You all know the story. We have heard the rants. Internalized the numerous streams of venom put forth by the angry masses. Admittedly, I am one of them. The lack of foresight caused 57 runners in my category to DNF, the scorching heat too much for them. We could only guess what medical malady befell them. The same lack of foresight had my friend overcome by heat stroke and hyperventilation 500 meters from the finish line, resulting in a 2 hour stint at Makati Med. Ironically, if only the course had been accurate he should have finished it straight up. If there's one saving grace, they released results which took into account the excess 500 - 600 m on the route. The resulting distance adjustment gave me a PR of 2:14:36, which I hazard compensates for the initial time lost. Anyway, here was my after-race take on the whole thing as posted on the Takbo.ph forums : As has been customary for me already (and the lack of a blog notwithstanding), here's a comprehensive post on my Botak 21k race. A fair amount of vitriol has already been spewed by Deo and supahatdog in the earlier posts, so I'll give you my take on it. The first warning sign for me was when I heard from the gang that the 21k start time was 6 am bigla. Only 2 days before I had called the Botak office and was informed of a 5 am start. So I was sort of weirded out by that. Everyone was getting conflicting information. So I decided I'll arrive at 5am just to be sure. I was alarmed because at 6am, people would be running well into the 8 am - 9 am range already. Would this be a portent of things to come? So we started at 6 am. 5:58 on my 305. Attempted to pace Sam for 5k, he fell back at 1 1/2 k mark. First k was 4:35, 2nd k was 5:02. He was the only guy I remotely ran with. 97% of the race I was alone
At 10k mark I was at 55:34 and liking my chances. Running in Rockwell was neat as well, kahit uphill siya. Coming off a pretty nice run the previous week at ATC, my goal was to significantly improve my Greenfield PR of 2:19 something. Then it happened. What happened? The heat happened. Yes, the heat. Good ol' 32 degrees with 66% humidity. I never knew what the desert felt like until awhile ago. It was crippling, debilitating, paralyzing (I'm running out of adjectives) to the point of hilarity. At the 10k mark I was maintaining a healthy 5:30 or so pace. By the time the race was over I had surrendered a full minute off that
So what happened to me from 10k to 16k? - Hookers in Burgos waved at me. I waved back. - Jeepneys in Burgos nearly sideswiped me. I couldn't sideswipe back. - The area near South avenue I got several seemingly innocuous comments of "Japorms" from fun bystanders. - I had at least 2 guys (21k dudes also) ask me "Bakit ang dami mong tali?" (Does this mean they either got lost or took a shortcut? Guess the race marshals took off for colder fronts) - I had agonizing km splits reaching up to 8:24
So sue me, I couldn't breathe anymore, it was like the oxygen was sucked out of the surroundings already. My original plan was to pick up the pace from the 17k mark onwards and "earn back" the pace I had lost. I was marginally, nominally successful at best. The heat and humidity were too much. The best I could muster with all my might was a 6:25, followed by mid 7's till the end. From the 16- 21 k mark these were the sights : - Runners fighting the people at the water stations because there's no water - Runners walking Kalayaan Flyover - Runners walking everywhere - Runners quitting and sitting on the curb to take a break. - "Ang init no?" entrenching itself as the unintentional comedy quote of the day. - An "elite" looking guy (crew cut, short shorts) paced by me at the 18k mark and asked, "May tubig ka ba?" in a seemingly imposing and authoritative way. So I um, gave him the Gatorade I was saving for my final push. He muttered what seemed like a rudimentary form of "thank you" and promptly sped off. Nice guy. With the sun in all its bedazzling glory, for the first time in my life I have felt how it was to run in a desert with no breathable air. My goals suddenly shifted from setting a PR to merely getting out of there in one piece. It was debilitating to say the least. A test of sheer will if you may. In the cornucopia of things that make up the runner's psyche, one has to think "Should I go for broke and risk collapsing, or should I just focus on survival?" I was feeling horrible, I thought I would pass out several times. Mentally, I was pushed to the very limit. The death zone from 19k - 21k had "QUIT" written all over it. In the end, prudence won out over glory. In spite of the crushing circumstances, I was somehow blessed to finish the race at 2:17:28 chopping off 2 mins and 20 seconds off my current 21k PR. I felt horrible. And to make matters worse, when I crossed the finish line a kid was running recklessly towards me, causing me to jump to avoid him. This in turn triggered a strain in my hammy I still feel as I am typing this. Final Thoughts? - I will never ever run a 21k race that starts at 6am during the summer. - Running with jeeps beside you is not fun at all - The course was 21.47 on my 305. That's nearly half a kilometer. A half kilometer that translates into 3-4 minutes lost on your time. Sayang naman. - I was super worried about Doc Roy, Doc Sherwin, and Coach Pojie for their 42k run, given the punishing conditions and no water support. I am so happy and proud that they finished it in one piece and got their medals Way to go guys! - Congratulations to Edu for setting a new 10 K PR taking it in 56 something and finally breaching the 57 mark! Good job! - I am proud that other 21k runners like Deo,Boss Rico, Tim, Bong and Sam among others fought through the punishing elements to finish. Lesser men would have quit.Your determination and will is something that makes us all proud.
So the rain finally went away. Sigh. Would it be a good day today? Those thoughts crossed my head as I woke up at 3 am, anxiously anticipating the upcoming events of the day. I haven't run a 10k in awhile, and I would be trying to beat my PR for the distance. What was on today's race menu? The highly-anticipated Mizuno Infinity Run, touted by some to be even bigger than the industry benchmark Condura Run. Did it live up to the hype? Let us see for ourselves as the events of the day unfold.
Emeperador - 1, Tito Caloy - 0
The day started with a text message from running buddy/part-time uncle/full-time tomador Tito Caloy. In essence, he had gone drinking and obviously couldn't join the race. Oh great. That's 300 bucks lost off the bat. If he ever pays me, I'll treat you guys for taho. Promise! (don't keep your hopes up). So I ventured off to BHS alone, the silence of the sleepy metropolis an unwilling replacement to Tito Caloy's incessant pre-dawn chatter. I got there relatively early for the 10k check-in, rambling thoughts passing through my head as my anxiety level was rising by the minute.Oh man I'm alone. No one's here yet. Hey is that... . okay maybe not. Hmm they said it would be bigger than Condura? Maybe? Tito Caloy exchanged me for alcohol. I'm sleepy. Why do people wake up this early anyway? He'll never pay me. Wow they moved classes to the 22nd. I don't like this swine flu thing at all. Are people in this world really evil? Can I break my PR? I'm hungry and... The requisite hi/ hello/good luck from Takbo.ph regulars Edu and Rodel jarred me back into consciousness. By this time, the rest of the Takbo.ph gang began to file in. Nearly all of them were running the 15k. Looks like I would be waging another solitary battle here. As the 15k gun went off, the 30 minute countdown towards the 10k start seemed like an eternity. By virtue of me being really early, I was somehow stationed right in the front of the corral, a circumstantial, undeserved spot to say the least. Ansty and nervous at the same time, I attempted to strike some sort of coherent conversation with the runner next to me. Here' s the honest-to-goodness accurate transript of our conversation : Me: "Sir, buti tumigil ung ulan no?"Runner X : "Nga eh." Me: "Um, ano sir ung target ninyo ngayon?" Runner X: " Mga 40, ok na." Me: "Um, aaaah good luck sir! "Running on Empty While that went well, the gun went off. I was in 70's mode for the entire week, so the leadoff song on my iPod was Sumayaw Sumunod. While disco was blaring in my ears, I assessed how I would be approaching this. If the prevailing goal was to break 50 minutes, I would have to work around the 4:30 zone. With a mere 20 km worth of mileage this week, that ain't happening. I started out at 4:29, hitting 5:03 at the 3k mark. I was feeling gassed. Lack of mileage right there. I should buy a treadmill. Or be a member at these fancy gyms so I could use one.Anyway, at the Kalayaan Flyover I ran into Boggs, one of our students from UA&P and a speedy T2 regular. I asked hm what his target was, the response was sub-50. Can I pace with you? The answer was in the affirmative. 2km later he was about 400m from me already. I was zapped. Not happening. Not today. Nice kid though. You'd like him too. The Alchemy of Blood, Guts, and Condura Memories Past the turnaround point and going back up the Kalayaan Flyover, the route quickly evoked memories of the Condura Run. My first major race ever. I remember walking up the steep gradient of the killer flyover. I remembered wanting to quit. I remembered just plain quitting, the heat overpowering my psyche. This is so stupid. Maybe I can just go back to playing poker. At least I'll earn some cash. It's sooooo hot. My feet are killing me. Ayoko na. But if I quit now, I'll never live it down. So I soldiered on. I remembered digging deep within myself just to finish.The pain in my legs was excruciating . I was running on empty. I could hardly breathe. As I was fast fading at that very same flyover last Sunday, those powerful memories were flashing through my head at warp speed. Was I biting off more than I could chew? Am I way over my head in doing this? Does competitiveness have its limits? Is it a sin to strive to be the best at each and every thing you do? Fight or Flight My legs were on fire, the lungs all but out of it. I wanted to give up. But as I descended the Kalayaan Flyover while struggling my way into a 5:50 split, I realized that I only had about 3-4 km to go. Only 3-4 km of pain and sacrifice to go. I thought, just survive a couple more minutes of total exhaustion and you'll feel terrific about exorcising your demons for the rest of the week. I think that right there is the microcosm of "push" - when your body has absolutely nothing more to give and you unabashedly ask it to give more than it ever had.I ran that last 2km stretch, that very same area where I had walked not too long ago, like my life depended on it. I take pride in putting a premium on passion in my everyday travails, in leaving your heart out there on the playing field. It's fight or flight, and I chose to fight. Before I knew it, I could see the chute. Powerful Takbo.ph big man Mond passed me over the final 400m, I could give no more. But even as my body gave out its last hurrah, the clock glanced 51:30. Oh my. I had did it. Getting to the end of the chute, my 305 stopped at 51:38. I pumped my fist and was overjoyed at a blood and guts victory over the most daunting opponent of all.The Aftermath Truly, the whole team was blessed that day. Nearly everyone I talked with set a new PR. Among others, head honcho Jinoe took a new 15k PR, and Bong Z. hit his sub 55 target. I'm so happy because everyone is rapidly improving across the board. As with most of the runners, we were pleasantly surprised to receive a finisher's singlet instead of the advertised shirt. And it fits! In addition, Mizuno saved the biggest surprise for last, announcing that the race was actually a time trial in preparation for next year's event dubbed 1.10.10. The winners would be contingent on how much one had improved from this year's time. Truly, another coup from Mizuno, one that we would all be eagerly awaiting. Afterwards, the group went straight to Mcdonald's Net One for some much needed refueling, the place slowly becoming our favorite post-race BHS breakfast jaunt.
A sea of White, Black, Yellow, Blue... . and Orange?
Ellen and Doc Roy with Migz lurking
Natz, Doc Lyndon and Rico
Matinee idol/speedster Bong with Pepsi and Ms. Morrison
The "Hard Core" Takbo.ph team
Me with Second Wind proprietor/ultramarathoner Hector
Running Couple Neil and Rach at Mcdo Net One
Chillin' out after a messy Mcdo Breakfast So there. When all things were said and done, numerous PR's fell, sunny skies and even sunnier smiles abound. Despite the anxiety and sacrifice, despite the blood and guts spilled on the road and the overpowering urge to quit when you were beaten down to the ground... ... It turned out to be a good day after all. Tito Caloy Quote of The Day :
" Di ako makakasama sayo, ako'y niyaya, napilitan, napainom, napasubo" - On choosing Emperador over Mizuno
In running circles, the aformentioned icebreaker is almost always certain to come up in any conversation. The proverbial talking point's saliency is relative to the overall goals of the person addressing the query. Thus we could surmise that for some runners this question may seem completely irrelevant, while for others it takes on near-reverent status.
People run for different reasons. Some run to lose weight, some to beat themselves. Some run just for the cardio, while some just like to hang out for the company. That given,the key concept that I wish to postulate on pertains to when exactly does running cease to be fun, and our inherent competitive streak starts to kick in? Let us try to explore two distinct possibilities.
Conditioning. Could it be a simple matter of conditioning? Under this assumption, the moment a runner gets into better shape the PR's would essentially be transmuted into the be-all/end-all of the running experience. However, if this were accurate, then how could most people confirm the existence of the "blatantly out-of-shape yet uber competitive" runner types? Just some food for thought.
Personality. This goes to argue that people who have strong personalities tend to be more competitive towards their race results. However, I have personally met several runners who have an aggressive, competitive mentality off the road yet are completely timid on it. And vice versa as well. So what gives?
The looming question of where runners get their competitive edge is a tough one, bordering on a philosphical, paradoxical precipice. On that note I can offer you no answers. After reading the following entry though, I am hopefully leaving you with chunks of inquisitiveness that you could bite off and chew. I don't have any formulas, but your inputs could enlighten us towards a greater understanding of why we do what we do. With all the running going on, it never hurts to stop for awhile and think. Do it often enough, and you'll never look at "Pare, Ano PR Mo?" in the same light again.
One of those "Ondoyed" races a couple of months ago, the race promised a party atmosphere wherein runners would be dressing up as their favorite celebrities. So after doing a Saturday run, I had this impression that everyone would be wearing something.
I was seriously considering going as Coach Rio, if only under the notion that getting on his good side would afford me a glimpse into the sub-Piolo training program. The outfit was all set... ...
Stayin' Aliiiiiiiveeee... .
Then I realized if I would be racing this half- mary, the afro locks partnered with anticipated heat would not be a good mix...
So... .. hot. So never mind. I'll just go against the grain and show up... . normal. I picked up PBA 09' finalist/the-world-is-my-playground hottie Vicky Ras of Succulence Unleashed on the way , she lives practically next door to me. Light banter revealed that she would be doing a 5k. Driving hazily across the chilly pre-dawn morning, I learnt that our love lives were both co...
Oops. I forgot this was a sports/fun blog. Juicy details available in e-book download form, you could email your orders at juicydetailsofgbmlovelife@gingerbreadrunning.com. Visa, Mastercard, Paypal, G-Cash and LBC Smart Padala now accepted. :P
A Shoutout Start Once I got there, much to my chagrin (and admittedly, relief) I didn't see too many people dressed up as celebrities. Guess the shtick didn't fly. Good thing! Saw Timmy/ Kenkoy Runner and Jaymie/TBR on the way to the starting corral, and soon joined the usual Takbo.ph Kanto Boyz pace group. It would be Mark's final race as a single man (he's probably at the reception as I'm writing this), and I told him to "run like there's no tomorrow, because there ain't any", with the opening lines of Hadji Alejandro's "Panakip-Butas" suddenly blaring in my head for no apparent reason. ..
Girl... ikakasal ka nga ba... . Dinig ko'y kakasal ka buo nang isip mo... .
Okay that was weird. Why was it blaring in my head? Then I realized that the cheapo Mp3 player I have been using since my beloved Ipod got lost finally gave way. Poof. Gone. 3 months for 500 bucks.Hmm. Not bad. But GAK! That means I'll be running a race with no music for the first time. Oh nooo.
Who's gonna give me an Ipod for Christmas? :P After what seemed like a 15 minute delay, and people talking to themselves on the faraway stage (I later learned the PA system conked out) we were finally off.
Out of my League The first 3k was fun. Massively slimmed-down Takbo.ph celebrity Argow decided to pace with us a few, and come to think of it he actually started out faster than us. However, his fartleks to catch up as we approached Kalayaan flyover were a portent of things to come, and we soon lost him. At the rate he's going we may end up eating his dust in no time though. Original celebrity ninja dude Sam also got to hang with us for a bit as well, hell-bent on hitting his sub-2 hour 21k.
When the dust had settled, it was me and a rejuvenated Pat left to carry the fight. We were going through Ayala at an insane pace, so much to the point that this conversation had to take place :
GBM: Pat, bat ang bilis ata natin? Pat: (smiles) GBM: Um, yeah. Thanks Pat.
I had forgotten that I was pacing way out of my league here. When we got to hang for a bit with powerful Milo National Finalists Junrox/Tigerboy and Alfred/El Kyoshi , I knew that rarefied air was being breached here. Was biting off more than I could chew, no doubt about it. And when a 48:20 (beating my 10k PR by 13 seconds, imagine) came up on our 10k split as we brushed aside Kalayaan, it was virtually ensured that the frenetic pace would take its toll. And it did.
You're out of your league boy.
So you're a Fernando Zobel De Ayala Entourage Wannabe
Entering KM 15, I was all alone. And the fun was just starting. Good thing I saw my Takbo.ph friends along the way, that never fails to boost one's flagging spirits (not to mention tired feet). Out of nowhere I saw this European- looking guy zoom past me along with his coach. A quick look revealed that corporate mogul Fernando Zobel De Ayala was outracing me in one of my favorite distances. I tried to keep up, if only for the pride and zeal that comes with relative youth. For a while, I felt like I belonged. I was part of the Ayala Entourage. Alas, a 10k PR in a very tough half-mary course all but zapped my reserves. I had no choice but to lick my chops and accept that today, he was the better man. And off he went with his fancy coach, the driver,two yayas and a masseuse running at 5:10 pace.
All I ever wanted was to be part of the entourage... .
Of Pain, Plantars and Positive Splits
I have noticed that as of late, race directors have had the propensity to save the best for last, and that means putting the mighty Mckinley Hills towards the latter part of the race. By this time, I was gassed. A 75k week had rendered my shins and plantars very susceptible to um, pain. And it was showing. With no music to keep my mind off things, everything was being amplified by the nanosecond. By Km 18 I was limping around and I couldn't sprint the downhills anymore.
