Guess this is a step in the right direction. Law of averages. I have to get it one of these days right?

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!

Sorry, I couldn't resist. While trolling the morning paper, I ran across Philstar's comprehensive (and commendable) series on all the presidentiables along with their corresponding running mates. With elections being the hot topic nowadays, aside from the typical political posturing the feature actually delved into the otherwise mundane details of their daily lives.

While I'm generally politically neutral, I couldn't resist commenting on Makati mayor Jojo Binay's interview in the aformentioned feature. Part of the line of questioning attempts to ascertain the general fitness level of each candidate, presumably to reassure the general voting public that they wont just die on us in the middle of their term. To cut to the chase, what caused me to nearly spill my morning coffee ( okay maybe I didn't, but I needed some sort of dramatic effect) was this following excerpt of the interview :

At the STAR, Binay ate mixed vegetables (carrots, sayote, and cabbage), pieces of fish fillet, and no rice.

He said he can still run 10 kilometers in 43 minutes.
"That is equivalent to 4.8 - 4.4 (minutes) per kilometer. My weight is 145 lbs. from the start of my campaign. I can still run.

Jojobama is faster... .. than pretty much all of us. Sorry Piolow.

OMG. THAT'S... That's... . that's... .. faster than my time. Or Piolow's time. Or in plain and simple terms - practically all of us. Alas, the new barometer is no longer the hallowed Sub-Piolo ; it is now the Sub-Binay. Sob.

Gorilla is an instant fan.

Seriously though. Really? Haven't seen him around the running scene. Is he doing secret training at the University of Makati's swanky new track oval? What's his secret? 12 x Yasso 800's? 8 x 1.6 mile repeats?

It's fun to train when the track has your, er, face on it.

Hmmm. This additional excerpt from the interview may give more insights.

To prove that he is still healthy at 67, Binay joined editors and staff in climbing up to the fourth floor of The Star building where his interview was held. And although his blood pressure was recorded at 160/100 after the climb, he said his regular BP was 120/90.

Fine fine, so what if his BP shot up several degrees from climbing up four flights of stairs? Give the guy a break, he hasn't been able to train lately. Hard to factor in tempo runs amidst round the clock campaigning. To those who use HRM's, feel free to do the math.

He said that a 43 minute 10k is 4.8 - 4.4 minutes per kilometer. Actually, it's closer to the latter. To the uninitiated, you need a blazing 4:18/km pace to hit a 43 minute 10k. With those kind of hops, methinks he could easily dominate any 67- and above age group. Podium? Easy. Paging BR! Your thoughts please :P

So... ... . are we looking at the outspoken Makati mayor being a closet physical specimen? Or are we all merely being enraptured in political hyperbole?

I guess you should all be the judge of that.

"So, do you guys wanna score tonight??" I was cringing at how the two DJ/Hosts were painstakingly wading their way through innuendo-laden copy.
"Who wants to score with (Name of fun male host) ?"

(Awkward silence)

Not as awkward as the look on the face of the old lady in the back though. And while the overbaked wordplay on the theme wasn't exactly resonating with the crowd, the product at hand seemed to have loads of potential. Enter the SCORE CARD, an intriguing sports lifestyle discount card that would make you forget all about your SM Advantage Card (admit it, you have one tucked in somewhere)

Infinitely cooler than your Mercury Drug Suki card.

The venue was chic nightspot Fiama (where I constantly evade drunken teens at 5am en route to Sunday Morning MOA races), Lots of beautiful, sporty people abound with a cool indie band playing in the background; it really didn't take a rocket scientist to ascertain where they were positioning this card to.

I'm getting too old for this.

The beautiful people of the athletic world abound, like these Frisbee gals.

