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
Sigh. UAAP Season. That time of the year where the battle lines are drawn and people take sides depending on whether they spent time chasing the MC girls in Katipunan or if they practiced parking in impossible conditions over at Taft. As objective as I try to be, my green blood surfaces everytime we go up against the "abhorred" arch-rival and their "reprehensible" bonfires. Although the rivalry is tempered this year because we're fielding the weakest team we have had in ages and we're just getting blown off the court , I was fortunate enough to have had a roster boasting of Ritualo, Cortez and Cardona during my college years. Sigh.
Doesn't get any better than this
I'm pretty sure all the Ateneans and Lasallians will remember that tremendous Adidas campaign last year where they came up with the coolest school jackets ever? These became the must have items of the season, and they became so iconic that it wouldn't be too uncommon to see numerous people wearing them casually to the mall. Guilty as charged here. I had to badger Gingerbread Gal incessantly for one, and I would wear it wherever I went. Even if it was hot! Even if three other people would be wearing the same thing! The mystique of the rivalry and school pride has that effect on people.
Coolest jacket ever.
Well guess what? It's that time of the year again and the folks at Adidas have cooked up something once more for us seasonal UAAP fanatics. Specifically targeting Blue Eagles and Green Archers, Adidas has tied up with Sony in bringing to us the UAAP Fan Wear Collection promo.
I likey.
The mechanics are fairly simple. For every P2,000 single receipt purchase of any Adidas UAAP fan wear, you are entitled to a raffle entry that could win you any of the 12 Sony Vaio W netbooks at stake. As you may or may not know, netbooks are those newfangled micro-sized laptops that marry both portability and performance. Given that the Vaio brand is one of the most reputable in the industry, one is sure to covet its sleek 10.1 LCD screen along with a mammoth-sized 160 GB internal memory. My Compaq Presario is green with envy.
So there. Support your school, get the merchandise from August 17 to September 20 and you could bring home one of em' fancy lappies. I actually like their current "Times change ... but the Brotherhood Remains" campaign. Nice to synergize both old and new players into one intergrated campaign. Now if only we could get those old players to suit up for La Salle again so we'd actually win... ...
It's been just over a month since Adidas held its highly touted annual King Of The Road race. To pre-boom running denizens, KOTR was one of the most awaited races each year. The fact that it always seemed to have the best singlet of every season didn't hurt either.With the running community growing year in and year out, I'll rattle off ten quick things about this year's experience.
1. Singlet Fun? Last year's singlet took the cake, with a revolutionary yellow and black motif that has been ripped off endlessly in smaller races after. A lot of people I know last year registered if only to get that fancy singlet. Yes, it's happens more often than you think, and I'm guilty as charged. With that in mind, expectations were sky high for this season's event. How could they possibly top the best singlet to come out in ages? What fancy color scheme would the mad geniuses at their design unit come up with? Forum chit chat had numerous guesses , and rumors abound that the original color would be changed.
Nevertheless,excitement was at fever pitch.
In the end, they went with... ..
Black.
While it would possibly appeal to the minimalist, most people still preferred last year's edition. Decent singlet with sizing on the large side, add it to your collection stashed in your aparador. Last year the yellow and black ones were ubiquitous. In the weeks after, I barely see it on the road. Shucks.
2. ANR Singlets
Cheap, P995 bucks. Imported material coming from SG for the exclusive singlet of the Adidas Adination of Runners members. If you aren't in the know, it's a community-based group run/pseudo running clinic/random weekday social gathering held at different locations throughout the metropolis. Quick bit of useless trivia: I'm the lead facilitator of the Ortigas area sessions, and we meet every Wednesdays 7:30 pm at Pearl Drive Mcdonalds. Join us, it's a lot of painful fun. Going back to the singlet,I guess it's a decent deal if you have money to burn. For the price I paid for it, I feel faster already. Amazing.
p.s. Dear Adidas, I'm broke. Thank you.
Hmm, this makes it all worth it :P
3. 21k hotcakes
Last season, 10k kits ran out in a matter of days. This year, it seems that the running boom learning curve snapped up the kits before you could say pikermi. While projecting these things is like playing a game of sa pula sa puti at Resorts World, hopefully they could get it right next year.