With about 2k to go I ran into Macky/ The Gleeman's Tale ,( one of the best writers out there IMHO) and by now it was a given that the race was going long. With one final burst of speed, we hit the 21k split at 1:51:05 on my 305, a new 21k PR for me. We then "jagged" to the finish line, much to the consternation of those who were oblivious to the excess distance and were sprinting like heck. Once again, my strategy of hanging with the big boys early and working off that lead paid dividends. Pat maintained his pace throughout and finished with an incredible 1:43, his best 21k finish if I'm not mistaken. Sam finally got his sub-2! And Tito Fernando must have finished in 1:47 or 1:48 by my rough estimate. Sub-Tito Fernando next time? (@,@)
The Aftermath Overall, had no major problems with the race, except for the fact that the distance was in excess of 1.2k. I think race director Ian Alacar ran into more problems with the shorter distances. People were jumping up and down with the 5k turnaround snafu (they didn't know where to go). From what I heard through the grapevine, one of the earlier, faster runners knocked down the sign. And bedlam ensued afterwards. Tough break. Also heard 10k distance was only 9.70. Not sure if this is true though. I've ran excellent races under him though, so I know that he'll bounce back, no doubt about it.
When times are tough,blame Sideshow Bob.
Still pretty happy with my performance, the need for more training beckons. Next target : Sub- Tito Fernando!
(As reprinted from the Philippine Star website)So you’re into this running thing now. Actually, who isn’t? From your usually crabby boss down to the stoic guy from IT who never talks, the common denominator is that their faces would light up at the mere mention of a “run”.And as you’re starting to get yourself acquainted with this new and exciting lifestyle, there will surely be times where you will be completely lost in this jargon and etiquette-intensive sport. Let me share with you a couple of simple tips for starters.
Before running... . you never really talked.
I Ran a 5k Marathon!
Okay, so you got excited. You just finished your first 5k race, and your adrenalin levels are at an all-time high. Next thing you know, you’re telling all your friends that you “just ran a 5k marathon”. While it may be a matter of pure semantics, “5k” and “marathon” do not belong in the same sentence, and may earn you a puzzled look or two from a seasoned runner. A marathon in the strictest sense is 42.195 kilometers , just a wee bit farther than your 5k. A lot of people train long and hard to be able to call themselves “marathoners”, so keep that in mind.
Hey Mom, these 5k marathons are fun!
Got PR?
Once you start running, you’ll hear a lot of it. In fact, you probably already have. A common one is the PR. Not Public Relations. Stands for your personal record, or your best time at a given distance. Note to self : It’s considered proper to NOT talk about this unless brought up beforehand, you may come off as boorish and arrogant.
Take it from Haile - better to keep your fancy times a secret unless asked
Singlets Galore
Singlet? What singlet? Well, it definitely has nothing to do with singing. In common running parlance it actually refers to your running “jersey” if you may call it that. All singlets are not created equal, mind you. Some are destined for the bottom shelf, while others are simply outstanding, like the one for the upcoming Adidas King of the Road race. The singlet alone will make it well worth the price of registration, just ask anyone in the running community.
I likeyy... ..
The beauty of being a newbie is that the moment is but fleeting - sooner or later you’ll be giving the same advice to the new kids on the block. As for now, allow us to bust your chops, and good luck with that 5k marathon!
Editor’s Note : Commonly known in running circles as Gingerbreadman, Luis Arcangel is one of the site moderators for Takbo.ph , the biggest running community in the country. His blog “The Gingerbread Report”, found at www.gingerbreadrunning.com., was recently nominated for the 2009 Philippine Blog Awards.
Some days, you wake up and you feel that it's going to be a wonderful day. On the flipside,some days there's just a dour aura of gloom pervading around you. For whatever it may be, I was lucky that just two Sundays ago it was the latter that came into play. The ATC Southern Run had a terrific setting, there was barely any heat around, and it seemed like the perfect day for a race. Here's my take on what happened as previously posted on the Takbo.ph forums : Ako I must admit I really had fun with this race. The venue, the whole atmosphere seemed very relaxed and highly conducive to running. The course itself was rolling up and down, which provided somewhat of a challenge to the fatigued
Started the race up front with ultraman PAt ( my goodness elite na to, 46 mins 29th place) Natz (another Takbo elite 47!!!) and Boss Jinoe (52 I think, new PR too lupet!) . I tried to pace with PAt, and suceeded in doing so for like 500 meters. He was like Usain Bolt out of the gates. The blazing start took me out of my rhythm. Wrong mistake. I learned that attempting to pace with someone way above your league isn't exactly the best thing to do. Although that first kilometer attempting to catch up with PAt amounted to a 4:40 lap, it took me out of my comfort zone and I need about 3 K's t0 recover. Boss Jinoe caught up with me at 4k mark I think, we paced until the 7k mark which was when broke away na. I was planning on making my move at the 8k mark, wasn't too confident if I could sustain a neg split pace that early. At the 8k mark I picked up the pace na, from a comfortably hard 5:40 I lowered it to 5"20, and last K was 5:05. My goal for the race was a sub-55 finish, which was somewhat of a stretch. Sabi ko kahit madaplisan lang ang 55 okay na ako. But perhaps a combination of real running shoes (goodbye Mr. Quickie! Not PINK NB's!), a 305 to help me strategize and more mileage helped me immensely. I was so happy to cross the line at 53:40, a time that once seemed like an impossibility for me. My first 10k race I finished at 1:28. I'm so happy. It's like all the hard work, the "getting roasted in the sun because you started your 20k run at 5am" sacrifices were all worth it. And it made me believe na it's possible pala for average athletes like me to realistically lower PR's over time. Dati kasi I used to think it's either you have it or not. Of course, hanging out with the Takbo.ph gang made it all the more special. The kulitan pictures and the camaraderie truly made it worth the long drive. Happy runner here
Congrats everyone
I'd upload my run but MotionBased aint working now
Before we even start with this, I'll be blunt - I was never really an Adidas kinda guy. My last Adidas shoe was the Kobe shoe shaped like a foot during the late 90's. Got injured bad with it. Thought it looked cool though. Thus I was armed with this intrinsic, subliminal (albeit unrequited) disdain as I entered the Adidas AdiZero presser.
Up for the challenge?My curiosity was piqued when Quincy of Greenbulb PR emailed me the invite, a hotwired "challenge" built in to the event. The spin is that the Adizero series is the lightest in its class, so bring your running shoes, if it's heavier than 265 grams they'll give you a 20% discount. By default you would think that they'd give you a discount if it were lighter, but hey we're getting ahead of ourselves. Just think of it this way - if these shoes would allow Takbo.ph head honcho Jinoe to beat Haile Gebrselassie in a 10k, they're worth giving a second look right?
Eat my dust Haile!But before the whole thing started... .. GBM (at the entrance of Greenbelt 3 fronting the pond) : Manong , where is the Adidas store located?Manong Guard : Ay wala na ho dito yan, nasa Greenbelt 5 yan.GBM: Huh, my contact person specifically said Greenbelt 3.MG: Ay wala na nga ho yan, matagal na. Dati nanjan ngayon wala na.GBM: Are you sure?MG: Oo nga, kahit pagbaliktarin mo pa to, nilipat na nga.GBM: Okay hmph , okay I'll take your word for it.
Crabby GuyGBM (at the Greenbelt 5 entrance) : Boss, where is the Adidas store located here?Fancy SG : Oh no sir, we don't have that store here. It is actually in Greenbelt 3.GBM (woah) : Um, seriously? The guy in Greenbelt 3 said it was here!FSG : I do apologize for that sir. It happens with the goofs over there. They have... slightly different training from us. Do you want me to personally escort you to the Adidas store?GBM: Oh that won't be necessary , you guys sure do things .. differently here in Greenbelt 5!FSG: You betcha sir! Have a wonderful day, and don't hesitate to approach me should you have any other concerns.GBM: !!!!
Greenbelt 5 guards are... differentGBM(Back in Greenbelt 3) : The guard at Greenbelt 5 said it was here!SG: Wala nga dito! Kahit saan ka tumingin dito, wala dito!GBM: (walks about 40 feet from entrance, sees Adidas store to his left, goes back to guard)So what do you call that ginormous Adidas store about 40 feet from where you're standing?SG: Ah, eh, um, Ehhhhh. Bago siguro yan! Bago! Ngayon ko lang nakita yan! Wala yan dati!Senior Security Guard : Ser, first day lang ho niyan pagpasensiyahan ninyo na... .GBM: !!!!
Uh, er, hehe, um SORRY ser?The Launch Proper Once I finally extricated myself from that mess a wee bit perturbed, I made my way back to the store. Among the blogging luminary sightings (:P) Takbo.ph bossing Jinoe , Jaymie/TBR, idol Vener, and sir Rene/Jazzrunner were among the early birds. Bromance buddy Rico/Sheer Will, Sam The Running Ninja, Running Diva Roselle and Jay/Prometheus Cometh along with Marga/Alaskadora got there a little bit later. Nice store, impeccably decked out. Was warmly welcomed by PR guy/erstwhile textmate Quincy. Turns out he was about 5 batches lower than me in DLSU. Oh the trappings of old age.
Yes it's lighter!
Dreaming of how it would be to run in these shoes... .
Jinoe and Jaymie hanging out before the "weigh in"
Sam and Roselle catch up with the gangThe Products Youthful looking Adidas marketing boss Xavier was on hand to explain the nuances of the different products. Touted as the lightest in their class, these shoes were the same ones worn by Haile Gebrselassie when he broke his own world record at the Berlin Marathon, the first sub- 2:04 marathon time in history. There are three main models in the series - Aegis, Tempo, and Boston. What do these have to offer? Let's take a look.
"Back when I was in college, which was like last year , I always thought Adidas was the best"Adizero Aegis
The Official Word :A faster, sleeker lightweight trainer which is designed with ForMotion upper and a ground-adapting 3D Formtion unit for smoother, more natural touchdowns at high speeds. Airmesh provides maximum ventilation. A moulded respEVA sockliner for greater step-in comfort while an extended Torsion System bar gives heel and midfoot stability.What that means : These are shoes which would provide the speed of a typical racer while providing much needed stability for midfoot strikers. The advantage? It's reputed to be lighter than anything else on the market within its class hence you'll be faster. Follow the logic?Adizero Boston
The Official Word : This is a competition long-distance running shoe intended for serious runners. Once again, the air mesh upper gives maximum ventilation while the dual-layer Adlite/respoEVA sockliner give great step in comfort, an extended Torsion System bar gives heel and midfoot stability, and adiPrene in the forefoot and heel provide max cushioning.What that Means : Essentially, it's the model in the series built for longer distance runs as it provides more cushioning and stability. Planning to run a marathon at 2:57 pace just like Haile without developing plantar fasciitis in the process? While that's pretty much unrealistic, if you're a competitive runner who's looking for an edge then this is the shoe for you.AdiZero Tempo
The Official Word Without a doubt the lightest in its class, the Tempo provides all the benefits of the two others in the series, only difference is that the midsole is built around two plastic heel plates that slow side-to-side movement, giving the shoe additional rearfoot support. A firm section of foam in the shoe's forefoot provides a solid base for toe-off.What That Means : Quite simply, all the benefits of an ultralight racer for the faster paced, high- arch people or for the neutrals who need a tempo run/speedwork day shoe. Very light, and provides enough stability for good measure. The Weigh In As niceties were exchanged, we were ushered to the main area by the emcee's well-modulated (promise) voice. The official "weigh- in" challenge was to commence. Among others, Jaymie put up her Lunar Glides and Jinoe his Mizuno Ronins to the test. Both shoes were , as the well-modulated guy put it awkwardly, "DEFINITELY Lighter" than the 265 gram challenge weight. Okay. As that made for some unneccesary weirdness, nice guy Xavier qualified the whole thing by explaining that the Ronins and Lunar Glides were classified as flat racers, and that their claim was only limited to within its class.
It's definitely lighter!
Not again!He explained that the Adizero Rocket would be the equivalent of these shoes. Much like P.T. Barnum playing to the crowd, the Rocket was propositioned for a weigh-in. Lo and behold, it came in at a Liliputian 190 grams, sending shocked murmurs amongst those present. I doubt if those present have ever heard of a shoe that light. The running denizens were definitely impressed.GBM Takes on the Challenge I brought my own size 12 NB 848 light stabs just for fun. It looked so um, big compared to the Adizeroes. How much did it weigh against the 265 gram standard? 375 grams. Eeek! :) But Rico pointed out that his shoes were even heavier, so I guess the Adizeroes really blow away all competition in the "lightness" genre. So if you're part of that school of thought who equate lightness = speed = better times, you know where to go.Adidas has an ongoing promo from July 17 to September 22, with their Greenbelt and Trinoma flagship stores involved. Three packages to choose from -
Package A- Get 15% off when you buy a running top + bottom and receive a FREE adidas marathon diary.
Package B- Get 15% off a pair of running shoes (includes mi adidas) and receive a FREE adidas marathon diary.
Package C- Get 25% off when you buy a running top + bottom + shoes (includes mi adidas) and receive a FREE adidas marathon diary.
I'll see if I could give you guys a more comprehensive review of the AdiZero line in the upcoming days. Watch out for it!
Epilogue
GBM (on the way out) : Boss, may I know where the men's room is?
SG: Ah wala hong CR dito, sa Greenbelt 5 pa ho ung pinakamalapit.
GBM : Oh Lord not again... ... ..
That's All Folks!
Phlippine Blog Awards Verification Code : PBA096337q4p
As my previous post stated, I was harassed to death last week. Zero mileage. Didn't run at all. Still in iffy recovery from Botak Ultra. But me being me, I just had to take a swipe at it. A shot at a 21k PR on a chip-timed raced cutting through Ayala was way too juicy for me to resist. Just had to. Recipe for Disaster? Let's see how this morning's proceedings unfolded.
Not today GBM.
Pre- Race, 4:30 am
GBM : Tito, wake up! Tito Caloy : Gising na ako! GBM: Seriously? Tito Caloy : Eh di pa ako natutulog! GBM: Why would you do that? We have a race! Tito Caloy : Ang ganda nung palabas sa Cinema One alangya yung kay Richard, Eskapo! Di ako natulog eh! GBM:!!! Ugh, see you in ten. Tito Caloy : Ayos cge ipapakita ko sayo ung bagong sapatos ko Adidas running na running ang dating! 6 tawsan bili ko! GBM : !!!
He'd rather sleep in the car
Km 1 - 10 . Great things start from small beginnings?
When we got to the starting line, the race was just minutes away from starting. The rowdy gang helped fuel the electric atmosphere, the looming excitement of an actual chip-timed race bursting through the seams. It was funny really, because you saw people sprinting, then stopping, at the mat.
I though I had the strategy down pat. But I was wrong. Obviously, barely running in the two weeks prior took its toll. Also, something I read in BR's blog was nagging at me as I was racing through the first 10 kilometers. After an ultra, you will definitely lose some speed. You need to get back to tempo training. Well, not only have I NOT done any tempo training. In fact I haven't run at all. So logically, it's going to turn out pretty badly. My wind wasn't there. But it still wasn't half bad though.
At the 5k mark, I registered 25:32. At the 10k mark, slight fade at 55:30 but pace was still in contention for my goals. I'm at least 4 minutes off my usual 10k pace but I was thinking (or at least trying to convince myself) that I was merely "pacing". Since when did a positive splitter "pace" the first half of the race though? Still, I felt I could hang on. Seeing the rest of the team on the initial loop had me thinking I'm doing decently. I thought I was on the way to a good day... .
10k - 14k. Disaster strikes.
At the 10k mark I'm starting to slow down. Oh no. But not a major dropoff. Noticeable. Come Kalayaan flyover , my "vaunted" incline skills had deserted me. Then I realized it has been nearly a month since I have hit the St. Martin slopes. So much for that. Still, I felt I could ride the fade. Second wind would push me through. Just get me past the Kalayaan flyover and I'll take care of it in the flats. Then IT happened. At the 14k mark, I stopped for some 100 Plus on the water station, then sprinted away. The abrupt start/stop brought about a searing pain on the side of my knee that was too great too ignore. I tried to run it off, but I couldn't put any weight on it. I tried walking it off, the pain was just exacerbated. I tried stopping and stretching. It went from bad to worse. My pace had dropped down to 7/km now. Oh no. This ain't happening. We are doing so well. Just 7 k more to a new PR! My pace was down to a 5:45 now. Still salveagable. But the pain. Oh the pain. Add to this the mental strain of people passing you. So many people. I had to stop. Walk. Ouch. More ouch. When Takbo.ph rookie and Jumbo Liempo friend Pio overtook me, I was both happy for him and panicking inside. My hard earned lead was slipping away. Big Time. I saw main man Bong Z, slimmed-down Timmy and monster Ed pass me. When rookie/nice guy James paced with me for a while, and when I couldn't even sustain what felt was an 8/km pace and he had to leave me behind, I knew that was a veritable death knell. As I entered the inclines of Bayani Road, a site of successes past, a former sanctuary turned Death Valley.
I can't run anymore. Dammit. I want to cry. But then that would affect my macho image. Arrgh. I want to run! I can't! Everyone's asking what the crap happened to me. Rod and Carlo just passed me. Ain't it great when you have friends who show genuine concern for you? But argh. I'll try to run again... ARGH ouch ouch. I can't. Sob. This sucks. I want ... to... quit? =,(
The spectre of my first ever DNF was very much real. The pain was pretty significant at this point. Each attempt to try and gut it out ended up bringing more pain. At least the last 5k of Botak ultra I was still able to run. This... . I simply couldn't. Add to this the strain of everyone passing my sorry carcass. Let me let you in on a little secret. I hate being passed. It gets to me. I'm a competitive guy, not just in running. But here, I was crumbling amidst the throes of my own mortality. It's hard to express in words the combined feeling of frustration, disappointment, exhaustion and pain that I was going through. It's barely 14k and change. How the heck can I get to the finish line when I can barely even walk anymore?
14k-21k. A friend in need... . is a friend indeed.