Do you wanna SCORE?
The premise is relatively simple. Introduced into the country by promotions group Sports Media Asia, the card is touted to be the "Ultimate Athlete's Sidekick". Once you get past the hyperbole, what you really get is a discount card that is specifically targeted towards the recreational or serious athlete. You get cool discounts and perks at all sorts of establishments that encompass nearly the entire sports spectrum.Gear, nutrition, shoes, food, yoga, spas - name it, they've got it.

Cool indie band helped set the overall vibe

Pretty Score Card people with guests

Multimedia affair
Of course, given the propensity of athletes to be injured, they also threw in free P20,000 insurance coverage to boot just in case you blow out your ITB or chip your brand new nail polish (apparently, this phenomenon happens more often that I had imagined). You just need to register your Score Card at www.sportsmedia.com.ph to validate the whole thing.

My Where's Wally shot :P
Sports-minded altruism is apparently also one of the focal points championed by the company. And from what I understood, they will be allocating a certain percentage of the proceeds from card sales to help athletes and sports groups raise funds for training, equipment, etc. for their competitions. So have a worthy cause? Tell them all about it!

Score Card head honcho explaining stuff.

And to cap it all off, it's not like its some lame card you shuck away in your wallet. It's actually an ergonomic, eye-catching piece that would make you the envy of your running buds. Just wearing it would... .change you. Look at these photos to see what I mean.

Geeky looking loser guy with no Score Card

Cool Score-Card toting dude.

Amazing isn't it? So what are you waiting for? Grab your Score Card today. Visit their site at www.sportsmedia.com.ph if you're interested.

Thanks by the way to Doc Marvin Opulencia for the presser pictures, I shamelessly stole them from your photo blog smirk. :P

I was never really a marathon fan. Some people do 5, 6 of them a year. In three years of running I have done two. No, this new race cooked up by Pat and Ton isn't my third. It's actually my second marathon. Ohhh. Surprise surprise. For a guy who has run 102 kms and is planning to tackle 160 in a couple of weeks, you would probably think that I'd have a higher propensity towards long distances. Paradoxical? Yes, perhaps. But we're not here to dwell on the philosophical and introspective trappings of why I'm not exactly your neighborhood marathon man. I'm here to tell you all about my bittersweet journey, so let's get started.

The Background

Funny thing, in relative terms I scarcely had any preparation for this. No fancy 12 week program. No fancy 16- week program. Done that before, didn't quite work .Why? Beats me. Maybe I overdid it, maybe I just wasn't at the requisite fitness level yet. Anyway, after doing mostly maintenance work for sprint distance triathlons, I started "training" for this some time December. I was obviously out of shape, so I figured if I took on a couple of long runs and amped up my mileage, the rest would take care of itself. While this admittedly unscientific approach would undoubtedly draw the ire of online running guru the Self Coached Runner, it came to the point where I somehow had to reconcile my multisport commitments and the specter of BDM 160 hanging over my shoulder. Oh great, BDM. Yeah. But let's save that story for another day.

D-Day, 2:00 AM

While most people had a relatively good night's rest, I barely had any shuteye owing to some last minute Gingerbread errands (don't bother asking). So I'm sleepy, crabby. I feel sick. Ultramarathoner Abby is in zombie mode, but she's still cute. I need a pick me upper. I chuckle when I recall that "Viagra-as-a performance-enhancer" argument. Hey, one day I may just be crazy enough to try it out.

D-Day, 3:00 am

Straighttalk -you know how you just want to get that Number 2 out of the way, but no matter how you force it, well, er, nothing? And at the most inopportune time once you arrive at the venue and nalamigan ka, patay na? It's happened to me before, I sure as hell hope it won't happen again. So how do we remedy this relatively unexact science? You tell me. Send me your best suggestions, winner gets a prize. Snap.