4. Hydration Hydration.
Big fuss over hydration, or lack of it for the matter.After the race, I got into a semi-sensible discussion with some disgruntled runners at the Takbo.ph boards . Same old same old. Hydration runs out for whatever reason, blame the organizer. Vent it out online. Or on whoever has a contrarian opinion.
Listen, running is no joke, specially when you tread the middle to long distances. I know Rio spoils you to death with overflowing drinks for his races. That's awesome. But he won't be there all the time for you and you CANNOT expect the same level of organization for all races. Hope for the best but expect the worst. Races aren't Club Med, it's a legitimate athletic pursuit with your life possibly on the line. Would you really put your life in the hands of other people when you had complete freedom to bring your own hydration beforehand? And to whoever sardonically dissed me on that thread for suggesting it's your responsibility to bring your own hydration, I sure hope as heck you won't be needing that ambulance you suggested I bring with me on race day once you run out of drinks on your race. Splash.
It's worth it.
5. Pandesal and Hot Dogs.
I could have sworn that there was supposed to be a buffet for the runners. If they changed it, I totally missed it. The pandesal and hot dogs underwhelmed me, not that I was hungry anyway. Feel bad for the guy who thought he was at the buffet line, ANR registration pala.
Yum. 6. Alay Lakad
While I lucky enough not to be personally affected, people were complaining about how the massive crush made the route practically impossible to traverse. Some were relegated to doing a sort of Alay Lakad move. Quick question, is this phenomenon a totally unavoidable consequence of a really big race right smack in the boom ,or it could have been rectified by proper execution?
It's the next best thing.
7. 250k Baggage I sucked out at the 10k category I ran in, checking in at a modest 51 minutes or nearly 5 minutes off my usual time. Takbo.ph prez Jinoe lustily jeered me at the line for failing to break the sub-50 barrier (I am still serving a lifetime ban on being a Takbo.ph hoff for hitting it before him. Hihi.), but unbeknownst to my good friend, my rubbery gingerbread legs were bringing with them roughly 250 kilometers worth of crushing bike mileage. I had competed in the mutliple stage Tour of Matabungkay with Endure Multisport's cycling team just the day before, and with little sleep, I felt like I was dragging around a ton of bricks with me. Even if I felt my fitness level was at an all-time high, there was really nothing I could do. People were passing me left and right, and being the competitive nut that I am, the itch to just chase them down but having no physical capability to do so was driving me crazy. Still quite an experience though, revenge is due next year smirk.
Kalayaan 12, GBM 11 8. Fulfillment It was pretty nice to see a lot of my Adidas Adination Ortigas runners "level up" with this race, taking down 21k's with relative ease. When I first met some of them, they were tubby ordinary joes who could barely complete a 5k. Now they are fit, veritable weekend warriors already looking ahead to the upcoming marathon and ultramarathons in the 2011 calendar. Hmm... we must be doing something right eh? Proud "coach" here. Sniff.
This group has come a long way... 9. Kleptomania in the house.
Sucks. As I was busy facilitating the insane rush of people registering for the ANR sessions (the booth was mistaken for the baggage counter like a gazillion times) , I made terrible mistake of placing my brand new, fancy Adidas Techfit shorts (which set you back a cool P3,000 believe) on the counter. Amidst the mob scene, I thought nothing of it, it was like inches away from me. Much to my abject horror, I suddenly noticed it was gone. Aww shucks.That crap happens? Even here? And to think I tried my best to smile and humor the people despite the hassle and the crush of the crowd. Cruel. Chalk this one up to the "loss of faith in humanity" list.
Asar.
10. I will never run this race again!! That was what people said last year after the debacle in claiming the race kits. And yet this year even more people joined. I heard practically the same thing in the aftermath of the race, but why do I have this sneaky feeling the race will set another attendance record next year? Go figure.
Shoes. Nothing piques our fancy more than a nice new pair to break in. From time to time, I'll be running shoe reviews, depending on what comes in the mail. Expect these reviews to be brief, concise, and coming from a very practical runner's perspective.