As I was losing hope exponentially by the minute, I was suddenly witness to the fact that life's little blessings come when you least expect it. As I had completely given up hope, along came training/pace buddy/carpool mate Bong Yu. He saw me struggling. Told him I wanted to quit. He could have left me, he has his own race to run. But in the spirit of friendship and supreme sacrifice, he told me he would keep me company! Unthinkable! You would sacrifice your race for me? Yeah why not, I'm still in recovery from Milo 42k anyway. Oh man. I was overwhelmed. Bong encouraged me to just keep my head high. There are other races. Stop trying to run, what will you achieve? It ain't even worth it. You don't have to keep on proving yourself over and over again. You need a break anyway. Stand straight when there are girls passing by so that you keep your poise and still look macho. Maybe they'll think we're 8 minute pacers or something. Ran into a real pacer, Second Wind proprietor/running sage Hector who stopped and gave me some advice on the injury along with some words of encouragement.
The 7k trek to the line was painful. The encouragement and light conversation made me feel so much better. Everyone was passing us at this point. Even Mary Genie passed us. We found it amusing that she was ahead of Tito Caloy, Coach and Neil . Good ol' Tito Caloy was gloating over the first ever time he would get ahead of me in a race. Okay maybe not. But he was genuinely concerned. Didn't matter anymore. I was good. Happy that a friend was actually there for me. As the sun was beating down, a 15/km walk pace told me that we would cover a mere 3k in 45 mins. Eek. As we neared the finish line, the rest of the Takbo.ph boys helped us pace the final km for added support. It looked like a scene from the Beat It video as we were approaching the finish line.
Now that's what you call team support!
Couldn't have done it without this guy.
As racuous cheers from the Takbo.ph gallery met two fallen gladiators, I couldn't help but wonder that in spite of my worst-ever finish, in spite of having to suffer the ignominy of walking the last 7k and limping through the finish line, I was actually happy. Happy that I didn't DNF when it was the easiest choice I could have ever made.Happy to see that in actuality, the spirit of friendship trumps the spirit of competitiveness when circumstances call for it. Lessons will be learnt from this race, and while my injury is showing blatant signs of ITBS I am hopeful for a strong comeback. I am truly thankful for being blessed with good friends who keep on popping up at an opportune time and help me get through. One day I'll make it up to you guys. Some days you just don't have it.
But on some days... .
It doesn't really matter at all.
Tito Caloy Quote of the Day:
"Habang tumatakbo ako meron kaming dalawang chiks na nakasalubong sabay sabi 'Hi Tito Caloy'! Ayos diba? Kahit di ko kakilala nag hi na din ako eh!"- On enjoying the trappings of newfound internet fame Philippine Blog Awards Verification Code : PBA09r4qqo72
As usual, am late with my article (x_x) But heck, I'll still post it so let's keep it short and sweet (I'll try no promises) As you may or may not know, last year's vaunted Conquer Corregidor 10-miler race is back with a vengeance. But race director Edward Kho would be doing everybody a disservice if he came up with the exact same thing right? So this year, he made the course even harder, extended it a couple of kilometers, put in some cool events before and after, and voila - you have this year's Corregidor International Half Marathon.
Coolness.
The salient points of the race were explained during the fancy presser amidst a cruise around Manila Bay with the usual suspects in attendance. There was even a Bearwin sighting, good job in dropping something like 20 pounds. As the world-class sunset that practically no one ever gets to see came to the fore, I just realized that's it's been a year already since we did the inaugural test run as the race was still under conceptualization. Sigh. Time flies by so fast.
Beautiful. You see, this isn't just some random race presser for me. This is special. My Garmin helped measure the distance on that original route. I even gave out TBR magazines to the people during the cruise going to the island (yeah Jaymie, I really did. Like some flight attendant dude. I was half waiting for someone to ask for more coffee or to fluff their pillow)
Been a year already? Point is, in one way or another I somehow feel a close affinity to this race, and I can't help but revel in how it has come back, at on paper, better than ever. Some straight talk - this isn't an easy course by any means. "Hard" may be an understatement as inclines reach a 60 degree gradient, which renders St. Martin Ortigas much akin to the kiddie pool. If you're looking to set a PR with this race, better immerse yourself in the free training programs that Ed Kho would be giving away as a value added service. This course ain't for the faint of heart, but it's the perfect avenue for budding intermediate level runners to test themselves. The dramatic backdrops are but mere gravy.
Intense.
Learn to endure. Rather than spoil the fun by giving you a history lesson, I'll tell you what to expect on December 19. First off, it's a bit on the pricey side. P2,500. Now that we got that out of the way, why in the bejesus are they charging you P2,500?
It includes your round-trip transpo. Just like last year, you can opt to do overnight or a day trip. For overnighters, you can do tours, ziplines, and there would be a nice carbo-loading party by a bonfire. For those who will make sulit the vacation by staying another night, you'll be rewarded with a victory party with top bands performing. Niiiice.
What fun. It gives out a medallion. Not a medal. You heard that right. A medallion. Not your run of the mill tanso medal, but the real deal. Thick. Heavy. Eye candy. Can you pawn it? Shame on you.
Yum. Even if you suck out, you still get something. No cutoff times, but there's a "curfew time" at the halfway mark of 1:45. Come on, a 1:45 10k? Of course you can do that. Best part is, even if you DNF, you'll still get a 10k "achievement medal". Because quite frankly, even just a 10k on that course is an achievement already.
Dri-fit Shirts. Who doesn't love drifit shirts? They're cool. They're comfy. You'll wear them during the race. And on the way home. And after your training run with your buds. And to the mall. And to the... you get the picture.
I like.RFID Timing Chip. Better than the "hula hula" barcode system. You and your buds won't have to debate about "ah kasi kaya ka lang naka PR kasi sobra ng 200 meters ung course, teka icalculate ko muna" Happens more often than you think.
Athletes Backpack. The only bag you'll be allowed to check in, lots of pockets and partitions custom made for runners. You even get to display a replica of your bib number for extra pogi points. Feeling Olympic athlete, kahit for a weekend lang diba.
Why didn't they give me this last year !
Personalized Race Certificate with Name and Time. Name me the last race that gave you a personalized finisher's cert. Yeah, thought so too. Your office mates will finally believe that you're a runner, hooray.
I can harp on and on about it, and you can whine and whine about how expensive it is, but the fact of the matter is, given the setting, difficulty level, an d vacation potential/Facebook bragging rights all rolled into one, it's a terrific buy. Slots are very limited, and last year there was a mad dash for race kits towards the end. I highly suggest you register as early as possible.
Here's the part where I shamelessly copy paste the registration procedure. Check it out.
Registration Venue and Period:all weekends (Saturday and Sunday only) of October and November, subject to slot availabilityRUNNR ( Boni High Street ) Saturday and Sunday, 2pm to 9pm Second Wind (Maginhawa) Saturday only, 1pm to 6pm Second Wind (Ortigas Home Depo) Saturday only, 1pm to 6pm on-line registration facility (for participants residing abroad and outside Metro Manila) will be up on October 9, 2010Registration fee: P2,500.00 - until October (early registration) P3,000.00 - until November (late registration)Race Registration inclusions:Roundtrip ferry to and from Corregidor Full lunch buffet on race day Race bib w/ RFID timing chip Race shirt Race backpack Finisher's Medallion (or a 10k Achiever Medal) Runners' Briefing (Dec 4 and 11) at ROX Carbo-loading Bonfire Party (Dec 18, Saturday night)Victory Party with two top performing bands (Dec 19, Sunday night)Personalized Finishers' Certificate (complete with name and finish time)
Race Registration Procedures: 1) After completing registration for the race (manual or on-line), beginningthe following Monday, contact Sun Cruises at 8346857/8346858/5275555 loc 4511 0r 4512.
2) Indicate the desired trip schedule: a) Overnight – departure on Dec 18 @ 8:30am (return trip to Manila ison Dec 19 via 2:30pm trip from Corregidor*) b) Day trip – departure on Dec 19 @ 5:30am (return trip to Manila is Dec19 via 5:30pm trip from Corregidor*) c) Participants with non-competing companions (non-competingcompanions will have to pay Php2,000.00/person; no race packwill be provided to them) will have to take the Dec 18, 11:30am tripto Corregidor (return trip to Manila is on Dec 20, Monday, via 10:00amtrip from Corregidor. * for “a)” and “b)” indicate if attending the Solidarity & Victory Party on the night of December 19 to amend departure schedule to Monday, Dec 20 via 10:00am trip from Corregidor.
3) If applicable, make accommodations reservation with Sun Cruises (onlyregistered participants will be given reservations). Pay the appropriateaccommodations booking amount through the payment mode advised bySun Cruises.
4) On Dec 4 or 11 (as advised through email and text by the organizers) atROX, attend the Runners’ Briefing, pick-up the race pack, and claim theBoarding Pass and/or Accommodations Booking ticket from Sun Cruises.Ensure to bring the Acknowledgement Receipt issued duringregistration. No Acknowledgement Receipt, No Race Pack.
Race Registration Requirements:1) Properly filled out registration form (may be downloaded by Friday / available at the registration site) 2) Any valid ID (driver's licence, SSS ID, voter's ID, postal ID, passport, etc.) indicating date of birth 3) Proof of participation in a 10k race (during the last 2 months prior to registration) or 21k race (during the last 3 months prior to registration), or a full marathon (during the last 6 months prior to registration) or a doctor's certification of fitness to participate in an athletic event. For proof of race participation, a printout of the particular race result is preferable. In lieu of that, race bib will be accepted but will be subject to verification through the race results available on-line. 4) Applicable registration fee.Before we go, I'll leave you with some video snippets of what's in store for you.
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.
Last Sunday, all roads led to The Fort as the heavily anticipated New Balance Power Race was finally coming to fruition. Ondoy's onslaught had postponed the race from it's original Sept.27 playdate, and this gave me an opportunity to get myself a slot. As some of you may know, much to my chagrin I had missed the original registration cut, which then compelled me to make the infamous "Hitler finds out he didn't make it to New Balance" video.
I approached the race with a lot of enthusiasm as I would be joining a pace group for the first time ever. This emanated from a conversation on the Takbo.ph shoutbox, which sort of went like this :
GBM : Target ko mga 1:55 ayos nako dun. 1:57 ung PR ko, medjo sagad na. VVinceth: Kaya yan sub 1:50. 1:45 pa nga. Even splits lang tayo, 5:10 pace lang yan!jix_jixee : Uy ayos yan sama ako!markhernz: Ganun ba? Kaya yan! Game! TheRunningNinja: Game ako kahit saan, walang inuurungan!GBM: !!!!!!
Meet the Gang And thus, this ragtag pace group was born. I was hoping that running within a field of excellence, I would be prevailed upon to deliver a performance far beyond the realm of my capabilities. Hence, without further ado, let me introduce you to the members of my NB PAce Group :
Pat aka VVinceth/ The Running Safety Pin
With Bunnyyy Our de facto anchor, Pat is easily the fastest and best-credentialed runner within the group. 45 minute 10k's and sub 1:45 minute 21k's are a relative walk in the park for him. It was with his relative optimism that we were actually enjoined to gun for a time that seemed to be way beyond my capabilities. Likes long walks on the beach and bunnies.
Jix aka Jix_Jixee Another known Takbo.ph speedster whose relative pace is always about 5 minutes faster than my own, it is intended that his speedy ways would tow us to victory specially in the latter stages. His favorite movie is "The Notebook", and has an inherent dislike for Piolo that science alone could not explain.
He not likey Piolo either... Mark aka Markhernz/Running my Mouth In just a few short months, this naturally athletic dude has not only jumped from a 5k to a full marathon, but has posted times most people only dream of in their lifetime. He has a penchant for not finding baggage counters, and is a full-blooded Lasallian (useless trivia)
Masel Man Mark Sam aka TheRunningNinja If other pace groups have celebrities like Jaime Zobel deAyala or Tessa Prieto, we have our own celebrity! And he is none other than... Sam the Running Ninja! One of the most recognizable faces in the blogosphere, it never hurts to have him around :P He likes fast cars, and doesn't like motorcycles, hospitals, and Gas station restrooms.
Celebrity Ninja
Starting Corral Excitement was milling at the starting corral as the 21k runners were herded en masse. I was quite happy that Extribe was enforcing the "no check-in, no-entry rule", much in the same way that Condura does it. This makes for a much more orderly assembly. +1 brownie point to them. As Mark, Sam, and myself squeezed ourselves towards the front of the pack, we realized that Pat and Jix would be banditing the race. Sweet.
Brownie point! Fun Starting Um, Horn? As people were revving up for the starting gun, the runners spontaneously burst into laughter as the start of the race was ushered in by... a foghorn. Ooooh. Good vibes.
Foghorns = Quick Laughs
A Blistering Start The first 10k was highlighted by Pat's even split strategy reaping dividends for our group, as we covered the first 10k below 50 minutes. This had me questioning my positive splitting ways, as I essentially achieved the same result - without feeling like dying after. We gradually lost track of Mark after the 6k point, and Sam was startling the crap out of us with his "fartlek-the-hills-then-grunt-like-the-Olympic-hammer-throw-champion strategy". Apparently, this primal act (like any other) zaps the energy out of even the best of them, and by the 10th kilometer turnaround our celebrity buddy had dropped behind, leaving Pat, Jix, and myself to carry the cudgels for our group.
Primal screams... are fun.
Surpise Surprise!
In a minor shocker, speedy Jix was fading badly at the onset of the Bayani Road inclines. When one of your best runners starts to labor with the route, oftentimes your thought process would get inundiated with self-doubt. Hey, if he's fading, I've got to be next. Which brings us to the next portion of this paragraph, the "Why Did Jixee Fade At NB" contest.
Could it be :
1. He had a hot date the night before who made him mutter "Running Sux" 100 times 2. His date promised him "favors" if he accomplished #1 while finishing an entire bottle of Patron in less than 30 minutes 3. In offering the proverbial olive branch, Piolo offered to hook him up with his Kapamilya friends if he stopped pacing this GBM character, if only to make his future 21k target a lot easier.
Send in your entries, correct answer gets a prize. I'll ask Jixee the answer... ... .tomorrow.
Piolo has done it again!
And Then There Were TwoWith Jix gone, it was up to me and Pat to navigate the course. Having ran with Pat numerous times in the past, including the Botak Ultramarathon, this was not unfamiliar territory. As pacers go, it's terrific to have someone like the Energizer Bunny to drag you along when you're starting to slack off. The heat was starting to set in, and I needed all of the help that I could get.
Keeps going... . and going... and going... .All By Myself... . Heading up to somewhere around the 13th or 14th km, cruise control mode was suddenly jarred when Ultraman Pat said "Una ka na". I thought, this was bordering on absurdity. No way Pat could fade, I mean, this is a guy that eats 100k for breakfast. I comforted myself in thinking this was a ploy with deeper profound meaning. In retrospect, I should have kept in mind that Pat was tapering for his Singapore marathon the following week. But at that point, with the heat of the sun beating down on me, this took me off my game plan. I had my work cut out for me then.
What's up Master Pat's sleeve?The Exag Hills From that point on, I would only see Pat one more time. He would fartlek to me, then fade back. Still no idea why he was doing that at the time. But i was steeling myself for the long haul. We had built enough of a cushion that I was on pace for a 1:49 or 1:50 finish if I kept my act together. But then... . the hills happened. Wow. These people know their stuff. What were they thinking?
Cut scene to Extribe Route Formulation Meeting over drinks
Extribe Person #1 : Why not at the end, let's add one loop around Mckinley? Drunk Extribe Person #2 : Weeeeeh. That's sooooo generic. Make it two! Bwahahahaah. Sadistic and Drunk Extribe Person # 3 : Whatever! I ain't running anyway! I hate athletic people! Make it three! Bwahahahahaahah! Chorus: Bwahahaahahahahahahaha!!!!
Scene at Extribe before finalizing race routeSo to make a long story short, they saved the hardest part of the race for last. We did practically three loops around that hilly area in Mckinley stretching to the British embassy and Enderun. Ugh. Under the beating heat of the sun,I surrendered three fat mid-6ish splits towards the end, and our hard-built lead was gone. Thankfully, it was still still substantial enough to snag me a 1:54:01 finish, good enough for a new 21k PR and 111th place amongst a very tough field of more than a 1,000 half-marathon runners. If we had hit out target 1:50 or below, that would have been good enough for somewhere around 70th place. As I said, tough crowd... because at QCIM my 1:57 was good for 47th place. More training! :)
Exhausted Gingerbread folk near the finish courtesy of the irrepresible BR blog Overall, kudos to Extribe for a good, albeit sadistic job on this race.Seriously though, I had no complaints whatsoever, this was as good as it gets in terms of race organization. Better known for their multisport events, Extribe is slowly building strong brand equity in the running scene. All of their races that I have ran so far have been very good. I know there was a slight snafu with the 10k route, a mystery that has since been solved. With all things said and done, I'm pretty sure good ol' Hitler is churning in his grave now for missing one heck of a race. :P
By the time you have read this, a lot of us running denizens still haven't quite recovered from the shock of the untimely death of Remus Fuentes in the recently concluded Milo 21k Eliminations. Fingers have been pointed, tributes have been offered, politicians have requested for inquiries. Some naysayers have even went out on a limb in professing that the incident may spur the downfall of running in the country. While that's extremely far-fetched, it sure got a lot of people thinking, specially those of the too-much-too-soon breed (I was a prime specie btw). I mean, if an able-bodied, intermediate-level runner could tragically succumb so close to the finish line, does that mean all of us are at risk?
Hank Gathers was destined to be the #1 pick in the NBA, then without warning he collapsed and died on the hard court.
Given all the training we put in for these races, we obviously feel awesome. But is that a guarantee we'll all come home safe and sound? A study made in a top clinical journal stated that the risk of a runner succumbing to a heart attack during or after a race is roughly 1 in every 50,000. Another study, this time based on twenty years worth of research, says that 1 in 67,414 runners succumb to sudden death (representing 1 in 2,000,000 miles run). That means that marathon running is really no different from other daily activities.
But the deaths persist. The last one in Milo prior to this was in 2007, just before the boom that's why it barely garnered any media attention. But don't think this is an isolated case. Just last year, two runners died from the New York Marathon, and three runners tragically died at the Detroit Marathon (which pundits say is more of a coincidence than anything else).
So the question is...
Are these all just flukes, or a truly morbid reality of our sport?
Scary.