BHS, 3:45 am

The drive from my place took like 7 mins. Thank God for C5. Now if only it would actually stay that way during our regular hours of waking existence. I arrive and meet the TPB boys at ROX. Some interesting sidelights : Brando getting ITB a week before Condura, which sucks because he has been submitting better splits than anyone else in preparation for his first marathon. He's going out on a limb (hopefully not literally) in giving this a fair shot. In related news , Ronnel doesn't have a race bib. Rumor has it that his mom threw it out while doing some cleaning on his room. Ouch. Random sightings : BR posing with a couple of gladhanders and fans. He's running as well. Couple of powerful triathlete friends and well as non-friends ( I don't mean that in a hostile way, that just means I am not on their radar) trolling the grounds. The much hyped, much slimmed down Bearwin Meilly. Couple of Kenyans. Our Kenyan TPB teammate. Wait, there's a Kenyan TPB dude? There's a steady, palpable zing in the air, you can almost feel it. For most if not all, this race serves as the culmination of months and months of hard work . Fitness First Gal goes up the stage ( is it just me, or does Fitness First Gal seem a couple of bench presses away from reaching Chynna levels on those pecs?) and does what she does best. The game's afoot. Let's get it poppin.

Km 10. Moving too Fast.

Dammit, I started too fast. Here I go again. Made the mistake last year, made the same mistake this year. My theory is, if I start from behind and things go awry, I don't have enough in me to pull a negative. So I'm thinking if I work hard enough while I'm still fresh, perhaps I can put myself in a position to get that elusive sub-4 while just soaking in the pain. Hmmm. Sounds like a plan. Blood and guts. Kaso, I opened at 5:00 pace. Aside from the usual monsters (e.g. Junrox, Wilnar), I think I'm pretty much hanging with the big boys here. I feel strong. Maybe this will be a good day after all. 10k split : 50:17

Km 21. Losing Steam.

I'm losing pace. Endure Multisport/Quest 825 buddy/mamaw Erick G. just passed me at breakneck pace (he ended with a 3:50 or better if I'm not mistaken), this after a long bike ride the day before. Geez, this guy is constantly reshaping any paradigm that may have been out there before. Multisport star Retzel , who as always downplayed his running capabilities, looked very strong. Ronnel ran it anyway without a bib and breezed by me. Ditto for Beeps. I am starting to regret both my lack of running fitness and the chutzpah for starting out that aggressively. By this point I am running with a feisty, determined Brando. I am trying to hang as much as I could but I don't feel good. Whoever thought running the Skyway was "fun" should try this out. We're fighting, hanging. Sige lang. 21k split : 1:52 something.

Km 32. You Only Get What You Give... ..

Is it just me, or does it seem that the Skyway is taking forever to end? I mean, last year it didn't seem to be this tough. Wat a whiner. But hey, I asked for this. I am struggling, losing pace by the minute. Some semblance of cramps are starting to form. By this time, Brando had left me to eat his dust. Multisport stars Javy Olives and TJ Isla emerged from behind and were still very strong. I knew that they had a 3:45 target, and if only I could hang with them maaaaybe I could get out of this in one piece. I was successful for a kilometer or three. Alas, I was on the fast track towards a precipitous free fall, and I just couldn't match their pace. Maybe next year. TPB buds Joms and Mark pass me towards the latter part of the Skyway, I'm bottoming out already. Col. Bong from Quest passed me and boy did he look fresh. Oh the horror, my worst fears coming true. Last year, at 32k we were already at the Buendia Takbo.ph support station. This year, we were still traversing the endless slopes of the scenic yet treacherous Skyway. To make matters worse, that crazy guy with glasses who always runs topless has just about reached me. Crap. Is he running or doing a jiggly dance? How... . hypnotic.

Km 37. Panandaliang Ligaya.