On today's menu is the Adidas Supernova Sequence 2. While not as glamorous as the Adizero series , its precursor was known as a good stability shoe for moderate pronators (yeah, not the exag overpronators like me) that's somehow gives off the vibe of silent effectiveness.
Underappreciated?
It's main upgrade from the original series is that Adidas has now included a new "geofit" feature, a collection of padded areas inside the shoe that help out areas which receive the most pressure. The Sequence 2 has a lightweight sole with blown rubber coatings, and is supposed to be durable. The outsole also uses the "ForMotion" feature that helps to adapt to different angles or types of terrain. The shoe is supposed to be versatile, and Adidas suggests that it can be used for numerous different running styles.
I took it out for a quick spin on a leisurely 14k. Immediately noticeable was that it was heavier than my trusty, BDM-scarred Adizero Tempo. As the run progressed, I felt that it corrected my stride a lot more (maybe because of all that fancy" geofit material". OOooh.) and that it afforded a lot more stability. Better yet, my ITB didn't give way at the end. Amazing. Speedwork doesn't seem to be affected all that much by the incremental increase in weight. In hindsight, it's even lighter than my New Balance 848.
Style-wise, it's alright. As I said, not as glamorous as the Adizero line, nor doesn't give off the the vibe of a Asics GT. However, it has a workmanlike yet versatile excellent for everyday use and is excellent for those non-exag overpronators. I'd recommend it :P
So you read the header and it's gonna be one of those reviews again. Yes, it's one of those write-ups that would hinge on my verbose and completely un-expertlike opinion. But before we talk about this... .
Let's go back a couple of years... ... .
OBMC High. 1999. As I had mentioned before, was never really a fan of Adi Dassler's creations. Okay maybe I was . Once. I took the plunge a long time ago, from a time and place that seems to have been relegated to the far recesses of my mind. Wore the Kobe Bryant KB8 "Feet You Wear" shoe during my senior year just because they looked so different from any basketball shoe that was on the market at the time. It was the new "in" thing. And in high school's ever changing lexicon of social stratification, different + new = social status level up.
My ticket to high school social status nirvana Lord I'm such as sucker for effective advertising (x_x). I thought they were the coolest things ever, bragged about them incessantly, could have sworn they improved my standing from "freaky tall geek" to "he's just really strange don't mind him he has cool shoes anyway".
Geeky GBM got a boost with them chickies
But then the real test came when I had to play ball with it. With a lot of confidence, I went up for a fancy "tapboard" (people who played high school ball could relate), made my best Kobe impression and BAM I fell with a thud, breaking my ankle in three places. Strangely enough, my juvenile incarnation blamed the Adidas shoes for that, swore it to high heavens, and never wore another pair again... ..
Until now.
Flash forward to 2009, and lo and behold I have a pair of Adidas Adizero Tempos staring me in the face. Literally begging for a shot at redemption. Like a scorned lover acceding to one last shot at reconciliation, I took a leap of faith and went for it. Did it work out? Let's see how my 3-week dalliance with an old flame has worked out so far.
What's on the label :
It is a lightweight running shoe designed to give runners comfort and support over long distances. ForMotion stability adapts to the ground for improved handling and stability and the pro-moderator medial support device prevents overpronation. The TORSION SYSTEM gives midfoot integrity and adiPRENE in the forefoot maintains propulsion and efficiency.
The air mesh upper gives maximum ventilation and the perforated EVA tongue gives additional lightweight comfort and breathability. The dual-layer anti-microbial adiLite-respoEVA sockliner controls odor and gives added step in comfort. Finally, the adiWEAR outsole offers the ultimate in high-wear durability.
Dazed Reader, through SMS : WOAH. BLAH BLAH BLAH. You're talking Greek here! What the fudge was that all about???
Okay, okay. Let me give it a shot.
What I understood of the Adidas jargon mumbo jumbo :
The cushioning system of the shoe is backstopped by its hyped- up Formotion technology utilizing Adiprene 45 . The logic behind it is that you have a well-cushioned heel but not enough to make it bounce around during hard runs. Note, too much bounce = pain and suffering . Some more seasoned runners may view this as completely "babying" heel strikers, but that's one of the reasons why the Tempo is quite enticing to newbie runners.