During that fateful race, I ran in the same 21k category as Remus. Was gunning for a sub 1:50 21k PR, but for some reason or another was terribly sluggish that day while pacing with TPB teammates Ace and Jixee. As I would only get to know later, we had a 100% humidity reading that day. I'd like to think that I'm in pretty good shape, but with the heat in play, at near the 18k mark my heart rate went into overdrive. Rapid, crazy heart thumping action so much to the point that I could feel the vibration already. Slight pain on my chest. Okay, maybe not so slight. I had to slow down. What the heck was happening to me? I took GU Roctane awhile back, but I've trained with it at tempo pace and no such effect. Was that the reason? Still no relief. My head was starting to hurt pretty bad. I can't breathe well. Oh no. At just the exact time that I was about to completely panic and stop at the side of the road, the chest pains stopped. After composing myself gingerly (no pun intended) I finished the last 3k awash in cold sweat, the anxiety of the chest pains happening again nearly numbing me to a crawl. As I crossed the finish line, the disappointment of completely missing my target was dwarfed by the magnitude of that quick scare. What the hell just happened?
Who would have known the burning within?I shakily kept this incident to myself, partly in part to preserve my macho Gingerbread image. In all seriousness though, I was quite in denial. Antsy even. Actually, just writing about it right now is taking a lot of chutzpah. The whole incident was supposed to be locked away in that box that you keep in the far corner of your brain, never to be tapped into again... .
Until I got word that Remus passed away.
It suddenly dawned on me that this was a guy who ran the same race I did. Same category. With that little "incident", and all the internal histrionics that came with it, it seemed like I was just a hairline away. Really now, what was the difference between me and Remus? A bad break here or there and I could have easily been that person sprawled on the pavement. For someone who had finished a 102km Ultramarathon in 41 degree weather, this was like a quick reality check on my mortality. And it got me thinking paradoxically.
Do we really push ourselves that hard? Hard enough that it may one day cost us our lives?
But then again, if we don't push, how will we ever improve our times? If we don't "dig deep and give it your all when there is absolutely nothing left" (quoting Paul Tergat), how can we ever expect to keep on improving in this highly competitive sport of ours?
I have raced a decent debut duathlon and a record-setting 10k in the weeks hence with no incident.
But still it's always there, lying in the dark recesses of my subconscious. What if... . it happens again?
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
I had just come back from my Bataan fun run weekend and had been pretty much detached from humanity when I got an email from the Runrio gang inviting me to the "Runrio Trilogy Awards Night".
I thought to myself, showbiz na ba si Rio ngayon? Funny thing was, in my semi-vegetative state after my 160k jagging, I actually declined, thinking the event was Monday night. Hard to go when you're walking like a BT (bagong tule) sorta character. Much to my consternation, Runrio "Social Media Director" (hihi) Vimz would tell me that the staffers were aghast at such a lurid reply. Thankfully she explained that my brain couldn't be in one place after the weekend, my apologies for being souped.
Anyway, as I would only understand later, the event was meant to honor the runners who completed the Runrio Trilogy, in addition to a smattering of special awards. Open bar, buffet courtesy of Paul Calvin's,celebrity sightings... . the place had the feel of the Oscars.Okay maybe not, but you get the idea It was the perfect synthesis of giving back to a community who has supported his burgeoning enterprise, and an ideal post-marketing/good PR vehicle for his sponsors. No wonder our main man was in a wonderful mood last night. Here are some of my notes from last night :
Nice.
If I'm not mistaken, this used to be Alchemy. Apparently, it died a natural death. It is now... . Decagon. Naman kasi, gigimik lang dati tabi pa ng Tiendesitas. Not exactly the place where you want to get the party poppin. You might see your Mommy buying Palawan chicken and Spanish sardines on the way out.
In fairness, the place looks wonderful. Sosy. 5'11 carb-starved models abound, to the merriment of the ogling running denizens. Funny, but for some inane reason I suddenly waxed nostalgic. Why? I know it's hard to believe now with my shriveled nognog Gingerbread looks, but more than a decade ago me and TPB ultra bud Mark (we had the same "handler" for a time geez) were trolling like events called "ushering" in industry jargon for about P3,000 a pop in fun places that went by names from a bygone era like Mars, Euphoria, and Fat Willy's. Sigh how time passes. Wait, the line is moving. Move it Mr. Gurang mann.
Grainy Photobooth pix upon entering. Too many reds on the hue. I'll take the free Photobooth any day though.
Nice that people had badges identifying them as awardees. Nice touch.
Rio is channeling David Ruffin today with his tux and glasses. If you don't know who David Ruffin is, igoggle mo na lang.
Man of the night
He checks up on me and Abby after Sunday's gig, apparently he's just like you and me. You know, he also checks out pix on Facebook. The man is in the know. We chide him on his new Audi TT toy, just before we were leaving for Bataan we saw some frizzy haired guy in a roadster waving, turns out it was him. In typical self-effacing manner, he says "utang lang yan". With the way he's puling in paper, he could have went in and bought it like a quarter pounder from Mcdo.
Back to civilization for Abby and GBM
No sight of my good buddy Piolow here. Pfft.
Food was very good, good job Jay Em! Di bitin with the choices. They really spent for it, not the "para masabi lang" buffet.
Funny how Endure Multisport teammate Pio somehow manages to wind up on a table with the two hosts (Tricia Chiongbian and the other dude, Coy?Boy/Bhoy Ramos. If he's famous or some sort of celebrity forgive me, I don't get to watch TV anymore), Venus Raj, and the current Rio girlpren. He somehow also manages to wind up on stage for a drinking game. Fun times.
Practically everyone is an awardee, it feels like graduation. With my nametag saying "guest", does that mean I'm like the parent? Or the tito na napilitan and sumama for the kainan?
Happy awardee
Jaymie sighting, and she later wins the Hyper Blogger award. Fun distinction, and I never knew that mild-mannered Jaymie and "Hyper" could be stuck in the same sentence. They should have just gave it to Sam the Running Ninja. Oh I forgot he's semi-retired.
Majority of the people are having a good time. The ones who are really having a good time are those at the open bar. Wait, is that Abby?
Philippine All-Stars steal the show with a sensational number. Whenever you brand yourself as such, you have to ensure you're pretty damn good. These guys never disappoint.
In related news, Pedz the Running Atom was hypnotized when the All-Star gals did some rhythmic bellydancing. I'm not telling, just saying. :P
Is it just me, or is Unilab Active Health Prez Alex Panlilio the long lost brother of Paolo Bediones? No homo, just speaking for the estrogen in the crowd.
The little montages before the special awards were 50-50 on the funny scale.
The AVP's were well made. Actually, the whole event was. It had that professional feel about it, apparently they have this whole event organizing thing down pat.
Just when the crowd was losing energy All-Stars are sent out again to wake the people up. Why do I get the impression this was an impromptu number? It seemed like an intervention, the number was bitin. Still good though.
Six Cycle Mind comes in, apparently they were commissioned to do the Runrio theme song. Rock Star vibe with matching shades indoors. Ooh.
As part of their spiel, Tricia and Boy/Bhoy/Coy are incessantly prodding the running madlang people to well, er, get drunk and just make tomorrow "recovery day". Dead silence. Apparently, people take tempos over tequilas around these places.
Finale is weird, as they try to pull the U2 vibe, yet people weren't really minding them. They were all glued to the adjacent stage where Rio was poppin' with the All-Stars to the theme song. He gives credence to the theory that runners aren't meant to be dancers. Of course, that's my own original theory and suddenly I don't feel so bad anymore.
At least he was down for it.
All awardees get loot bags. Lame guests like me don't. Nice. Everyone goes home happy. After a trip to the open bar of course.
That's it folks, overall was a good event and another first in the industry. Good luck to everyone running the 2011 series!
When my body gives out and my head tells me to quit, my heart compels me to struggle on. At some point, however, my head and my heart get in 'cahoots' with each other. They both demand I stop. That is when my spirit soars and their protestations are of no avail. I am propelled by a force unseen, drawn to a potential I have yet to realize. I shake off the burden of the physical and wake up to experience my dream. At last I am free... .
Some have dubbed it the final frontier. Well, for the moment at least. The fact of the matter is, right now there is no longer road race in the country. The Bataan Death March 160k Ultramarathon is in a league of its own, and dwarfs all comers to the table. Nothing even remotely comes close. Participants are either honored in hushed, reverential tones or maligned as foolhardy and ignorant.Maybe even stupid. Save for a trifling number, after KM 102 pretty much everybody would be entering the twilight zone. The first ever 100-mile race in the country sticks out like Everest on steroids to the hungry masses, the novelty of the great unknown drawing these inquisitive endurance athletes like moths to a flame. The appeal to be part of history ups the risk/reward scale on an unprecedented level, and athletes will be tested as they have never been before. How long should one soldier on, and when should one know when to quit? It is the quintessential paradox of a discipline that is fueled by blood, guts, and an indomitable will to make it to that finish line. It is a paradigm that will be revisited in recurring snippets as the tale unravels.
The few and the proud...
Prologue
"May invite ka na ba pre?" That was the prevailing water cooler topic for ultra running denizens a couple months back. As for me, the answer was a resounding NO. I wasn't too surprised though, and already had already somehow come to terms with it. After my maiden stint last year with BDM 102, I never really did anything that could be remotely considered "ultra" anymore. While my contemporaries had joined practically every "mid-distance" (if one could consider 70k as such. Really now.) ultramarathon race that Sir Jovie Narcise (better known in running circles as the irrepressible Bald Runner or just plain BR for short) had put out there, it was no big secret that I have been dabbling into multisport and cycling for the most part and had pretty much been out of the scene. So it was really no shocker. I would be lying if I said it didn't bug me though. Just to be considered for the race is a big honor already, and after all I did apply for it. Thing was,we had absolutely no idea what the criteria was for selection. Rumors abound that supposedly only 15 hour finishers would be considered. But then as the initial wave of invites came out, people who were right around my finish range were getting golden tickets, which pretty much added to my anxiety. Perhaps it was my inactivity with the PAU (Philippine Association of Ultrarunners) that contributed to it. Maybe it's just not in the cards. Sigh. We all move on... ...
Then one day, as me and Abby were walking around BHS , i get a buzz on my Blackberry. Thank God for instant email. When that header said "Jovenal Narcise", my heart skipped a beat. When I saw the subject line " Letter of Invitation to the BDM 160", I let out a yelp of joy in the middle of the walkway. Okay maybe not, but you get the idea. Abby got hers at pretty much the same time.And why shouldn't she? I'm probably the only guy in the country who has a girlfriend who runs 102 kilometers faster than he does. Happy night.This was what I wanted right? Right? But... .. I haven't had any long-distance training. Nada. Zilch. Farthest I've ran in a year was 21k. Oh my. With one fell swoop, suddenly the ball was in my court now.
Decisions, Decisions
When the announcement first came out, the race was actually meant to be BDM 151, 151 kilometers representing the cumulative total distance including the train ride of the Death March prisoners to Camp O' Donnell in Capas, Tarlac. However, there was a clamor to increase the distance to just over 160 kms to make it the official 100-mile race in the country. When BR acceded, the wheels in my head were suddenly turning. I suddenly have a shot to cross one off the old bucket list. After a prolonged period of soul searching (that took roughly about 30 minutes) I had made my decision. Obviously, you know what that decision came out to be. The die had been cast. No turning back now.
Forming the Crew
Perhaps unbeknownst to many, the support crews that you tag along for these races aren't of the prototypical cheerleader rah rah kind, which is a common misconception. It's not fun and games, it's not a street party. If at all, the support crew may even undergo more stress than the runners themselves. They are awake during practically the same time frame, and undergo constant anxiety on their runners well being. The crew has to be part inspirational leader, part drillmaster, part nutritionist, part nurse and part driver. They are perhaps the most integral supplementary element to the success of the race, and their relative efficiency could provide the final difference in toeing the fine line between life and death when push comes to shove (I'm not kidding).
Last year, I got my buddy AJ, my internet legend uncle Tito Caloy and random/seasonal friend RV (by virtue of six degrees of separation he somehow got ensnared into this) whom I met just on the day itself. They were all somehow under the impression that this would be a fun, all-night drinking session with me somehow running in the background. Of course, given the shock and stress that they were suddenly, unwittingly subjected to, they forever hold a "BDM card" on me, that they can pull as they wish. Warning to BDMers - this is prone to general abuse, so choose your crew wisely. Smirk.
This year, Abby agonized over the decision on whether to run or not. She was one of what seemed like only ten women who had qualified for it, and the chance to make history was tantalizing. On the flipside, while she was in phenomenal shape she scarcely had any run training. Crucial year in setting up her business, and I guess at one point we all just have to draw the line with priorities. With much trepidation, she decided to hold it off for next year and I hope to make it up to her then. With her addition though I finally have the benefit of not just a seasoned runner on the crew, but an veteran ultrarunner who knows what it takes to get to that finish line.
I've been bugging AJ, who worked harder than anyone last year in keeping me alive out there, to once again be part of my crew. After incessant faux rejections ( no way in hell he would turn down the possibility of two BDM cards to pull), he finally "caved in" after my assurances that this would be the "last". Which was what we said last year. Hihi.
Internet legend Tito Caloy (old Takbo.ph joke, just google my old material) wasn't supposed to be part of the crew this year and was an 11th hour callup because we needed the extra hand. He had all but retired from the running scene and promptly returned to his competitive drinking roots. His son, my cousin Mel (but we call him Shtuey, go figure) was ostensibly going to crew me, back had to back out at the last moment due to his slated thesis defense. I told him "yung thesis pwede naman ulitin, eto once in a lifetime lang to!" Bad Kuya GBM.
The final piece of the puzzle was Duart, who along with myself and AJ have formed a decade-long triumvirate dating back from our days as gangly freshmen at DLSU. He was crestfallen at missing my maiden campaign last year, and was determined to make it up this year. My energetic buddy not only signed on in a jiffy, he even provided the Innova which would become our support car.
The only crew that matters... .With everything in good stead, now all we could do was wait for our date with destiny.
The Briefing
The race briefing is an annual tradition wherein everyone makes the pilgrimage to Camp Aguinaldo to hear last minute instructions from BR. It is also the last chance for you to take hang and socialize with your "batchmates" in a somewhat lucid manner, you may be even lucky to snag a helping or two of lechon. The whole thing is pretty and cut and dry, but one slide of BR stood out to everybody that night.
Don't blame the RD!
D-Day
The advantage of having the race start in the morning is that your body clock is not out of whack. You can sleep like a normal human being and you don't have to be a zombie the first leg or so. With the rest of the team following after office hours (too bad it wasn't an official holiday pfft), me and Abby hitched with TPB bud and BDM 102 partner Mark Hernandez along with soon-to-be marathoner/TPB wifey Bea. While waiting for them at our pre-arranged BHS meeting spot, we see an Audi TT roadster park just in front of Rox. Oohhh fancy. Oddly enough, the silhouette inside was waving to us. Was someone trying to pick up Abby in broad daylight? Que Horror. Amusingly, it turned out to be none other than our good friend Rio with his new toy. The afro gave him away. Soon after Mark and Bea would arrive, and we were well on our way. Last year, I wasn't too happy with our place. This year, we decided to check-in at the MC Lodge, highly regarded by practically everyone and much nearer to KM 0. Place was cool, rooms were just slightly smaller but much cleaner and with better appointments. Of course, I pretended not to see the "295, Aircon 3 hours special" sign outside. Groovy.
It's the place to be We had time to burn, so we scoped out the place for landmarks for the crew and made sure all the gadgets were charged up. Thing I love about the place was that there were like 7 sockets in such a small room. FTW. To "relax" me we were able to set up a mini-DBD on my laptop and I was able to sneak in an article in there (hapit). Around 6 pm Saturday, we had many different choices from their five-star chef for our last supper of sorts.
Bon Apetit! Finally, some shuteye. The crew (and I expected nothing less) got lost and arrived close to midnight. After what seemed like a couple of hours we all had to get the ball rolling. The pressure was mounting. More pressure came forth (my blood pressure,that is) when my crew told me they had a P600 peso dinner. BDM card, BDM card. After what seemed like an eternity, we left the lodge and went on the starting line.An almost unmistakable cornucopia of anxiety, excitement, and fear was distinctly palpable within the car's constraints. I had worn my exact finish line outfit from last year as some weird pamahiin. Out with the old and in with the new, and in a few moments we would be seeing history unfold before our very eyes. The calm before the storm The pre-race events usually consist of a bunch of souvenir photos,some scattered well-wishes and a lot of prayers. Now, there's also the annual rendition of the US and Philippine anthems. Last year, BR gave a "soulful" rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner, (much to the enjoyment of the crowd and much to his chagrin after all the ribbing he got after lol) and this year it was US Armyman Gilbert Gray's turn. Pretty straight up, stoic but no doubt amiable fellow. Remember when we all saw Robocop without the mask? This guy is a dead ringer both in looks and demeanor. I was hit by a sudden burst of nostalgia. It seemed just yesterday that I was here, a greenhorn to the entire enterprise. Sigh, how time flies. After the requisite "class picture", the 59 brave souls on that fateful Saturday morning were off at right around 6am. Destiny and glory were waiting, now the onus was on us to do our part.
With the crew at KM 0.
I hope to replicate this pose at the finish line
The Endure Multisport Ultramen Let the madness beginThe race with no equal started off without much aplomb, with runners trotting warily in lieu of blasting off on all cylinders. Surely, these veterans knew better. Some were setting a faster pace, and only time could tell if they could hold it. After all, this was the biggest battle of our lives right here. I opened the race with buddies Mark Hernandez and OJ Giron, a couple of familiar faces that I hoped would make the journey a lot more meaningful. And in hindsight, hoping that once we enter our own Battle of the Bulge, our own private Normandy, we would all be there to keep each others sanity in check. They had a fairly ambitious goal though- finish the race in 24 hours or less. While I felt that was purely wishful thinking for me given my fitness level, the plan was to just hang with them as far as it takes me. I mean, these guys were in phenomenal shape. OJ coaches nearly full-time and Mark has been on a tear on the running circuit as of late. I would have my work cut out for me but I couldn't allow myself to be left behind.We start out conservatively, alternating a brisk jog and walking the entire 4k incline. Many are passing us at will while BR passes by in a van and chats us up. Our man is in a good mood this morning, in stark contrast to last year's drillmaster barking on a megaphone. Ordinarily, a competitive junkie like me (and I'm pretty sure these two have that same genome in them) would go nuts at being passed so... . effortlessly. But this wasn't a 10k. The reality was, we had 153 more kilometers to go. Just the thought of it scares the hell out of me. What did I get myself into again?