Cramps. Shooting up incessantly up my calves every 5 mins, I am relegated to a shuffling motion that is eerily reminiscent of a penguin in heat. I can only look forward to the Takbo.ph aid station knowing that Abby and the rest of the gang was there. I have served in these support stations before, and the boost you could get from them is invaluable. I enter to raucous cheers and my girl giving me a fresh supply of cold drinks and food. Talk about a pick me upper. Alas, psychological highs could get me no further with this one. Before I could even finish the banana I was chomping a new set of cramps hit me. Hard. This time even the quads were locking up. I'm still fighting. Maybe I still got a shot. I've slaved long and hard to put myself in this position. It's winning time. Get it together Luis. Let's go! Km 37 split : 3:22

Ultrasupport!

Km 37-42 So near yet so far.

Ironic that I'm only 5 kilometers from my goal with 38 minutes to spare and yet that finish line could have never seemed any farther. I can hack a 5k in 20 and change if I'm actually in good running shape (rarely happens, if ever.) But obviously this is a different ballgame, and with each attempt to "run", the lactic acid factory in my legs seemed to just produce more and more of the wonderful substance. My calves, quads, and all those other parts i don't know the name to had completely locked up already. Leading up to Kalayaan flyover, I guess this was the lack of a dedicated marathon program haunting silly ol' foolhardy me. This is a classic choke if I ever saw one. Work hard since 4 am only to throw it all away during the last 5k. Undoubtedly frustrating was the fact that while I was sprawled on the floor wincing while a marshal was "inspiring" me to go on, at least 50 people were passing me left and right. Ugh dammit. Right at the very end. I guess could have used that Viagra right now. Frustration, exhaustion, I can't quite explain the whole gamut of bittersweet emotions running through my head. As debilitating as the pain was, I was physically and mentally spent. I just wanted to get the hell out of there and soak in a hot tub. That final 5k stretch was a sorry sight, and as much as those Photovendo proxies did a god-awful job with the pictures ( just speaking for the whining masses), they did a wonderful job in not capturing my wincing, whiny profile during this final stretch. As I entered that final chute amidst a cacophony of cheers, once glance at the clock showed I had missed my goal miserably. 4:14. Dang. Even that final strong finish was ended abruptly by both my legs locking just as I crossed the line. Pfft, so much for that fun finish line picture. Any other way, I was just glad it was over.

Epilogue

In retrospect, it was a bittersweet finish for me. I'll take it as a moral victory. Because even if I fell just short of my goal, I felt if I had strategically approached it differently the result may have been more favorable. Nevertheless, for a guy who hadn't hit that distance in nearly a year, I guess an improvement of 42 minutes in just my 2nd marathon aint too shabby. Maybe we'll get it next year.

In the meantime, where can I get that Viagra... ...

So while in recovery from back-to-back 42k's in two weeks (check out the route of my last training run here) in preparation for the upcoming Bataan Death March 102k Ultramarathon, obviously I can't run. No running = mind-numbing boredom. So in tribute to Sam the Running Ninja's infamous fly art opus, here's what I do when I'm completely and utterly bored :P

You hurt my family... . now I hurt you... .

The police couldnt not determine if it was death by scramble or poach

Oh the horror the horror

Ang tigas ng ulo mo!

Kung eto na ang ating mga huling sandali, gusto ko lang sabihin na I LAB YUaaaaaaaahhhhh

Team Edward or Team Jacob?

Run for your lives! It's the evil five-headed monster!

I... wanna rock and roll all night... .

John Lloyd and Bea in between takes

Backup, backup! Houston, we have a MAJOR problem here!!!

Iniwan daw ng girlpren, kaya tumalon. Kawawang bata.

Tama na! Sobra na! Makibaka mga kapatid! Lalaban tayo!

Somehow, Barack could feel that he wasn't so welcome here

This movie was so scary that... ..

... ..The whole gang yolked in their pants

Adios, Patria Adorada... ..

Have an Eggcellent day everyone :)

"To describe the agony of a marathon to someone who's never run it is like trying to explain color to someone who was born blind."- Hal Higdon, running coach

As of this writing, I am still recovering from the effects, both physical and emotional, of my first-ever marathon. Yes, my very first full mary. The big V word. Surprised? Yes, your fun Gingerbread scribe was a veritable newbie at the Condura Skyway Marathon. Although not a stranger to the distance having completed a 50k ultramarathon eons ago (okay maybe it was just last year), this was my first stab at racing a 42k. So how did it go? Let's do a quick backgrounder first.