In addition, mild overpronators can count on the shoes aptly named pro-moderator system to negate the level of pronation, utilizing two plastic heel plates that slow side-to-side movement.
And if just to avoid more jargon, the shoe has features which make it very breathable inside and minimize stitching, while providing good forefoot touch-off cushioning for the fast people out there.
Pedigree
The Tempo has been touted as the "performance stability" shoe in the Adizero series, providing the benefits of a lightweight racer along with enough stability to prevent you from blowing up your plantar or ITB. To those relatively unfamiliar with the Adizero line, these have been touted to be the lightest in their class, and have the distinction of being the shoes running legend Haile Gebrselassie used when he broke the marathon world record at Berlin.
Haile on Yellow Adizeroes en route to the WR
Weight Implication - Injuries, Training and Racing Its main selling point is that at barely 300 grams, the Tempos are nearly a 100 grams lighter than my old light stability shoes. Upon wearing them, you would barely feel that there's any resistance there at all. You can accelerate without the weird clunky feeling. At first, I was very apprehensive to try these out, as they look like the eye candy shoes you would wear to the mall and it seemed to me that any form of running on these would blow out my knee. Initially thought that these were limited to neutrals, but after nearly a month of using them, the injuries have thankfully been nowhere in sight. And to think I was coming off a bout with ITB. Whew.
Still look good despite taking a beating from the rain
After a few weeks on this, an attempt to use my old light stabs gave the feeling of having ten-pound weights on my foot. The difference was very noticeable. How noticeable? A good example was my tempo training on consecutive days. Same splits, same level of fitness, different shoes. With the old shoes, my best split was a 5:10/ km. The following day, same thing, I miraculously lowered it to a 4:40. I highly doubt I could have shaved 30 seconds off my split in a day. Was it the shoes? Placebo? Whatever it may have been, happy camper right here.
Racing-wise, two weeks later I set a 10k PR of 50:14 with the Tempos, shaving nearly a minute and a half off my previous best. The time was good enough for 26th place at Ayala Eco-Dash, which made me an even happier camper. Pertinent factors to keep in mind : No changes in training, weird level of fitness coming off an injury. Could it have been the shoes? You be the judge of that.
Other stuff that you need to know, just in case:
These are NOT wide shoes. When you first slip into them, coming from say a Mizuno or New Balance, your feet would feel constricted and with no wiggling room. I'm a US size 12, and these usually afford sufficient toe allowance. These ... did not. First time I ran on them they were so tight that I got near blisters on my toes.
I was about to completely give up on them and sell them to the people at Takbo.ph (even if I knew that they're going to ask for a ton of discounts) when the pain started to... disappear. Now I don't even notice it's there.It took about two weeks worth of break-in to get the job done. So for the well-endowed people out there, either you adjust your size or break it in well before racing it.
Final Take
Overall I find this to be the quintessential, aesthetically pleasing shoe that strives to synergize both form and functionality. For neutrals to mild overs looking for a highly serviceable speedwork or raceday shoe, this brings significant eye candy points to the table with decent stability to boot. Should you fall under this category, this is a very strong option right here.
So how would I evaluate the three-week reco with my old flame? Love affairs come and go, that's the nature of the beast. As one leaves for greener pasture, another comes in to fill the void. Everything that happens in between? Oftentimes forgotten. But sometimes, all it takes is a single spark to reignite the connection.
I hated Adidas. They broke my ankle.
But after three weeks of PR's and good races...
Guess old flames aren't so bad the second time around.
Main Entry: sin·glet Pronunciation: \ˈsiŋ-glət\ Function: noun Date: circa 1746
1 chiefly British : an athletic jersey; also : a collarless men's undergarment for the upper part of the body
Mr. Webster looks good in his old-school singlet
Chiefly British. Hmmm. Why was I not surprised? Only those dudes could take the sando and make it sound so sosy.So you're a singlet Ho. Yeah, admittedly. As I was writing my previous piece on newbie gaffes, I had mentioned there that the Adidas KOTR's singlet had taken my fancy. It's much akin to what you could buy at a store for like 700 or 800 bucks, and under that prevailing logic not only can you get the fancy singlet for a much cheaper price, you get a free fancy race as well.