Just out for a weekend fun run with friends... .The Lolo Diaries
At one point, we run into a group led by the "grand old warrior" himself, the ageless Victor Ting. If you see your old man lounging around in the sala watching TV or discovering this fascinating thing called "internet" while forwarding you funny emails (just as we did in well, 1999), this guy puts them all to shame. Imagine, his apos must have it good. No way they are losing an eh ang lolo ko mas magaling sa lolo mo argument. Like, "eh ang lolo ko tumakbo mula Bataan hanggang Tarlac" End of conversation. The ageless wonder somehow had it in him to drag his 66-year old legs across a hundred miles side-by-side with runners young enough to be his grandchildren. Mark told me he could never catch the old codger during the test runs no matter how hard he tried. Thing was, he was maintaining such a ridiculously efficient, no-stopping strategy that it was practically impossible to keep up with him. Perhaps in utter embarrassment at being shown up, we finally caught up with him eventually. And here are some snippets of what I got from a living legend.
" Dati may 100k na , diyan sa may Burnham sa Baguio. Bata pa si Jovie, alam niya yun. Tumakbo ako dun! Paikot ikot nga lang kami."
"Mabagal lang tayo. Sanay tayo sa mabilis pero dito mabagal lang tayo malayo layo pa to"
"Nung 1981 sa Manila International Marathon sub-3 yung marathon ko"
"Nag two bottles pa kami ng Red Horse kagabi"
Hmm, maybe that's his secret. Damn, you mean our very own "super lolo" was a sub-3 hour dude the year before I was er, born? I suddenly conjured visions of myself running in 2041, with a young buck chatting me up at the 31st Runrio Trilogy Anniversary Run
Kid : Lolo, sigurado po ba kayo na kaya nyo pa? Tubig po? Malapit na lang, wag po pilitin. Lolo GBM : Bah. Alam mo ba noong araw eh natakbo ako mula Bataan hanggang Tarlac?Patakbo yun ni Presidente Narcise dati kada taon Kid : Um, er, ah ganun po ba? Waw. Talaga lang ha. Sige lo, init lang yan. Inom ka na lang ng tubig nagdidiliryo na po kayo. Lolo GBM : Totoo! Anong akala mo nagbibiro ako? Eto ipapakita ko pa ang silver buckle ko bilang katibayan (lifts up singlet to show buckle) Kid : Yuck indecent exposure! DOM! PEdo! Security!!!!!!
Talo Lolo mo sa Lolo ko. Kids. Pffft. As I was snapping out of my misguided daydream, I realized that the urge to do the number two was somewhat compelling enough to tell the crew about it. Abby texts back, we found one in 1.5k, that ok? Of course that was okay. I was thinking, the earlier I get this out of the way the better. Last year was an utter nightmare, first try I was shown a hole on the ground, second try I had to run nearly 1k inside a subdivision just to make it to their clubhouse and I nearly fell asleep inside. They even thought I passed out. This year there was no such problem as the crew found a very nice spot right around the 20k mark ... .. inside an Iglesia ni Cristo church. As Abby assured me that my presence there wasn't bordering on anything sacrilegious, I was successfully able to execute probably the fastest and most efficient pit stop ever. Thank you INC, I owe you guys one.
Isolation Therapy
During that break, I had lost Mark and OJ. I kept on looking back, and I asked a Team Ungas van where they were and I was given the impression they were far back. So I was all alone. Felt like I was making good time though, pace at a rock solid 7:30. Much to my consternation, it turns out that they were actually ahead of me. Finally back with my buds, it was supposed to be all smooth sailing from here. It didn't last long though. One pit stop later and the group was once again splintered. What I couldn't understand was why was it that I was the one getting ahead when I'm the weakest runner in our group by a mile. Perhaps, was I doing something wrong? Going too fast? Not even. With no sight of my, I just had to trudge on.
Me, Myself, and the Long Winding Road.
All by myself... . don't wanna be. All by myself... .. anymore.
As the bars of the seminal Celine Dion classic rang through my head, I was thinking, this wasn't how I wanted my story to unfold. It was supposed to be packed with stories of guts, glory, and the will to continue. Of camaraderie and an unspeakable bond with brothers who share the same iron-clad mindset in helping each other succeed through seemingly insurmountable odds. It would have made for great drama, the piece that would finally nail me my first Philippine Blog Award win... .. a tale of hardship, friendship, and sacrifice through... .
Wait, who am I kidding? It's just me, myself, and the road. The sheer drudgery is getting to me. It's pretty much... . mundane and er, unexciting. It's a microcosm of your typical countryside life, and it's a change passing by here during the daytime. Aside from regular contact with my crew and the occasional chit chat with other teams, it's pretty much me and a bunch of nameless faces along the road who keep getting me engaged in this incessant cycle that never gets old :
Bystander : Koya, san kayo galing? GBM : Mariveles Bystander : San paponta koya? GBM : Tarlac Bystander : !!!!!
Enter Celine Dion chorus here I think in my frustration, I was speeding along faster than I had intended to. As I was approaching the 32k mark I had already passed Frontrunner EIC/Ultra strongman Jonel and the super lolo Vic Ting group. I also saw a focused Pat Alcomendas seemingly struggling, the mere fact of which seemed to blow my mind. He prodded me to go on, was worried if any nagging injuries were manifesting. A quick check on the 310xt, 7:04 pace. Eek. Much faster than what I had intended to hold, and fearful I might gas out later. Relax. Breathe. Malayo pa to.
Manong pacing me to Tarlac. He lasted 30 seconds.Crew check The gang was pretty impeccable at this point. Abby would send me inspirational messages from time to time (hihi) and that never failed to give me a boost. AJ and Duart were on point, although Duart was like a man possessed perhaps in his haste to make up for lost time last year. AJ was mostly chilling. Tito Caloy, was , well, being Tito Caloy. His moral support is invaluable to the endeavor, let's just keep it at that. As I would learn later, Abby was garnering a certain following amongst our provincial folk with her "eye- popping" running outfit which would seem more at home within the comfy asphalt of BHS rather than the concrete jungle of the Bataan countryside. Hey, it's comfy!(rejoinder for fear of future retribution) Warning Signs As I was nearing the marathon mark I was beginning to slow down a little. Ill effects from a fast start? Five hours and a half into the whole thing, my left foot was beginning to feel sore. Also noticeable was that I kept on doing a really weird overpronation move with my left foot, for some reason it would pronate inward and the sole of the shoe would keep on hitting my right ankle. I noticed this mechanical flaw would only come out towards the latter part of anything north of a marathon. And now I'm slowly flagellating my right ankle. Fun.Rule of Thirds Amidst the madness, I decided to divide the race into three parts to keep my head in there - 0 -50, 50 - 102, 102- 160. Within each division I would chomp them up into bite-size and easily digestible 10k portions. That way you don't lose yourself mentally, it's easy to get overwhelmed and deflated when there is too much emphasis on the big picture. I have seen many of my comrades fall by the wayside when this kicks in, and all of us are susceptible at any given moment. As I was doing my mental calculations, the man who had taught me these valuable lessons just caught up with me. It was Jonel! Finally, company! Part-mentor/Frontrunner slave driver, he was coming on strong and as we approached the 50k stretch in Abucay the conversations we had invigorated me. I reminded him that I still owed him breakfast for losing a bet with him on Condura ( I had a lame 4:14, he dropped a 3:47... . after doing a test run. Incredible.) We run into Robocop Gilbert Gray, who must have been bored with our pace and left us soon after. He would eventually finish 10th in a steady, methodical, um, serious performance. We reach the 50k mark around six and a half hours in, BR and Mrs. BR were there to greet us. As we would later on discover, we were both in the top 20 at this point. So far so good. I take the opportunity to stretch out and sit down a little, I actually arrived ahead of my crew. Learning from last year's lessons, I didn't spend too much time here, heck didn't even wait for a costume change. Jonel had an even faster T1 (if you would consider it as such tri-geeks) and was already ahead of me by several minutes. "Just" 110k to go, it should get interesting from here. An Accidental Bromance Back to my lonesome. I don't if growing up alone is a key factor to some deep psychological crap inside of me, but I hate being alone. I hate eating alone, I hate going to the mall alone. Ironically, although I usually train alone I'm not exactly thrilled about it. So sue me, social being here. So once again, it's driving me nuts that I'm by my lonesome. At this point, Jonel was long gone already and was too strong to chase down given I'm going through the motions of a swoon already. So back to the drudgery. My left foot is starting to bother me already and it's starting to get hot already. Many have lost their way on this national highway, and I had no intention of succumbing in my solitude. That's until I notice a semi-familiar face going back and forth with me. Semi-familiar because I knew that dude was Paolo Osmena, a veteran who is no doubt exponentially stronger than me. Someone also said he had the legs of a female supermodel. Of course, I deny all allegations that this came from me. Anyway, for what seemed like a 15k stretch we would settle into this bizarre pattern where I would surge ahead of him after running 1.5k straight, then once I rest with the crew he would come surging back and establish a big lead then the cycle replicates itself. While I felt I was pacing better than him as it seemed he was in some sort of pain, his advantage was he would only stop every 5k. Does that mean I'm a Gingerbread sissy for stopping as often as I did? Probably. Soft-baked mush. But at this point, at the back of my head I was trying to conserve as much as I could, long ways to go. Eventually, this seemingly "cold war" was driving me crazy. I ran up to him ( he was favoring the opposite side of the road) and struck up a conversation. And he turned out to be a very affable albeit tired fellow. His plantar was killing him, but more than anything he was questioning why was he feeling a notch short on probably his most important racing day of the year. He felt he had more than trained for this, so many long runs and hours put in, and yet here he was feeling exhausted less than halfway through. In retrospect, this same malaise may have struck a lot of my fallen comrades. But then again, we'll never really know. Every runner out there has their own unique story, and the entire gamut of emotions that are transmuted into one ethereal body of work make this journey unlike any other.I tried to boost my newfound friend's flagging spirits by telling him that even if we were feeling horrible now, we were still well-entrenched in the top half of the draw. And as much as we felt that we were sucking, those who are still behind us must be sucking too. Of course, that wasn't necessarily true, but I had to say something. He was asking if we walked from that point to the 160 line, would we make it? Perhaps, maybe. But we have to make it to 102 first. Obviously, we wouldn't if we did. But it takes an ultrarunner to know anothers suffering, and at that point you do what you could to help them go forward. On a downward spiral Somewhere nearing KM 70, I was really beginning to feel exhausted. Nearly nine hours in, I was slowly tapering off. Either I left my newfound buddy somewhere or he left me, but I just lost him at a certain point. I was really slowing down and my pace had plummeted to 8:30 cumulative. After what seemed like ages, finally I saw glimpses of different souls. Which was great. And they were passing me left and right. Which wasn't. OJ came out of the woodwork after what seemed like an eternity and was still dropping 7:30 pace effortlessly. I tried latching on but I was already slowly fizzling out. Don Ubaldo was making a rally from behind, he soon passed me as well. And buddy Mark passed me as well, looking fresh as ever. So this is all it would come down to. Just as with all my races, just as with my marathons. A very promising start only to choke at the end. It's a recurring theme, a recurring problem. Maybe ... maybe there's something wrong with what I'm doing. Maybe the problem is... . me. There is no greater dagger to one self-confidence than when one is getting passed left and right by your fresh-looking colleagues. It exacerbates a malignant notion slinking in the shadows. While racing the biggest race of one's career, the last thing you would want to happen is for self-doubt to creep in. Extraordinary circumstances call for an extraordinary effort, and no way are you going to pull that off without a certain modicum of self-belief. But isn't that what ultra running is all about? When both the will and the body have been broken, do you have enough to bring you home to that line?I want to puke. I'm dizzy. Maybe I was just being too brash. Who was I anyway, thinking I could just step in here and do a 100 miler without any serious long run training?These guys have been training for a year now. I didn't belong here. I knew I was in decent shape but I guess that just wasn't enough. I'm in pain, everything is painful. Maybe I should quit now and just suck it up later. Oh great Argow just passed me again. He does that every year around these parts. He's very strong. I wanna puke again. This was a big mistake. Where's Tito Lito Lapid? Maybe I could start to rally here just as I did last year. Finally, the crew is here. Maybe I can show them that I am still strong, get something good energy going. Good thing I have shades on. They can't see a defeated man's eyes.
Put up or Shut up From KM 70 onwards I was a dead man walking already. Abby was getting increasingly agitated and worried. My left foot was bothering me severely and I could barely move without significant pain. The crew was taking turns massaging and spraying, and ice cubes on my face seemed to help. I had to stop every kilometer, and finally we just changed my fancy Adidas socks into less fancy Adidas socks which were much more laspag and looser.
Which at that point I felt was what I needed. I had lost a lot of ground and this was all really getting to me. The competitive nut in me had wanted to do well in this race, showing everybody "it could be done" on a cross-train base. I had a chip on my shoulder if you would call it that. However, at this point that chip could have been easily mistaken for a heavy cross, as I was in heavy suffering.More stops. More pain.
Tirik mode. At that monent, I could never put a premium on the value of having an experienced ultrarunner like Abby on my crew. Her relentless approach last year worked wonders, and left my whiny self eating her dust. While everyone was sort of freaking out at my disheveled state, she was resolute in whispering to me "Tiis lang babe. Not too many breaks. You can do this. Just keep on moving forward, sayang time. I took solace in that and soldiered on. If I couldn't be strong, at least someone was being strong for me. And I could feed off that. And the journey continues... . Of Pain and Detours As my slowly deteriorating carcass was slowly marching through the dusty Pampanga highway, without a doubt I was a broken man both mentally and physically. I had a losers mentality and was already looking for reasons to quit. Km 80 could have been a world away and i wouldn't have known the difference. My pace had plummeted, my strategy out of sorts. What had started out as a promising race was going down the drain on account of a left foot that was swelling ridiculously. Each attempt at running was rewarded with pain, pain, and more pain. Masakit na. Ayaw na. What exacerbated things was that the crew took a left somewhere, ostensibly for a 1k detour. That 1k detour turned out to be 3.5k of hell without a support crew. No drinks,no nothing. Much to my consternation, turns out they could have just gone straight and ignored it, all the rest of the support cars were there. I was down and out. Suddenly, nightfall was approaching. How could I even dream of hitting 160k when I'm running on nonexistent fumes here? As I finally catch the crew after nearly four kilometers of non-existent support, it seemed like the end of the line for me. Battered, exhausted, I sat down somewhere near KM 80 and nearly collapsed while sitting down. Abby was very concerned already. She kept on muttering Just keep moving forward babe, you can do this. I believe in you. AJ and Duart were searching for inspirational quotes from their bag of tricks as well.Somewhere, seeing such a concerted effort from my team ignited a long recessive notion from within. In my frustration, I suddenly came to the realization - why the heck am I acting like such a sissy? I had already done this before! I'm a vet for crying out loud. Let's get this done! My swagger, which had somehow taken an inopportune time to take a VL, came back just in the nick of time. With renewed vigor, my head back on the right frequency, I went back out there with that predator's mindset that had been sorely missing for several hours now. Pain is just a word One slight problem. Energized as I was, the pain was slowly bordering on "enough to make me yelp" proportions. My form must have been god-awful. Anyway, I kept on whining like some lame greenhorn until I sort of just got fed up with myself. This was a war, and if I was going down I'd do so on my shield. In a journey not wanting of inspiration, there are some times that you just had to get the job done yourself. If some other people along the way saw me angrily muttering to myself, here's the inside scoop on what that was going on. Wimpy GBM : Ouch. Aray. Ang sakit na talaga. DNF na tayo koya, uwi na tayo please? BDM Vet Hard Core GBM : Ano ka ba?! Sali sali ka dito tapos aangal angal ka jan? Bwiset! Wimpy : Waaaah but it hurts so baaaad and I'm soooooo tired =,( Hard Core : You joined this stupid, the pain is to be expected. Duh! Do you seriously expect to run this long with no pain? You have got to be kidding me! Suck it up chump! You a tough guy or a wimp? Wimpy : Sungit mo naman... .. Not that I've degenerated into schizoprenia, but I needed to kick it up a notch if I had any intention of getting through this. I entered Km 80 a man possessed, suddenly I was hitting 8:00 pace with ease. The foot was extremely bothersome, but my mind and psyche were clear. Just keep moving forward. Dammit man. Get it together. Fighting for the fallen I had hit upon a fantastic formula that worked wonders for me and allowed both for enough rest and enough traction towards the goal. The support car would be there every 1k, so what I would do was that I would run for 1k, rest or sit down for a bit once I reached the car , walk 300 meters then run the next 700. It worked so well that it seemed that I could sustain for extended periods. Somewhere around the mid-80's I was shocked to see Bea and Dan around the route. But... . Mark was so far ahead of me right? She told me he had fallen behind a little to rest. As I probed what happened, I was told he was just tired, that's all. Ah, the typical swoon. But we all go through it and he would no doubt bounce back from it. I told Bea that I would be waiting up for him, a reprise of last year's end-game partnership seemingly forthcoming. My sudden resurgence suddenly catapulted me back into the thick of things. I ran into Singaporean ultra runner Kelly Lim, who told me she didn't know the way and was lacking in supplies, apparently her support crew was way behind. I instructed the gang to give her whatever she needed. I told her she could hang with me if she wanted, but her pace seemed way too strong for my injured left foot and methodical strategy.She thanked me and went on her way. The curious thing about the entire exchange was when she told me she was measuring her pace in steps. Not sure if that's a culture-specific thing, but I found it to be quite the novel approach. In the dark recesses of the land where tocino and sisig are king, the pain was considerable but I was sticking to my 700-300 run walk strat. Eerie headlamps defined shadowy figures identifiable only by their reflectorized vests, as we traversed a Kapampangan neighborhood that seemed to be comfortable in blithely ignoring us.Still, every time I would see a runner closing in I would ease up and check if it was Mark doing one of his trademark comebacks. Alas, it was another unfamiliar face marauding in the darkness. Where the heck was he? The crew was surprised at what seemed like a strong second wind from me, as I was arriving faster at our stops than what was previously trending. As I approached KM 90 in that tricky poblacion area that drove us nuts last year, turns out they were buying dinner at Jollibee and only AJ was left in the van. Before I could even ask him what our foodies were, he let go of a grim, tersely worded statement that rocked me to the core. Nag DNF na daw si Mark ... .. I couldn't believe it. Nearly 14 hours in, emotions were running high already. I was crestfallen, heartbroken. Like I could feel his pain myself. It was as if the enemy had successfully shot down one of my own. My lips quivered. This was my buddy, we had willed each other to the line last year. AJ even massaged him towards the end (he never let me forget). We were supposed to replicate that success this year. We've been in many wars together carrying the TPB bannerall season long and he was in phenomenal shape. He had trained so hard for this, as well as anyone I knew. I was at a loss for words at how that could have happened, more so that I knew how much he would fight to keep a DNF off his record. I was beside myself, I felt I let a friend down. Maybe if I were there I could have implored him to go on, helped him out bit by bit till he regained his senses and strength. Suddenly, sadness turned to worry. It had to be really serious for him to stop at that point. I implored AJ to give me more details, he didn't know either. Mark dropping out put a quick check on my own mortality. Reports would later come in that more and more friends were falling by the wayside. In my exhausted, sleep-deprived state, the pull of our close-knit fraternity dropping like flies emboldened me to push on. If there were an ultrarunning version of that scene in 300 where the captain goes berserk after his son gets decapitated, this was probably it. I hit 7:30 on my 310xt for a kilometer split at a time when the cumulative average was already around 8:40.