Always the running event of the year

"The will to win means nothing if you haven't the will to prepare." - Juma Ikangaa, 1989 NYC Marathon winner

Having never actually "trained" for anything before and content to do mindless Gingerbread jagging with more emphasis on pacute than pakondisyon , I had planned for Condura to be my debut marathon as early as October. Using a program concocted by buddy/masochist/monster Edward Kho of Conquer Corregidor fame (he threw down a scintillating 3:27 by the way) , I proceeded to immerse myself in the so-called science of the sport. Tempo runs. Intervals. Ladders. Hill Work. Yasso 800's. Things that had sounded absolutely Greek to me became staples of my everyday routine.

Much to my surprise,the effects of the program were immediate and remarkably consistent. Each race seemed to incredibly usher in the advent of a new personal best. By the time that Condura beckoned, I had chopped 6 minutes off my 10k time and about 37 minutes from my 21k. Brimming with confidence, I had high hopes for my debut marathon. Feeling as good as I've felt in years, this Gingerbread newbie was ready to conquer that breezy, mid-morning party in the southern sky.

Newbies have it hard.

"The marathon can and will humble you. " - Bill Rodgers , four-time Boston Marathon winner

I really had no idea what to expect. Certain "scientific" calculations had me primed for a highly aspirational time based off my 10k and 21k results. But I had my doubts. While my speed work was fine, I had been remiss on my Sunday long runs - a byproduct of increasing family and work demands. The longest runs I had put in were two 30k dingers, and even if I felt in my gut that this was lacking, my innate stubbornness was telling me that my training and heart would somehow bring me home. Misguided naievity? But then again, this mindset has somehow paid dividends in the past. Let's see how the whole thing unravels with my retro race diary,I'll even put in a time stamp so it's like we're actually there.

Retro Race Diary?

2:30 : I wake up in a dazed, zombie-like state, the anxious effects of having roughly three hours and 37 seconds worth of sleep written all over my face. As with most newbies, I could barely sleep the night before. Tossed, turned, then eventually settled on watching an illicit copy of Spirit Of The Marathon. Thank God for YouTube. Much to my chagrin though, I didn't cry. Sob.

3:30 : With no traffic to contend with, I had an unexpectedly easy time parking. Hydrobelt? Check. Ipod? Check. Condura 2009 "street cred" spare shirt?Check. Wallet and license? Um, er, gulp. I'm screwed.

3:45 : After spending about 10 minutes getting lost looking for the starting corral, I finally saw my running buddies. Admittedly, I'm tense. Tight even. Too many thoughts going on in my head. Strategies. Nutrition. Pace. That Yeng Constantino song that's always on Love Radio. Fudge, I give up. I have come to the realization that I have absolutely no idea what I'm getting myself into. P.S- I got some grief for showing up in white shorts. UGH.

Yeng Constantino Fanboy?

4:00 : Well-modulated (and perhaps well-paid) host leads a fun countdown that seemed half a second behind. He must have been sleepy. It's funny how he prods people that "we have a wonderful surprise for you ", when it's so obvious that he's referring to a fireworks display to open the race. Anticlimactic to a certain extent, but made room for some unintentional comedy.

Host : 3, 2, 1... .. and now here's your surprise!

(eerie silence)

Host: Here! Game! Now na! Now! Now!

Fireworks are always fun though, awesome start to any race.

I love fireworks.
4:15 : For some insane reason, I thought I could hang with the big boys on this. I started with a pace group that included Junrox, Totoy, Chris and Wilnar, all certified monsters. Why the uncalled for bravado? Once again, I have to reiterate that I have no idea how to approach this. I'm a serial positive splitter in the short to middle distances. So I guess I was sticking close to home for this. Also, the idea was to maintain a 5:00- 5:10 minute pace for the first 21k, something not completely unattainable based from my previous results.