As far as I know, you can get the singlets at their Running Expo this Saturday and Sunday at Megamall's Megatrade Hall, some ginormous event with fashion shows, running clinics and seminars. Not bad for 500 bucks eh? But dang, I can't wait that long! UGH. Must ... . get... hands... . on ... . KOTR singlet... ..
I still likey. NOW. Anyway, my thought process was jarred from its otherwise halcyon state as the ghosts of singlets past suddenly came back to haunt me. Singlets come in all shapes and sizes. Some are training-run worthy, some go straight to the bottom shelf cabinet for posterity. Others are spectacular, while most just plain suck. I've even come across some that are "large" but couldn't fit my younger sister if I had one.
With that in mind, I'll try to run you through some of the singlets that I have come across in the past, and how they measure up.
Takbo.ph Well, for me its still the coolest singlet ever, and I'm not just saying that because Boss Jinoe will fire me if I dont :P Our unofficial uniform during Sunday races, it's the "legacy" limited edition singlet that was given during the Condura Run Carbo-Loading Party several months back. I bet the singlet would do very well on the black market :P
The Airspeed Run Anyone remember this? This came from the era where Coach Rio was dabbling in the utilitarian, "tipid meals shut up and dont whine you only paid 250 bucks for this" style of singlet. I mean seriously, ask anyone. These were virtually unwearable in real life. Fabric was substandard, and even after losing like 30 pounds I still could not squeeze myself into one. Sigh, the good ol' days.
Men's Health Miracle Run Still remains to be one of my personal favorites. Was well made, had a cool design, and was an upgrade over the shirt that came with the first incarnation. Everyone was raving about it.. until they turned the singlet and saw a big "Frenzy" logo there. So much for wholesome family running fun. Oh, and yeah I'm still waiting for the official results.
Auto Review Run
Did you run this? Thought so too. But this is where my singlet hoeness came to the forefront. Saw the jpegs, thought it was awesome, left the office to register even if I had absolutely no intention of running it. Was somewhat disappointed with its substandard material and weird fit. Tito Caloy had fun running the race though.
Botak Ultramarathon 50k Milestone run for me, and wonderful, personalized singlet that elicited quite a stir at the time. I still sleep with it under my pillow at night.
Globe Run For Home I remember. Everyone was so excited about this race.Including me. First mainstream disposable chip-timed race. I was so excited that I risked running this on no training and still in recovery. Blew out my ITB as a result . Anyway, just as excitement was reaching fever pitch, the Coach Rio version 2.0 singlet was released. And tadah! Amidst tremendously high expectations, collective jaws dropped. Nuff said.
So with all these in mind, this finally brings us to...
Adidas King of the Road Yahoo! Yay! Prayers answered! It's the greatest thing since sliced bread. Fit is wonderful too! It rocks so much that I may very well ghost register someone just to get a spare, in case something happens to it. Haha just kidding of course. Yeah. Haha.
But if you do see me on Saturday or Sunday at Megatrade Hall, let's just make it our dirty little Gingerbread secret okay? :P
If you have any "vintage"singlets you may want to see the light of day, send me images through the Gingerbread Mailbox on the home page and lets do something fun with it :)
(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.