NoooooooooooooooI had to go on. For Mark, for everyone who had their dreams dashed by fate's cruel, unfeeling turn. It could have been me, could have been anyone. But I'm still around for a reason. This is for them. I have to take it home for them. Now let's get it done.
Let's do it for them. Just Get It To 102 At this point last year, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Just a wee bit more. I wrote : The pain in my left knee grew in intensity with each pause. My crew was pulling out all the stops to ensure that I made it. The pain was incredible. But to quit this near, after all that you've been through? No way in hell. If you told me that I had to roll down the road just to finish, I would have. This year, while I was presumably in better shape I was already slowing down significantly as I went past KM90. The adrenalin from my rallying cry around the plethora of DNF's had faded and the exhaustion was creeping in. As I marched on into the night, I was reminded on just how ludicrous the entire enterprise was in running the equivalent of nearly four marathons in 30 straight hours. Last year I barely made it in one piece to the line. This time around not only do I have to clear 102 kilometers, I have to run all the way to another province just to finish, 58 long kilometers away. Seriously. Who in the right mind would do this? I was dwarfed by the magnitude of the task at hand. As I was going through another late swoon, Wency, Chito and a couple of other warriors caught up with me. With differing run/walk patterns, we would alternate bursts of small talk along with taking the lead. I was weakening at this point, and I felt all alone . Mentally, making it to 102 meant the safe haven of a warm meal and the prospect of resting for more than the couple of seconds I had been giving myself for practically the entire journey.I kept on muttering just get it to 102, all will be well after. With pacers allowed 102 onwards, I was counting heavily on Abby, AJ and Duart to get me through in one piece. Before I could get there though, two pairs of shiny eyes suddenly hit my lamp. Dogs. Wild Dogs. Before I could even react, these uncuddly canines were chasing after me like I was a steak on two legs. At this point, this is truly the last thing you need. I just froze and walked calmly as their agitated, bloodthirsty growls resonated along the grim highway.Lucky.
Bad Doggie.As I allowed my blood pressure to settle down a few notches, I just realized that I still remembered quite distinctly each nuance this final stretch had to offer..I remember everything - my shuffling gait, the left to the eskinita, the cheers, the hug from BR. Everything is all still so vivid. Even amidst being embroiled in all this physical suffering, the reassurance of being in somewhat familiar conditions was invaluable. Soon, we would be leaving the comfort of these toiling grounds for a stab at the twilight zone. I check my watch. I actually have a shot at a 102 PR. In what was probably not the smartest move to do at that point , I yearned for a strong entry into KM102 so I "tempo ran" that final kilometer going as low as 7:00. At I approached the famous eskinita Abby, AJ and Duart were there to ensure I didn't get lost. I ran strong into the train station sixteen hours and 30 minutes after I had began to a cacophony of cheers from the remaining crowd, an hour erased from last year's finish. 102 kms done. 58 to go. Last year, this was the scene of our greatest triumph. Now, it is where we begin our greatest battle... .
A sight for sore eyes at KM102
Just like the good ol' daysPrelude To The Pain Finally, some semblance of "real" rest! I had worked long and hard for this so I would savor each second of it.I took off my shoes, got to stretch amd lie down for a bit, wolfed down a Burger Machine "double longga burger" for good measure. I heard some of the other warriors took a quick snooze as well. The 310xt got a fresh charge on Endure Multisport buddy/creative whiz Gerard Cinco's (of dimsumandsiomai fame) car charger. He was also kind enough to lend me his Garmin 405 to bridge the gap. Eternal thanks bro!
We put Salonpas on the throbbing upper arch of my bothersome left foot, some on the calves. Otherwise, I was okay. Or so I thought. Coming in at around 16:30ish, I decided to burn 30 minutes to simulate a 17 hour split , which more or less gives me 13 hours to complete that final 58k. I had fulfilled my short-term goal to bridge it to my pacers while keeping my sanity. Now the real challenge begins.
First up was AJ, my de facto crew chief from my BDM 102 campaign and eternal buddy. The plan was for him to cover anywhere from 5-10 kilometers while buying Abby some valuable shut-eye before she came on.. While not exactly a regular running denizen, AJ was a former UAAP Volleyball MVP and could count on his natural athleticism to take over should push come to shove. He was hyped up and raring to go as a strange new world awaited us out there.
BDM Card #2 right here.But before anything else, a couple of hiccups. First, for some incomprehensible reason I couldn't get my laces to stick.Perhaps the tender left foot had something to do with it as I was being OC with the tightness , but it took us at least five minutes to get the whole thing right. Talk about a momentum killer. Second - just get the heck out of the train station. Fast. We had traversed all around it, amidst what seemed like an abandoned rice paddy. A dog came right out and threatened to attack us. We were warned about the dogs, but seriously this was ridiculously way too early in the ball game. Much like the guardian pacer he was, Hasa bravely shooed the rabid dog away with his "shout and make gulat the doggie move". He would later confess that his cajones were being seriously compromised already, but he had to at least "pretend" to be strong in my severely weakened state. Thank God it worked. We finally were able to navigate our way around the labyrinthine area... only to wind up about 100 meters from where we had started. We could even see Sir Rene and Camilla Brooks from where we were. They probably thought we were messing around. Sheesh.
Apparently, it wasn't as simple as we thought.Crash Into Me We had wasted an inordinate amount of time just getting out into the main road, and I was deathly paranoid of getting lost at such a crucial juncture. My absence at that crucial, final test run was now coming back to haunt me. On the way to Macarthur Highway, I had AJ ask practically every manong if they saw runners along the route. Even if the answer was always in the affirmative, the eerie absence of support cars was agitating me. After asking like thrice, Hasa was like Ano, satisfied na? I probably muttered something unintelligible as a reply.
I tried to get on with the 700-300 formula that had worked so well for me, but after a solitary kilometer I felt sick. I was crashing. Hard. Again. Could the strong push leading to 102 drained my last reserves? I was hitting more than 17 hours of the road already. I guess the relative unfamiliarity of the terrain all added to this notion brewing in my head . Once I hit 103k , I was in no man's land. Pessimistic realities were beginning to form in my head. Damn, ang layo pa. Wala na akong ibibigay pa. I implored AJ that all I could do was walk first. All of a sudden, it seemed like I was in a daze. Parang high. To make matters worse, our support van was nowhere in sight. Apparently, Tito Caloy went freestyling on the route and insisted on the "Macarthur Highway" route that he knew... . which was going to Bulacan. Apparently, I wasn't the only one bonking. Try as I could, the legs were not responding. I was doing the tukod move at a higher ratio than at any point in the race. I almost even fell into AJ at one point. We were barely moving. Once again, fears of a late game choke were getting to me.Good thing that this was an all-too-familiar sight for my friend, having seen me buck injury and dehydration during the previous campaign. He still had his mental notebook full of pre-memorized inspirational quotes, but he didn't pull a single one. The one he did drop though, was probably the one that mattered the most. Kung sa akin nga lang pap, kung kaya lang kitang samahan ng 50k gagawin ko. A poignant moment in a journey made possible not by one man's singular effort, but by the collective sacrifices of those who share a single-minded determination to tow him to that finish line. Infused by a sudden stream of positive energy, it was just the thing I needed. Habol ng Habol Big steps lang. I tried running but gave up seeing that my "run" and AJ's walk were roughly around the same pace. So what's the point. Our progress was miserably slow. After close to an hour, me and AJ had only covered four ridiculous kilometers using this tactic and time was slowly ticking away. I was trying to get myself together by convincing myself that this hour long walk would serve as the much needed "rest" to help me once Abby came on. In pretty bad shape though. Ironically, AJ was somehow relieved when Duart offered to take over pacer duties. Apparently his surgically repaired knee was acting up, a heroic effort for a friend in need. Too bad I was too preoccupied battling my inner demons to fully appreciate it at the time
Hasa gutting it out after 5k
Duart raring to step up to the plate Once Duart had donned the official pacer's bib, we were off. He was jacked and amped up, perhaps a little too much for me in my rapidly diminished state. Given the horrid start to this final leg of our journey, we somehow had to make up for lost time. Around 19 hours in, I was fading badly and I sore in too many places than I could describe. My buddy, who was always the smartest guy in our class a decade ago, was hellbent on helping in any way he could. Some useless trivia : He once missed AJ's UAAP championship game, and was so disconsolate about it that he attended every single game the following season. Now that's what you call friendship! I am lucky to have him on my team.
He was listening to my instructions as much as he could while dropping the occasional motivational line, and we were making some semblance of progress. Pap, mental lang yan. Bumibigay na ang katawan pero it's all mental. Not sure if I got it verbatim but that's pretty much what I could remember.We had another mad dog episode, and he was brutally honest in telling me he wasn't exactly too thrilled with them wild doggies. A noble effort from my bud to keep me in there, but it was clearly bothering him. In short, at this point where my brain had pretty much short-circuited, I scarcely had any energy to to help him out against any anxiety as much as I wanted to. I needed to be carried, not the other way around. Another point of concern was when he told me he suddenly became dizzy, no doubt a byproduct of the sudden stress put upon his sleep-starved system. As much as Duart was shrugging it off, a glance on my watch was telling me we weren't trending well.
If only them Tarlac doggies were this cute At this rate, once Abby came on we might be too far behind already. But Duart still had 5k to go, and he seemed quite enthused with it. As much as I wanted to have my bud finish his full leg, the reality was that I needed Abby in there both for the physical and emotional boost, and I didn't think I could hang on for 5k more.As rhythmically disjointed as our current little sortie was, I was hanging on to the hope that once she came on, everything would fall back into place. I labored heavily with each run, my pain-wracked body slowly being battered into submission. At only 115k in, we were nearly 20 hours out there. 10 hours for 45k? In this state? I pushed the panic button and told good buddy Duart we had to cut short his stint. Always the proud warrior (he's already planning his own BDM 102 stint for next year. AJ is his support crew chief which rocks, problem is AJ doesn't know yet.), he seemed visibly bothered that I had cut his stint short. I scarcely had the energy to explain things, just muttered that it was all about "strategy"whatever that meant amidst his half-serious protestations. Once Abby saw her number called, she shifted to work mode instantaneously and snapped on the bib and my hydrobelt with baon gels. With one of the best ultrarunning pedigrees amongst all the pacers, she's a tremendous boon to my campaign. In the middle of the night, in some unknown highway, we had some serious catching up to do. Both literally and figuratively.
Super Abby to save the day Longest. Date. Ever. As we ventured into the great unknown, the "reserves" that I was storing during AJ and Duart's combined 10k stint somehow helped. The more I realized that we were running into Angeles City (yes, Angeles City. And yes, I started in Bataan, 20 hours ago.), all the more that the enormity of the entire experience was getting to my head. Each step was heavier, every breath more labored than ever. We started out strong thanks to Abby pushing the pace, but alas I couldn't ride out the heavy fade. My mind was starting to play tricks with me already. If there was such a thing as a "running pseudo lucid dream", I was probably doing it already. It felt like my brain was kicking into " dream mode" - while I was still running. Seemed like a bizarro mix of both a dream and a hallucination at the same time, and the line between fantasy and reality was severely blurred at this point. No idea if I was dreaming or not anymore.
Sabaw I regain a semblance of reality to the faint sobs of my worried girlfriend, who had been rock steady and strong the entire time. Apparently, I was already lying down the concrete pavement at some Angeles City bridge, my submission to mortality compounded by a suddenly biting wind. She was at a loss for words, the complexity of being a pacer tasked to bring you to the line intersecting with that of a petrified loved one. Diliryo. Yes, that's what they call it. I want to quit already. So many people have fought the good fight and called it a day already. Maybe I should do the same. ...
An emotional turning point... .A Walk On The Dark Side Somehow, Abby's resolute pleadings got me back on my feet again. However, as we plodded our way to Tarlac it was becoming harder and harder with no relief in site. The thermostat suddenly dropped out of nowhere and I started to shiver uncontrollably, to the point that my chest began to hurt already. I was forced to wear the only warm thing available - Tito Caloy' frumpy windbreaker. As much as this was the last place where you could be judged for a fashion faux pas, I took it off the moment I got warmer. Smirk. At this point I could only run for about 200 or so meters before stumbling around the dark, dusty abyss en route to Tarlac. It was a painful, arduous process. I would beg for a chance to sit down. Abby was adamant. Sayang time. Kaya pa yan. What a whiner. So many of our fellow warriors had passed us already, some I haven't seen since the start of the race. Gosh, I must have lost so much time already. Two enigmatic, shadowy figures emerge from the woodwork, plodding ninjas who had seemingly lost their way. Turns out it was the veteran ultra duo of George Dolores and Ralph Salvador, battle tested warriors who were likewise succumbing to their demons within. Aabot pa ba tayo?Di na namin gagawin to uli, kalokohan to! Seeing two proud veterans fighting their demons to the very end seemed to embolden me. If they are still in this... . no reason I shouldn't be. You know how they say that in a marathon your second wind kicks in just when you need it the most? I had used mine hours ago. That third and fourth? A distant memory. I'm running on empty here as we were approaching the 130k mark. A quick glance at the trusty 310xt. Not good. Not good at all. At this rate, there would be no way would be finishing within cutoff. I felt my dreams slowly fading, dissipating before my tired, weary eyes. The body had given up, the pain too immense. My spirit a meek spectator to the entire spectacle. Abby was slowly getting exhausted trying to coax something out of me, to no avail. But inside of me, a different storm was brewing. So that's it?This is how it's all going to end Luis? You just plain gave up? You bothered so many people, spent so much money, put yourself through this much pain, only to fail at the end? Think of how the Facebook statuses would come out tomorrow, how people would be sympathetic to your stupid excuses. Keep this crap up, and you will fail. Are you content with the whole "just making it to the start line is a victory" crap? You came here with a specific goal in mind. You want that buckle right? You want the cynics to shut the hell up right?? Are you going to quit on Abby? On Hasa and Duart after everything that they have done for you? On the five people who will read your story on your crappy blog? What a damn lousy story that would be. More than anything, do it for yourself. Do you want to be remembered as a quitter forever?
On life support and needing a miracle Desperate times call for desperate measures. When all else was failing, I swung for the fences with nothing left to lose. How? Simple, really. I pissed myself off. Yes, you read that right. I was trying my darn best to piss myself off. Before my brain decided to shut itself down completely, I had this bright idea that the only way to save my race was for my adrenalin to go into overdrive. It's the fight or flight paradigm at play, and I gave it one final heave. If this failed, there was nothing more I could do but accept that maybe this wasn't really meant for me. It's a sober reality that I would probably deal with for the rest of my life. Everything was hinging on this. I couldn't fail. I REFUSE to fail. Luis : NO!!! I CAN'T LOSE! I PUT TOO FREAKING MUCH INTO THIS!! QUIT?? NOW?? YOU GOT TO BE !@#$ KIDDING ME!! LET'S GO!! Abby : ???!!!! The result was nothing short of spectacular, For one completely inspired, ethereal stretch, everything just clicked. The adrenalin was overflowing. All the pain disappeared., not a trace. I was running like I just started on one of them BHS races. Abby was shocked out of her wits, but kept pace as much as she could. We were passing the others at will, and it was just an incredible turn of events. At a time when we were covering about 4 kilometers an hour tops at around 15:00 min/km pace, we zoomed to an unfathomable (given the circumstances) 5:50 min/km pace. Even I myself was shocked. In plain and simple terms, we had earned back that extra hour that we had lost earlier with the effort.
And in one fell swoop, we were back in the game.
Cruise Control
We had to slow down eventually and fall back into a run/walk pattern as it was Abby's turn to bonk. The sudden speedwork zapped her, and our support car was nowhere to be found. AJ and Duart were plotting our trends in between naps, and they had missed out on the sudden surge. They were at least 5 kilometers away and couldn't seem to find us in their best Keystone Cops routine. Abby was running out of water and Gato as the sudden anaerobic spurt was getting the best of her. With the national engineering boundary for Tarlac in sight, it was somewhat my turn to keep her in there. Eventually the groggy gang caught up, likewise shocked at the little stunt we pulled off.