Note to self : Every time I'm with Wilnar in a pace group, something crazy happens. For instance, this 10k race in BF the plan was to open with a 4:30 min/km pace. Race begins. Less than 5 minutes later I can't breathe. Glance to watch - 3:45. Yeah!
So here , less than 3k into the race, I was straining. Not so much, but noticeable. Glance to watch - 4:30! 4:30!!! Whatever happened to 5:10? Wilnar has done it again! With a rabid fear of bottoming out later on, I motioned to the speedsters that I would be falling back.

And with labored b reathing defining my every step, I was all alone once more.
4:51 : 51 minute 10k. 3 minutes slower than usual. I think am doing good. I feel the pressure. I feel.. like I'm fading. What? No way! This early? As I go down to Buendia coming from Kalayaan, people are starting to catch up with me. What is going on? Seems the ol' mental makeup is shaky today. Team Hardcore Ultraman/Frontrunner Magazine progenitor Jonel "Bugobugo" Mendoza caught up with me, and it was a tremendous blessing that he was there. The pleasant conversation towed me through the near-entirety of Buendia, and for awhile things seemed... okay.

5:15 : Entering the Skyway. Being a 10k runner last year, this was my first time. And it sure was awesome. Well, until the part that I couldn't breathe anymore. Gasp. What to do what to do. Not good. Hey, my first and only time to be on the Skyway for free! Yipee! Gasp.

Conquering... . is easier said than done
5:30: Ominous statement of the day from some random guy who kept on talking to me on the road - "You're going too fast, you're going too fast! We have to take it slow or we burn out right away". Sounds like my ex-girlfriend on our first date. Smirk.

Let's take it slow? 5:39: They say that too much thinking can kill a man. And it's true. I fussed so much about my strategy that I ended up doing things I never really do. I walked all water stations, ostensibly to save on energy. But each time, the person I was running with was so far off that I couldn't catch up anymore. I felt my heart rate plummet every time I stopped. Something was going to go awry. I could feel it. Jonel disappeared from the horizon. So did Takbo.ph buddy Kampugers (don't judge me, it's a term of endearment) when I took a break. Panic was setting in. I was going nowhere real fast.

5:59 : Halfway mark. 1:59. In the vernacular, tipid na tipid? At nine minutes off my regular time, the prevailing mindset here is that the energy I'm conserving will get me through. Celebrity sighting : Jaymie/TBR. She looks awful strong out there. I could have sworn she was running with white compression shorts model/Runnr guru OJ. Gave a lame, token attempt to run with them, and poof! I eat dust. Note to self : Buy white compression shorts.

Classic OJ here.
6:30 : Pain (p

n) - An unpleasant sensation occurring in varying degrees of severity as a consequence of injury, disease, or emotional disorder.
Pain. Yeah. At roughly the 25k mark, I was in a lot of it. The pressure, over-analyzation, and a glaring lack of long runs most probably caused a way premature case of cramps and wall-bonking. Really odd. At Baldie Rizal Day 32k, at around the same point I felt I could have gone all day. Here, I was spent. As runner after runner passed me, the prospect of a strong finish was slowly slipping away.

What was really happening at 25k

7:00 : Getting hot. Am starting to slip into a dazed, zombie-like mode. Oftentimes, I'd try to latch on to people I know, casual conversation helps take your mind off the pain. Oftentimes I'd stop. Mentally, I'm in shambles. I thought I prepared well enough for this.

7:15 : I just realized for the first time that hey, it's nice here in the Skyway. Awesome even. I was so engrossed with all this competitive running-related crap that I'm starting to forget the little joys of our sport.