Cebu City Marathon 21k (30th) : 1:50:43 PSE Bull Run 10k - DNS Condura Skyway Marathon 42k (280th) - 4:56:03 Bataan Death March 102k Ultramarathon (82nd) - 17:35:53 National Geographic Earth Day Run 10k (17th) - 49:24 Asian Hospital RunNew 10k (25th) - 53:14 San Mig Coffee Bay Run 10k (10th) - 47:01 HP Fun Run 6k (1st) - 28:03 Chris Sports Epic Relay 250k (2nd) - 23:13:00 New Balance Nuvali Adventure Trail Run 15k (307th) - 3:04:23 35th Milo Marathon Eliminations 21k (45th) - 1:50:51 Powerade Duathlon Leg 2 (86th, 16th in age group) - 1:56:29 Takbo.ph Anniversary Runfest (21st, 7th in age group) - 46:32 Dean's Cup Invitational Triathlon - (56th, 9th in age group) - 1:54:15 7-Eleven Tour 500 - 3:27:28 Sonshine Cycling Festival Criterium - DNF, outlapped after 35 mins. Fort Running Festival 21k - 1:43:15 (57th individual, 1st team) Tour of Matabungkay Stage 1 100k - 3:52(188th) Tour of Matabungkay Stage 2 90k - 2:53 (163rd) Tour of Matabungkay Stage 3 TTT - 59:24 (29th) Adidas King of the Road 10k - 50:15 (75th) Powerade Standard Distance Duathlon - 2:41:54 (4th in age group) Malakoff Powerman Malaysia Long Distance Duathlon - 4:24:52 (60th) Nike Run Manila 5k - 22:34 (81st) Speedo NAGT UPLB Sprint Triathlon - 2:03:01 (38th overall, 8th in age group)
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?
Just when I thought race organizers had pretty much tapped the well of ideas when it came to your staple weekend road race, my sentiments were proven wrong once more. Enter the Rogin-E Last Man Running Race, a surefire test of will, guts, and endurance.
This is actually a late post, I missed the presser last week because I have coaching duties for Adidas ANR on Wednesdays. Sucks. The food must have been good. Anyway, this race is brought to you by Edward Kho, best known for his able stewardship of the Conquer Corregidor/ Corregidor International Half Marathon series. Leave it to Ed for coming up with some novel plan to excite you running denizens out there. Anyway, there's a 5k and 10k run on this, with fun medals.
Nifty. But the centerpiece event is the Last Man Running event obviously. Only one winner. P50,000. Fancy Trophy.
Nice Nice. How does it go exactly? Here's the official word (that I shamelessly copy pasted from their powerpoint) All participants of The Rogin -E Last Man Running Race must maintain the corresponding minimum pace at the following portions of the race period: 1st 2hrs - 6min/km, 2nd 2hrs - 7mins/km, 3rd 2hrs - 8mins/km, last hour - 9min/km. This will be monitored by red shirt wearing pacers who will be running alongside the participants. All participants who will be unable to maintain the minimum pace will be swept off the course by roving as well as strategically located (at every 50m along the course) race marshals. Aside from this, the pacers will also be given the same colored strings at each pass at the checkpoint. Any participant who will be wearing one less string compared to the pacers and are passed by the latter will also be swept off the course. Now that's challenging. If only I wasn't doing BDM 160 a week after that I'll give this a shot. P50,000 ain't something to sneeze over. So if you want to test your limits and see what exactly you're made of, here are the steps to registration for this. § From January 7 to February 20, 201 1, customers who purchase a Rogin-E bottle at ANY DRUGSTORE will be entitled to join the Rogin-E Last Man Running event on February 20, 2011 at McKinley Hill, Taguig City. § T Mercury Drug
Walk-in must purchase a Rogin -E bottle at registration booths during the event. Once receipt is presented, customers must fill out the registration form which covers a waiver of liability. § For those joining the endurance run, an additional copy of a race result page of a full marathon (42.195km) or a race longer than a 42.195km marathon (held within the last 6 months prior to the Rogin -E event) indicating his/her name as proof or a certification from a physician indicating fitness to participate in an athletic competition is required. Are you good enough to be The Last Man Standing? That's for you to know and for us to find out.
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
It has been a little over two weeks since 10 enterprising souls along with their gritty, dedicated support team went out with two vans and covered 250 kilometers covering Subic, Bataan and Zambales during the Chris Sports Epic Relay. By now, you have probably read all about it. Listened to the incredible stories. Heard out the grievances and lamentations. Reveled in the triumphs and cringed at the lows. As of this writing, the discussion thread that we had put together at Takbo.ph has generated 3,317 views, one of the most I had ever seen given that not too many people from the boards were directly part of it. A blow-by-blow feed on Facebook that I was painstakingly updating through my Blackberry even during the wee hours of the morning had produced an incredible 366 comments. Truly, it was a race for the ages, one that people would be surely talking about for months to come.