The adrenalin had worn off and everything was starting to hurt again, but at least Abby was better. As we soldiered on into the wee hours of the new day, we were comfortably settling into a pattern that we had first used when I paced her for the original Rizal Day 32k. It entailed choosing targets from within the prevailing landscape and run to that with no excuses. Let's run to the green house. Waiting shed. 2nd big telephone pole. From this point forth every second counted, each second running providing us a bigger buffer for what promises to be an explosive endgame.
Twenty Four Oras
Set a target. Run.Walk. Rest. As we were nearing the 24 hour mark entering the Tarlac capitol, I was fighting with everything I had. I could scarcely believe that I was still here - alive, standing, running and with a real shot at taking this home. Good vibes. Even the boys were egging me on. Let's do this pap. Let's take this home.
Hitting the 24 hour mark was a poignant, goosebump inducing- milestone. But it wasn't over. Not just yet.
Daytime Shocker
Shocking, because I was still here. Because Abby was approaching 30k pacing me with nary a sign of fatigue. But the single most shocking, absolutely mind-blowing thing that jolted our senses was seeing a crumpled, hobbling figure on the other side of the road. It was Tatay Jonel. I last saw him just after the 50k mark and had figured he had finished hours before.. He looked deathly pale, and our attempts to ask what was wrong were met with some semi-lucid hand gestures, presumably gesturing us to go ahead. Another dagger straight into our hearts. .If I were Daniel- san, he was Master Miyagi. If this were a war, that was our general right there. And right now our general was telling me to leave him and let him be. Reluctantly, we had to pass him, taking painful solace in the thought that this was his battle to face, his mountain to conquer. Just a bit more, and glory would be his.
Hopefully, it would all be ours.
100% Pure Guts
Digging Deep
The sun was starting to beat down and the pain on my left foot was off the charts. Any form of movement would generate a certain level of pain that seemingly only a shot of morphine could negate. Nevertheless, the excitement was building, and we were trending well as we were entering the 140k mark. I could sense it in Abby's voice. We got this babe!! Just a bit more!
Meanwhile, the crew was on chillax mode. A supremely confident AJ was already looking at breakfast plans while Duart was doing a little premature celebrating
Breakfast, anyone? Wrong Mistake
I was trying to amp up every step as we were hitting the right turn that was supposed to lead us to the Capas National Shrine. Pain was mortifyingly bad, I've run out of adjectives to describe it. If my Garmin was correct, we just had 13 more kilometers to go to glory. You know how towards the latter part of a marathon, say around 40-41k, you just attempt to block out everything in an attempt at a strong finish? I was trying to pull off the same thing here. In my head, we got this, let's get it over with. As we reached the crossroad, me and Abby ran into Coach Rey Antoque for the final pangtali which serves as your time stamp (they have a knack for just appearing out of nowhere). I asked him how much further, 12k na lang daw. But my strategy was thrown into disarray when veteran ultra dude Ron Sulapas, still very much in the game, told us it was more like 18k out. 18k??You have got to be kidding me. Coach just said 12k! Abby was getting pissed off because we couldn't seem to get a clear picture of much further we were going. Even AJ and Duart weren't quite sure. Thankfully, Doc Art somehow managed to catch up with us, and he seemed to know the way. Amidst the last-minute chaos, a glanced at my watch. If it were 18k more... .
I need to start running. Now.
Malayong malayo pa Kuya... .
It's getting to be hot. Really hot. Once again, the lack of a test run couldn't have been more evident as we entered the busy, winding streets going to the shrine. For someone who had made it to to this point relying heavily on pace, distance and time projections... . now I didn't have the slightest damn idea where we were going. Or how far we were. Abby was starting to look a little bit wasted, but was tremendously effective as a drillmaster/inspirational leader. The pain, oh God I don't want to think about the pain anymore. I knew that they were all blistered up, but at this point that was the last thing on my mind. Just wanted this over and done with. I tried asking a tricycle dude how far off we were from the shrine, and was met with an incredulous reply that serves as the header of this paragraph. Digging into what seemed to be my 7th wind already, I was spilling my blood and guts onto that pavement already. Malayo pa ba... ..
Panandaliang Ligaya
AJ and Duart were scrambling to get distance projections and to give nearly per kilometer support for us. This was the final stretch. Winning time baby. I had gone through so many up and down cycles that I had lost track already. The term "threshold of pain" has been redefined several times already that I may just end up giving it an altogether different meaning after the whole thing. Quite truly, it takes a different animal to tame this distance. I would whine incessantly, the lack of a clear goal bothering me. AJ kept on trying to explain the projections but nothing was entering my brain. Both me and Abby were at the mercy of the elements, and right now it wasn't showing that much.
After what seemed like an eternity of pain, the gates of the Capas National Shrine beckoned. Me and Abby were going nuts, the joy was impossible to contain. She kept on telling me that she was proud of me. But wait, there was a catch. To successfully complete the distance, we had to do an extra loop past the monument and back to do a full 100-miler. We were all told of this beforehand. Problem with me was, in my semi-delirious state we thought it was pretty near. I could swear that someone said 5k na lang! Malapit na!
Rule #1 : Don't listen to strangers.
Rule #2 : Never, EVER take "malapit na" at face value.
Rule #3 : " 5k" is relative .
The Final Showdown
Pain. Suffering. Guts. Determination. It's been such an emotional rollercoaster for us and I couldn't stop thanking Abby for willing me to this point. We got news that there have been only been less than twenty finishers, maybe I could even crack the top 20. So all we need to do is cruise, relax, game over. We couldn't have been more mistaken about the entire thing. You know that feeling when you know the race is over and your levels start to normalize? Then all the aches and pains come in? Of course it's normal.
My problem was, it happened to me just a couple of kilometers early.
AJ and Duart were intentionally withholding it at that time, but they knew that the full route was a 4.5 killer uphill and back to cover the missing 9k from the original 151k historic route. Our first inkling was when we saw TPB icon Junrox Roque looking spent, probably the first time I ever saw him him in that state. Argow, OJ, Kelly Lim, I haven't seen them in hours and yet there they were on the homeward journey. Two things. Either they had all slowed down like crazy... . or that final stretch was so far out and difficult that it took them forever to get back. I wasn't about to put my money on the former.
That last 4.5k uphill stretch ranks as probably the greatest physical and mental challenge I have ever faced. After 150 kilometers of running over nearly 27 hours , an extended uphill stretch is the last thing you would ever want to see at that point. Everything was sinking in, my system rejecting everything. I was puking out the gels, and even Gatorade was nauseating. The heat was simply unbearable. I wanted to collapse. Every labored step would elicit a pained yelp from me. If I were to capture a microcosm of the suffering and sacrifice of the actual Death March, I was going through it right there. Abby was compelling me to move forward, but she was in tears as she could see, feel my suffering so near the goal.
Mybody and mind have both shut down. I have squeezed every last ounce of humanly strength that I could. There is... . nothing more. To the last drop. The uphill climb seems to be endless with no relief in sight. Going up the hill with my eyes closed, I nearly fall over Abby. My battered soul lets a blood curdling yell, a final testament to the flawed limits of human physical endurance. Truly, why did I ever subject myself to this anyway? When will it ever end?
Alas, I refuse to be denied. This is it. This is my moment. When all is gone, the spirit will always remain. I am running on utter fumes and Abby is willing me to that line. Because as one would realize when doing ultramarathons, , this " war" that I've been harping about since the very beginning is not fought on a battlefield with guns or soldiers or generals. It is fought in the inner recesses of your own mind. Drawn out into the outer fringes of your own heart. YOU are your greatest enemy... .. and greatest ally at the same time. It is a dichotomy that has no equal, accessible only to the chosen few who dare tread that fine line.
Suck it up. Pain is temporary. Glory is forever.
Everything is just a blur now, unraveling in my head as some high- definition, stop-motion slideshow. That final agony of running downhill. Running into Cebu ultragal Haide Acuna who was going strong as she entered her own final battle. Entering the monument while running at full speed, tears streaming down our cheeks as the magnitude of an accomplishment that couldn't have been farther from reality was slowly sinking in. The unbridled, once-in-a-lifetime joy of finally crossing a finish line 29 hours and 30 minutes after I had left its counterpart a hundred miles away. Hugs from the man who gave me a chance to show my mettle when very few believed I could do it. Hugs from a crew who didn't have to do it, but did anyway for the sake of a friendship that has stood the test of time. Hugs from the best girlfriend in the universe, who gave so much of herself to the endeavor and whose unshakable, iron-clad belief in my ability when even I myself had lost faith proved to be the winning quotient.
I said it once, I'll say it again - BDM is not for the faint of heart. But for those who dare, it will provide that introspective journey that life in general is largely bereft of . It affects you. It changes your emotional blueprint, and shakes the very foundations of your self-belief at its most visceral level. It's a life's experience's life experience, providing you with tall tales of glory and determination meant to be passed down from this generation to the next.
To those who are wondering if I will ever subject myself to the same, er, unique experience in the future, the answer is a big resounding NO. Never. Never ever.
But then again, wasn't that the exact same thing I said last year?
Let's face it - we all run for different reasons. Some run for the obvious health benefits, some for the camaraderie, some for the er, girls (or boys). But for a certain competitive segment of the running community, the thrill of the sport has a lot to do with constantly outdoing your personal best.Oftentimes these runners are fast. Faster than you and me.In common running parlance, we often call them "monsters" or "halimaw" - non-elite yet highly competitive runners who take great satisfaction in continually redefining their limits each and every time they race.
This totally unofficial list aims to celebrate and recognize those who are engaged in this perpetual dalliance against time, and who put in the requisite blood, sweat, and tears en route to achieving their respective goals.The best part is - they're not dropping superhuman, Olympic-level times out there. They're ordinary folks like you and me, which means... it can be done!
So what do you get out of it? Nothing really. Pride? Honor? Bragging rights? Googability? And who knows, maybe a fun shirt down the line (hint) (wink) We'll be updating this as the data comes in, and I guess may provide you folks out there with something extra to shoot for.
Monsters are... fun.
As a purely-for-fun undertaking, there's one cardinal requirement aside from posting halimaw-like times - I need to have at least met you once in person, and a little sensible conversation never hurt :) Why? Well how will I get your time then with a certain measure of credibility if you're an, er, complete stranger? It's also in the spirit of fostering this fun community we have. I can't be posting sub-40 times from anonymous entries sent online, in the vernacular baka alamat lang ung PR diba :) If we've met, and your times qualify but you're not on the list leave a comment so I can update it, am not very good with numbers. I know several more who qualify, I just have no way to contact them. By the way, a ladies list is in the works as well so wait up for that as well.
P.S. - Ranking will not include elite runners, running legends or fun people :P Sorry Zorro.
I not happy at all.
So without further ado, here's the inaugural Totally Unofficial GBM Monster List, grouped by distance. Hope you have fun with it! : 5k Monsters : 1. Jon "under160" Trimble - 17:09 2. Graciano "Totoy" Santos - 17:20 3. Mari Javier - 18:xx 4. Edward "Conquer Corregidor" Kho - 19:xx 5. Chris Iblan - 20:00 6. Wilnar Iglesia - 20:36 7. Patrick Alcomendas - 20:58 8. Jixee Lagunda - 21:02 9. Mark "Mark's Vo2" Parco - 21:08 10. Junrox "Tigerboy" Roque - 21:42 11.Dennis "RunningPinoy" Ravanzo - 22:22 12.Natz "i2runner" Garcia - 22:30 13.Alfred "El Kyoshi" De los Reyes - 22:18 14. Jonel "Bugobugo"Mendoza - 22:xx 15.Mark "Running My Mouth" Hernandez - 23:04 16. Brando "Ace" Losaria - 23:33
Aww. Just when we were getting all excited. The aforementioned series got bumped to next year, to quote in PR-speak, " to give a lot more people a chance to register for this exciting event". In real-world speak, that means "holy crap only five people have registered, move it you fools!". Okay maybe four did. Just jostling. Anyway, this would give you guys more time to prepare for this, the season -enders have packed the calendar and even I couldn't attend this.
Anyway, here's the official word from my good buddy Cesar Alagar Jr. of Finishline. Feeling close ako haha. Will keep you posted for any more updates. Greetings!
We would like to let you know that the InMotion: ROAD X TRAIL events, which is supposed to start this Saturday, will be moved next year.
This is to give a lot more people a chance to register for this exciting event. There were are lot of interested people who aren't available due to the holidy break. So let us help you have a jumpstart this coming Year of the Rabbit! Those who aren't available this December will now have a chance to engage themselves into this race to a fit and healthy body!
All registrations will still be deemed valid. Here's the new schedule, so please take note of these dates on your blog, and your posted articles:
Cycling – From December 11, 2010 to February 13, 2011, Sunday morning Running – From December 18, 2010 to January 15, 2011, Saturday afternoon Duathlon – From December 19, 2010 to January 16, 2011, Sunday morning
Help us spread the word! You may check out http://finishline.ph for more info of the new dates.
We sincerely apologize for this postponed event. Rest assured that you will have a wonderful sporting race this 2011.
Hey gang. I took a week off due to a very hectic schedule, but otherwise here's the latest lowdown on all and and sundry in the running and multisport communities.
Multisport aficionados are buzzing about the country's participation at Ironman China on May 29th, with the Philippine delegation presumably campaigning under the "One Pilipinas" banner. The full Ironman distance will be held on May 29th, and this early the country's top triathletes are already ramping up for what promises to be one of the most highly anticipated multisport events of the current season.
The year's edition will be held at a completely new venue in Jixian, Tianjin province. The race takes advantage of the perfect late spring weather of the locale, and people are scrambling to look for wetsuits as temperatures during the swim leg ( to be held at a clean water reservoir) are expected to be in the low 20's. Among others, Endure Multisport's ITU Level I Coach James Dulalia is expected to compete in the 70.3.
2012 goal : IM China. Smirk. Wait, I need to learn how to swim a wee bit faster.I timed myself swimming 500m and the average was 3:18 per 100m. Wow. Any recos regarding a coherently structured program?
One of them more hilarious threads in Takbo.ph has someone creating a firestorm amongst running denizens by stating that he's aiming for a 4:30 marathon with 6 weeks training. He's an admittedly newbie runner with a 2:15 21k pr. 2:15 x 2 = 4:30. Makes total sense (x_x). While I can't discount the possibility that he may be a genetic freak blessed with iron will, truly there is nothing scientific about this approach and leaves a lot of room for long term injury. Seems that there's an obsession with distance amongst the newer runners, like some sort of prestige thing. I can't blame them, I was once in their shoes. But latest news through the grapevine is that a lot of the newbies who rushed into buying a 42k slot are "downgrading" due to injury. Conventional wisdom (or lack of it) wielding its ugly head? Don't say we didn't warn you. Oftentimes we all feel invincible until it actually happens to us.
Congratulations to my TPB fellas for snagging three of the top 10 slots during BR's first BDM test run. Why do I get the feeling you guys raced it like a marathon?
On a happy note, congrats to Takbo.ph head first couple Jinoe and Que for welcoming their first- born , cute baby Gab. I think this early, they're already having him undergo heat training :P
Heat training this early never hurt
"Holdapan" is on the rise with both road and mountain bikers very susceptible to syndicates on the prowl for expensive bikes. To all our fellow cyclists out there, extra prudence and vigilance. It's good that Senator (and sometimes cyclist) Pia Cayetano has actively sought out the help of the PNP in thwarting these so-called bikejackers. These bikes represent a massive investment on the part of their owners, and this announcement somehow alleviates the growing concern brewing in the community. Even if the skeptic would say that it is only political grandstanding, a placebo never hurt right?
Last I checked, using a gel during a race was never considered "cheating". Let me check again ha.
To cyclists : does using Viagra during a race really help your performance by as much as 40%? Wouldn't there be a little, er, stiff discomfort down there?
It works. It really does.
If I have Team Powerpuff Boys for running, I also have a newly formed dedicated cycling team! Say hello to Quest 825 Cycling :) It's a mixture of cyclists from different multisport teams, and we'll try to give the pros a run for their money.
Quest 825 Cycling at PCL's Jala-Jala Classic
Okay, maybe that would take a little more time . Having previously completed Bike King's Tour of Matabunkay (dubbed as the premiere multi-day road race event for amateur cyclists) in god-awful conditions, I had a certain amount of confidence coming into this race. The team had spent the past couple of weekends toiling around the proposed race route at a strong pace, and regular speed work with the pro peloton at the Mall of Asia had us pretty hopeful for this race. A more discerning eye could even call it subliminal swagger. Fate had other ideas though. A late assembly caused us to reach the start line at Pililia barely 15 minutes before the race was about to start. Suffice to say, all that last minute rushing didn't exactly put us in the most relaxed state of mind. My eerie observation was that there were barely any triathletes around. This seemed to be a pure cycling event where we were virtual noobs from the outside looking into a close- knit fraternity. The peloton breezed through a fast-paced neutral zone for the first 40k, but even then the rough roads of Jala-Jala were taking its toll. I've never seen so many cyclists get flat tires. A portent of things to come? Just as we were prepping for the start of the breakaway, a guy was avoiding a ginormous crater on the road and tried to cut left. Unfortunately, in perhaps a split-second loss of focus, he missed out on speeding pros who were catching up after the requisite jingle . Hard break. My tire hits his tire. I uncleat. Some guy hits me from behind. I fall over.Pain. Guys to the right ram right straight into me while I'm on the ground. Wheel straight to shoulder. More pain. At that point it was sheer machismo that had me prop straight back up, but damn my knee and shoulders hurt like heck. I haven't gone 500 meters when I was pulled over by a marshal, turns out my transponder was bent to the point that it was nearly hitting my wheel. By the time I had sorted everything out, the road was as deserted as high noon at the OK Corral. The pain was not deathly, but bad enough to add to the aggravation of doing an ITT over a hilly 110 km course. Thoughts of just calling it a DNF day constantly swirled through my head. Entering the 8k climb at Mabitac, my overcompensated left leg started to cramp up bad, and I was forced to dismount several times (rubdowns from our teammates supporting were a boon) After a draining mental battle, I finally reached the hilltop finish and almost instantaneously cramped up on both legs. As I would learn later, it was a tough day at the office for nearly everyone. Endure powerhouse Erick Guieb ( the only Cat 3 rider on the team) also crashed and lost significant minutes off his target. Multisport vets James Dulalia and Ronald Declarador DNF'd. Strong riders Emil Ancheta and Julius Dela Rosa both succumbed to cramps and exhaustion. If any,mercurial Jason Dela Rama made up for a string of shaky performances by finishing strong and bullstrong Wilnar Iglesia's better-than-expected time were bright spots, but in general the team had a tough day at the office. Back to the drawing board, but there's nowhere to go but up.