Find the joy in it GBM!
7:25 : Badly fading toward the latter stretch, I saw Condura boss Pat Concepcion along with his pseudo entourage. In a terrible daze, I willed myself to run with their group if only to get towed a kilometer or two.With the cameras rolling, he must have been wondering who was this weird character running behind him, posing for pictures even with a weird smile. Aaah the joys of Gingerbread anonymity.

It pays to be part of the Patcon entourage7:30 : Sound bite from Milo National finalist Vener/Run Unlimited nearing 32k - "Musta newbie? Tara let's go konti na lang! Mag 6mpk tayo!" As much as I wanted to, my legs had already gone to some Carribean island sipping ice tea on the beach while I had to drag their useless carasses around. Hmph.

7:50 : Oh thank God for the Takbo.ph aid station! Having manned this in the past, I was never really able to fully grasp the value of this altruistic initiative until I was on the receiving end. While experiencing a level of pain somewhere in between "roasting over hot coals" and "multiple astral projections", there's no better salve than warm smiles from supportive friends with a side helping of healthy encouragement. I was so warped by this point that when I ran into moody buddy/podium regular Zinnia on her bike, I have reason to believe this following conversation actually took place :

Z : Just a couple more meters to the aid station! We have stuff for you there!
GBM : Grunt. Uuuuuuh.
Z: Hoooooooy!! Are you okaaay?
GBM : Uuuuuuuuuh

Z : Anyway, just go there! Zombie!
I was so overjoyed to have recovering speedster Mac and an unknown, muscular man we shall just call "Manong" massage my weary legs. I guess it's the only time I'll ever thoroughly enjoy a massage given by two , er, men. Que handed me a banana, and Sir Amado's snapped up some pictures. All these served as a welcome respite, and I felt like I was on a rejuvenated high entering the homestretch.

Manong's steady hands did the trick8:20 : Kalayaan Flyover redux beckons. Been a worthy adversary on so many occassions. I think I've solved it though. But... . not... . on... .. this... . dang I gotta walk. Kalayaan Flyover 7, GBM 6.

8:30 : So near yet so far. Nearing collapse, I am dazed, confused, and running completely on empty.

8:40: This seems to be the longest 3km stretch of my life.Oh my god. You have got to be kidding me. When is it going to end? Just as I am about to sprawl on the pavement, I run into running bloggers Vicky (incredibly running a marathon on a whim! Awesome!) and hot bod Rodel/Argonaut. We are all pretty much in the same boat, literally crawling. Peace by inches. Have... . to... .. gut.. this... out.

8:45: Trying to fartlek my way home, I almost collapse into Argow, "Kristo" -style. I have absoulely nothing left to give.

8:55 : One last stab at glory, no way I'm finishing this like a cripple. Months of training leads to one last tempo run. One last burst of speed to bring it home. Don't give up now!

Last shot at glory... 8:56: And it's DONE! Yeah!!!!! Was never happier to see a finish line. The most agonizing 42.195 kms of my life done in 4:56:03. I wanted to cry... but the tears wouldn't come. Must have been the dehydration. The marathon has chewed me up, spit me in pieces and brought me to my knees. Friends say I am pale, and a massive headache follows. I can barely walk straight.

I missed my goal in a bad way.

But you know what they say about marathons? When you cross the finish line, no matter how slow or fast, it will change your life forever. And I firmly believe that. As all of this was starting to sink in, a stark realization suddenly dawned upon me. I'm... I'm a marathoner now! A real one! I'm now officially part of the .1 of 1% of the world's population to have finished one! The time doesn't even matter. What matters is I crossed that line in one piece in spite of the overwhelming urge to just flat out quit. I felt like I have left my blood, guts, and soul out there.
And at that exact moment, at that time and place, in spite of the terrible physical beating I took...

I was at peace. And overwhelmingly happy.

Guess that's the spirit of the marathon for you right there.

p.s. I can't wait to get back out there again :P