TPB rocks. So why such a late entry? Nope, I haven't been that lazy mind you. It's just that with the contentious nature of how the race unraveled, I didn't want to come up with an article that was reeking of input from my hopelessly skewed left portion of the brain. With so much charged energy emanating from the after-race vibe, I thought it best to let things simmer down a bit lest I come up with material with excessive amounts of vitriol.
We'll keep it cool. Er, will try at least.
Given the relative "epicness" of the race, and the fact that I wasn't there personally for all of the legs, I guess it really wouldn't do justice if I gave a blow-by-blow like my BDM feature. We're currently working on a compilation of everybody's experiences, and if no publisher picks it up, we'll most probably post it online mwahaha. Wait on it!
So instead, I'll try my best to give you a microcosm of the race proper(there were 30 legs in all, subdivided into 3 main sections) with my personal inputs on my specific leg.
Legs 1-10 Spirits were high for our 12nn gun start as we embarked on the great unknown. Little did we know that this was to be a race to remember. Given the pace we had declared pre-race, we were bundled in the final, "elite" start wave. Some teams had already started as early as 5am, supposedly to even things out. As nervous energy abound, the teams that we were looking out for were Team Ponstan (supposedly loaded with strong, veteran runners), and a Kenyan-powered Team Runnerspeak. Much to our surpise, there was another team inserted into our wave at the very last minute- Team Timex. Through casual conversation, it was not outwardly stated that this was a sponsored team loaded with triathletes and elite runners. Dropping a faux name (Team Roundsprint?) and giving off a weekend warrior vibe, I guess this was gamesmanship at its finest. Or rather, more like a portent of things to come.
In high spirits... .
And yet anxious for what lies ahead...
As we were awaiting the starting gun, the organizers/sponsors had even put together a "showbiz" style intro, with what seemed to be a hastily organized Ponstan "Pep Squad" comprised of made-up teens gyrating to pop tunes ala ASAP while were baking in 35 degree weather . At the starting line, leadoff guy Mark/Beep Beep got into the action and showed off his "Disco" moves in the background.
Beep could give these teens a run for their money As the starting gun finally sounded off, there was a palpable sense of nervous energy amongst the team. Extremely anxious, yet confident that our collective abilities will allow us to make a good account of ourselves. It was agreed upon collective during our pre-race prayer that we're not gunning to win at all costs. It's not the be-all end-all of our stint here. We're just going out to have a good time, soak in the experience, and anything we pick up along the way is gravy.
A prayer for guidance towards the right path
And so it begins. As I said earlier, I don't have the capabilities of doing an accurate blow-by-blow for the entire thing (it would take me forever to write it and you might get bored reading it), so I'll just recreate the first leg in detail while trying my best to faithfully recapture the rest of the legs, just to give your the overall vibe of the race at that given moment.
And so it begins... .(cue Olympic music)Land of the Lost and a budding loveteam Beep Beep was our leadoff guy, probably the strongest sprinter on the team. A former Palarong Pambansa standout, we were banking on a solid opening salvo from him to help set the tone for the rest of the race. From the time that the opening gun was fired, we could see that he was already neck and neck with Kenyan supergal Susan from Team Runnerspeak. So off they went, and we merrily went back to our vans.
As we were heading to the van exchange point at the Pawikan Center (serves as the halfway mark of all three main sections of the race) , we noticed one big problem. The guy from "Team Roundsprint" was actually ahead. And the rotund Ponstan team captain was in 2nd! How could that be? How could they outrun a Kenyan and a 39 minute 10k dude? It could only mean one thing... .
It simply meant that they were... .
Apparently, they were so fast that they missed the turn. Quite mind boggling that the lead pack didn't have any escort to guide them. That's just so crazy. Anyway, Beep ended up going all the way back to the start line, and i think he finished his 5k in 35 minutes. By the time the dust has settled we were in 2nd place, our psyche reeling from this unexpected setback.