Preparing for two big events spanning two disciplines (PCL and Condura) is tough, and somehow I feel burnt out. A 130k ride/32k run combo on successive days left me sluggish for the entire week after.Once again, back to the drawing board.
As we welcome one new life into the world, sadly another one is snuffed out in the cold of the night. Yesterday, the entire multisport and ultramarathon communities lost a member of the family in J Cu Unjieng, who succumbed to a severe case of pneumonia. I'm not completely in the know with regard to what exactly happened, but word is ever since he collapsed at a Cebu race he was never the same. We both have regular columns with Frontrunner magazine, and I got to run with him for a good 20-30k during the last edition of BDM. There was a time I didn't know a lot of these fancy triathlon people, and he was one of the first to make me feel welcome in the community. Always self-effacing, I last saw him during speedwork at MOA two or three months ago. The vicious abruptness with how his disease progressed was nothing short of shocking. The world will miss your talent and wit my friend, may you rest in peace.
Massive loss for the community. Anyway, bittersweet news for this edition. Alas, we soldier on. See you all next week, catch you on the road.
As I glanced anxiously at my 305, the grim reality was sinking in. Unless I pull of an Usain Bolt, there was absolutely no way I would be hitting my goal. I need to leave everything out there. Right here. No tomorrows. A final push, one last heave for glory netted a 4:53 final lap... .
And I missed it by 15 seconds. Damn.
Thank God for Google Images
But wait, we're getting ahead of ourselves. It all started on a stormy Saturday night at Glorietta 4 ... .
GBM: Miss, may I register for the 10k? Thank you. ECO-Dash Counter Girl : Eto po. 300 lang. GBM: Hmmm. Where's the singlet? EDCG: Ay, naubos na po, nung Sunday pa. GBM: Aaah, ok.
(walks away, opens race packet, goes back)
GBM: Miss, why do you have two bibs? That is quite... unconventional . EDCG: Ay Sir, ung isa para sa harap, ung isa sa likod. First time niyo ho ba? GBM: Uh... . It's actua.. EDCG: Okay lang ho, kaya ninyo yan, basta hinga malalim lang.Nauso na nga yang ranning na yan eh. Nga pala sir, rain or shine yan tuloy!
So for 300 bucks I ended up with 2 race bibs, a bit of a weird conversation... . and that was pretty much it. Not that it actually matters - I heard a lot of gripes about its "minimalist" design - but I was hoping to get more bang out of my 300 bucks. Internet legend Tito Caloy was supposed to grace us with his presence, but was apparently caught up deep in training for the San Mig National Drinking Finals. So I went out on a dreary Sunday morning, in hopeful anticipation of the great unknown, what with so many intangibles put into play.
"Secret" Training If you have been following this blog from time to time, then you're probably aware of my well-chronicled struggles against the menace that is ITBS.
Gone for good? Forced to drastically cut down mileage , I put in a couple of duds at some of our recent races. I was already thinking, Am i done ? Is that it for me? Visions of a surgically repaired Samboy Lim and Shaun Livingston looking like ghosts of their old selves haunted me. What if I'll never regain my old form? Through the thankful intervention of a higher power, I have been running relatively pain free for the past several weeks. That's when I decided to flat out just go for out it. Serious training for two weeks, harder than I ever trained before. I was going to secretly target a sub-50 time for this race, if I fail I could just say I was "pacing" someone. So what did I do exactly?
If I told you, then it wouldn't be a secret anymore, right? :) :p
The Case of the Missing Ipod
In an extremely weird twist of fate, I lost my beloved iPod the day I learned that my quest for that elusive Master's degree was finally over. Ahh. My life seems to be in bittersweet symphony right now. But what should I do? I find it extremely hard to run without music, I seem to be grossed out by my own snarly breathing.
Will give dog for ipod Thankfully, I found a weird-looking Mp3 player lying around the house, the type you could get for 500 bucks at the mall. 256 mb, no song randomizer, weird shape. Sold! At this point, I would have brought a Walkman to the race if need be.
If you ever ran with one of these, thanks for visiting my blog Master!
The Race Itself
Okay, let's be practical. Due to the nature of this belated post, by now you should have already read a plethora of blog entries outlining how drenched we were, how there was a lack of marshals along Bayani, et.al. Obviously, I won't go there - your time is more precious than mine. Instead, let's go straight to the crux of the matter, punctuated by the precise songs blaring from my cheapo Mp3 player in homage to my newly departed and dearly beloved Ipod.
Kilometer 1 - Dreamgirls Theme (not a word)
Jesus Christ and Mary it sure is cold! I don't think I have ever started a race at this temp, it's even colder than when we did Botak Baguio. Oh shoot , crappy Mp3 player auto adjusts its volume everytime you turn it off. It's .. it's not loud enough! I still hear my own breathing! Crap. Where do they make this thing anyway? Rain is pouring down pretty bad, I don't have time to get it out of my hydrobelt. Yes it's that pathetic I need to squeeze it into my hydrobelt. Opening pace is at 4:29, think I could have gone faster but the rain is slowing me down. Just passed a runner who is complaining about the rain audibly. Hmmm, chess isn't so bad once you get used to it.
All you got to do is dream...
Kilometer 2-3 - Do You Believe In Magic - Loving Spoonful
So I got out of the bane of all runners this side of town in one piece. The Kalayaan Flyover was my first major hurdle, and I did a 4:44/5:03 on it, first time I ever hit a sub-5 split on it. People walking all around me. Yes, it does get the best of you. Given that 82.67% of all Sunday race routes pass through this point, I'm guessing it doesnt have too many fans.Much like an untamed beast in the wilderness, oftentimes you can but just hope and pray you live to tell the tale. Relatively unscathed, I come flying downslope. Current total pace is at 4:45. So far so good.
Yup, never heard of em' either
Kilometer 5 - VST & Co. - Sumayaw Sumunod
Wow, these drivers are crabby! You woulwd think that they'd be more relaxed on a Sunday morning. The honking was reminiscent of Edsa Dos. Unfortunately, seems that we're the subjects of their profanity-laced tirades. They should go to the Kanye West School of Charm.
It's just like rush hour traffic, only on a Sunday. Why so angry?
Completed the halfway point at 23:48, that may just possibly be my best 5k split ever. Route reminds me of my Globe Run for Home debacle. Is this my day of vindication?
Sumabay sa mga bagong tugtugin ngayon... .
Kilometer 7-8 - Eraserheads - Huwag Kang Matakot
As much as I would like to imbibe the E-heads spirit on this, the pressure was so intense it was hard not to be. The homeward bound Kalayaan Flyover won this round, dropping me to a 5:22/5:34 split, breaking both my body and spirit. The pressure was getting to me , and I was starting to panic inside. Total pace had dropped to an even 5:00, which meant that I would be missing my target. More panic. I need to make up time. But I'm zapped out. Must... soldier... on. Just 2k more... ...
One of their last albums before calling it quits
Kilometer 9-10. Amy Winehouse - Rehab. They say that running is just as much mental as physical, sometimes even more. I completely agree, 100%. Here I was , on the cusp of beating one of my biggest running goals, and I was doing a completely chokejob. Mentally, I was messed up. I was freaking out and panicking. Prematurely celebrating, I was even thinking of a title for the blog post already. Physically, I was spent. Blatant lack of training. A quick, anxious glance at the 305 showed 45:00 with a little over a kilometer to go. Running on fumes, a blatant attempt to let it all hang out was hatched.
However, the grim reality was sinking in. Unless I pull of an Usain Bolt, there was absolutely no way I would be hitting my goal. More panic. I need to leave everything out there. Right here. No tomorrows. A final push, one last heave for glory... .
And I missed it by 15 seconds. Damn.
Gut-wrenching. I broke down mentally that last two kilometers. Got caught up in the moment so to speak. Wasn't able to deliver. On the precipice of success, I blinked. And in that nanosecond, I missed the bus. At the highest echelons of all sports, this is what separates the men from the boys. The winners from the pretenders. It's that requisite mental toughness designed to take you to the next level.
I think I need to go to rehab after this
Overall, it was a bittersweet moment. I still set a new 10k PR at 50:14, lopping of a minute and a half from my pre-injury best. Was a tremendous day for Takbo.ph denizens Sam, Vicky, and Argo as they all set new records on their 21k times. Tremendous improvement. Keep up the good work guys!
PR people with podium gal Carins
John Lloyd an d... Luis? In retrospect, this race taught me a lot about myself. Getting so near, only to falter in the end inspires me to do even better next time around. To quote William Ernest Henley, "my head is bl oody, but unb owed". Indeed, we all live to run another day.
And sometimes, in the greater scheme of things
That's all that really matters.
Editor's Note : Results just came in, wanted to add that this performance was good enough for 26th place amongst 532 runners in the category, my best finish ever :P
I never thought I could ever balance myself on two wheels. You ever saw that 8-year old kid stuck in the playground trying to not fall after yaya let go of the bike while his playmates were zooming up and down? That was me .With zero athletic skills whatsoever, I was relegated to being this fat Gingerbread kid stuck indoors reading Encyclopedia Brittanica (meron pa ba nun?) while downing half a gallon of ice cream. By the time I did finally get the whole bike thing down, it wasn't too long before I hit semplang city en route to breaking my wrist in three places. Bike was sold the following day. Sob.
Putting all of that into consideration, never in my wildest imagination did I ever envision that two decades later I would be entrenched in an actual multisport battle with my former Waterloo serving as one of the primary instruments. But wait, we're getting a little ahead of ourselves here. What malignant spirit (in tagahlog, maligno) possessed me to get into the whole thing anyway? Let's take a quick look back.
Who would have known? I've been running for quite some time now. Well at least for someone who could never quite stick with a singular "hobby", I'd like to think that the fact that I've been at this for several years goes to show that it has already transcended the "hobby" label iand has actually evolve into a sustainable lifestyle. Back then, it wouldn't be too uncommon to spot this marshmallow-like 200 pounder to tread the sweep packs of them P250 races. No iPad registration, no fancy whatever. You got your finish times with the tried and tested, mano mano "timing cheap"system. Rio could still walk around race corrals without getting mobbed, and the word "singlet" was pretty much an unknown commodity to the mainstream public.
In the years hence, running has literally taken over my life. I've gone from the guy who once ran from Ortigas to Cubao in three hours and declared it "his greatest running achievement " (a lame 10k) to completing the dreaded 102k Bataan Death March Ultramarathon in sweltering conditions. I've made so many friends and been part of so many meaningful experiences as a part of this burgeoning community, and as luck would have it a lot of the mid-term running goals I had set for myself were thankfully met.
Run Fatboy GBM Run circa early-mid 2008 However, I realized that as you keep on pushing and pushing , one day it would just push back at you. Suddenly, hitting those cherished PR's became progressively harder, and the feeling of burnout started to surreptitiously creep up on me. The toll of being in 8 to 12 week training blocks practically all year for the past couple started to manifest already. Once the smoke cleared, the verdict was pretty clear.
I needed to take a break. But then what?
No way in heck was I going back to my sedentary, couch potato lifestyle. Worked too long and too hard to throw it all away. No chance of completely giving up running either, I love the sport too much to be completely away from it.
Then it dawned on me that a perfect compromise was actually possible. I can actually try something new without turning my back on running. And with that realization, I decided to dive into the uncharted waters of multisport.
We can all dream... ..
Multisport? Woah now. As the notion of competing with ultrafit triathletes with 5% body fat came to mind, two immediate problems came bubbling up before I could even kick out of the daydream (read: Inception reference). One, I didn't have a bike. Two, I haven't rode one in twenty years and the last time I did, it landed me in the hospital. Not exactly the ideal lasting memory for a wannabe noob like me right?
Not-so-fond biking memories
I gave it a long hard look. Stick with what I know, or be a newbie all over again? Being the competitive guy that I am, I hate being the clumsy new guy . Loathe it even. I mean, I'm the guy who didn't raise his hand when they asked who were the first timers in spin class. But alas, what's the spice to life if we don't explore the deep dark unknown right?
So to make a long story short, I just went out on a limb and went for it. After endless questions and consults from seasoned multisport friends (thank you for the patience), I finally got my own road bike. Realizing the penchant for people to give their roadies names, jumping on the bandwagon wasn't too far off. The new roadie was christened "Bob". Why Bob? I haven't the slightest idea. But it sure as heck sounded a lot better than "Grimace".
Why hellow Bob. Along with the first few awkward rides came the abrupt realization that there was so much more to a roadie than your typical CCP Sunday bike. There were tons of nuances with seatpost height, riding position, enough parts to fill a book and a shifting system that at first glance seemed terribly complicated to crack. Who would have known a simple bike would have so much science to it?
Its, er, complicated.
Now what's a roadie if you ain't going to use it right? I got wind through the grapevine about the 2nd leg of the Powerade Duathlon series. A duathlon. Wow. Run Bike Run? How hard could it be? How would I do? What's a T1? My insatiable curiosity won out on this instance, and I soon found myself coughing up a cool P1,000 for the reg. If you those P850 "premium" races give you grief, better be prepared for a shock with multisport, where managing more logistics account for the higher fees.
Gulp. Knowing that people put months and months worth of training into this sort of event, my boorish, ill-prepared self just wanted to set a benchmark. After all, experience is still the best teacher right? In two weeks I tried to unscientifically cram as much mileage and "brick" (to the uninitiated, combined discipline workouts to replicate the actual race. They usually make you feel like you were hit like a ton of bricks afterward. Or maybe that's just me) sessions into my routine, if only to be prepared at least mentally.
Brick 1 GBM 0.
D-Day comes around. I'm a nervous wreck. Each nervous tic, each anxiety-fueled fidget was amplified by what seemed to be an eternal wait for slumber to take me out of my misery. I've been in more races than I could remember but this was as an entirely new thing for moi. Armed with just guts and pretty much nothing else, so many questions crossed my mind as we were making the pleasant drive to Filinvest on a cool Sunday pre-dawn. "How do we check in? Paano nilalagay ung body marking thing? How do put the bike on the rack? Can we run in the transition area?" So many questions that only the hard knocks gained from experience could alleviate. Abby must have been remotely amused as the butterflies in my stomach were getting the best of me.
UGH. I hate being the newbie guy.
Kabado. We got there early. WAY early even. As I would come to realize with these multisport things, they never seem to start early. Good thing old Takbo.ph buddies who had gone the multisport route were also competing, and they provided the "homey"atmosphere that proved to be a salve for my nerves. As it was, Team Endure was also making its debut race replete with fancy triathlon suits. I wondered to myself when I would be worthy to put on one.
Trying my best not to be a nervous looking clueless dude
With the help of friends, the body marking and bike rack issues I was so antsy about turned out to be overstated. And before we knew it, we were off to the starting corral . 6k run beckoned. Now, this may not seem a lot. But obviously, this was the first time that I would be doing a 30k bike ride in between. I was advised to hack it on the safe side and go for a 5:15 pace. Be competitive fool that I am, I figured that I'll suck out on the bike anyway, what have I got to lose. So a tempered attack was worked out bordering on the 4:40 level.
Attack where you are strong... . While relatively slow by road race standards, for some reason this was good enough to vault me into the upper half of the draw going into the first transition point from run to bike, or T1 in multisport jargon. Upon mounting, much to my chagrin I got bunched together with some of the stronger triathletes/duathletes. I freaked. They were passing me left and right, barking "BIKE BIKE BIKE" or "STAY IN YOUR LANE!!" Gak.
Speed Bagal Mode.
The primary goal was to survive the bike segment in one piece. So I played the role of the non-recalcitrant newbie to the hilt, allowing myself to be passed almost courteously. Geez. Oh well, I was in too much pain to mind anyway. The course was mostly flat, but there were two major inclines that zapped the bejesus out of me. The steeper one was impossibly difficult for someone like me with no bike shoes (and as I would learn later, the lack of uphill gears) to negotiate. At times,I felt it would have been better to just get off the bike and carry it with me uphill. Good thing the rest of the course was pleasant enough, with friends cheering me on at each of the 5 loops we had to complete. Last couple my legs were burning though, and the moment I dismounted to T2 I nearly fell over behind rubbery legs. Thank God no major mishaps here. One last 3k and I was good to go.
Konti na lang.
Surprisingly, I was a lot fresher here than expected. Got to maintain about a 5:15 pace for the rest of the way as the gels I took started to take effect. At this point I was thanking my lucky stars for my running base as I got to catch up with a lot of the strong cyclists who made me eat dust during the bike leg. Adrenalin pumping, it was all over before I knew it. Crossed the line with a big bear hug from Ultramarathoner Abby in 1:56:29, good for 86th overall and 16th place in my age group. I thought it was a decent finish for a noob, given the circumstances. And more importantly, it put to shame the debut time of my good buddy Piolow who logged a 2:06 during the first leg. Wohoo!
Noob no more.
Sigh. Who knew that the kid who once couldn't balance would one day survive a competitive race like this? Much less on two weeks preparation. I give all the thanks in the world to my Team Endure buddies for enduring (no pun intended) and patiently answering all my questions. Also a big shout out to Ironman Javy Olives of Tri'n Hard fame (IMHO one of the best written multisport blogs out there.) for all the knowledgeable and practical bike tips he gave me.
Cross that one off the bucket list. The glean of the triathlon now beckons. How riveting. One slight problem.