The Furious Chase Once Mark/Indorock was up for his leg, it didn't take long for the speedy trackster to bridge the gap between us and the first placers. Cheers abound in our van. Now the hard part. Roy, Bryan and Brando had their work cut out for themselves as they not only had to keep pace to hold off the 3rd placers, in the race for 1st place they were matched up against Cyborg-like counterparts on some of the most difficult terrain in the race. Brando was near exhaustion, and asserted that his stretched out, ridiculously incline-filled course was the hardest 8k of his life.
Early hero Indorock attempts a furious comeback
The Brothers Rivera put up a gallant stand
Brando was so tired that he wanted to go home, selling "scramble" for bus fare Mark Hernz was up next. Was a short 4.4 k route, but his inclines would have put St. Martin to shame. In spite of the searing heat and technical difficulty of his leg, he gutted it,clocking in a solid effort in the process.
Mark gutting out the punishing inclines Leg 7. My turn. By the time the baton (er, slapstick) was handed over to me, a 2km deficit was staring me in the face. What fun. I was amped beyond belief. The long wait at the Leg 5 van exchange point had somehow sapped my energy, notwithstanding the fact that we were working from behind.
Nervous dude right here The amiable guy from the leading team (who even wore pink, I reckon in a sign of allegiance?) even gave me a high-five as he trotted out 10 minutes ahead of me. Once the exchange process was done, I was a man on a mission. Leg description was Recreational to Intermediate. Niiice. With adrenalin pumping, I rushed through the initial, extremely downhill stretch at about a 3:30 pace throwing caution to the wind. This lasted for all of 300 meters. Then I was stopped dead in my tracks. Suddenly, the downhills were gone, and was replaced with a slow, excruciating 6k uphill climb with lush foliage that made it very hard to breathe. Nothing Recreational about this. Cars were spewing smoke at you, and crabby doggies wanted to get a piece of you.
To those who are part of my Adidas Adination Ortigas team, the St. Paul- St. Martin Combo is about 1k not counting the downhill. So think doing 6k worth of that while trying desperately to hold 5:00 pace. I could have sworn I was hyperventilating. Pace was dropping by the nanosecond. By the time I reached the 6k mark, total pace had dropped all the way to 5:57 already. Eek.
Thankfully, what goes up, goes down. I'd like to think that all the uphill training I do had some sort of residual effect. At the risk of blowing my quads, I ran the final steep downhill stretch with everything I had at that point, crushing the asphalt at 3:45 - 3:50 pace. I was red-lining it. I HAD to make up for lost time. We HAD to get back first place.
Have... to get... . first place... .
All of a sudden, with about 1k to go, I saw the leading team's dude laboring heavily. I was ecstatic!! 1st PLACE WAS IN SIGHT!
He got tired In hindsight, I was thinking his heavyset core typical of gym habitues would give out with those extreme inclines at some point.And it did. Blazing at a pace that I could never ever sustain without the concept of team dynamic in play, I passed him! 1st place was ours!!! The rush was unbelievable and unforgettable. As I passed the support van, I was screaming "WE'RE BACK IN FIRST!!! WE'RE BACK IN FIRST!!!" I think I heard Abby screaming in the van as well . Lol.
Now, there was so much momentum gained that I even sprinted the incline near the 10k mark. 10k mark passes. Gulp. No exchange tent! I was burning out pretty fast. Then all of a sudden, my extremities were going numb. It was going upwards already. My hands then started to involuntarily shake. OMG. I was freaking out. What the heck was happening to me? Still nothing. I was panting like a rabid dog in heat. Where was the tent??? Finally, 750 meters later it was there. I rushed , signed in, handed the slaptstick over to a totally juiced Jai, and he was off! TPB in the lead!!!! The team met me with raucous cheers. I was completely exhausted, but super happy. Given that running is an individual sport, having to do team time trials was awesome. We left the leg in high spirits, knowing that I just handed over the lead to one of the strongest runners on our team.
Happy but wasted guyLegs 8 and 9 went by like a blur. Speedy Jai was still fresh from his 3rd place finish at the TBR Dream Marathon, so the guy was in awesome shape. He turned the slight lead I gave him into a significant advantage, and powerful Ronnel padded more to it as the race was starting to drag on into the night.
Dynamic Duo powers into the night.By the time Ka Totoy came up, it was pitch dark already. Being our undisputed anchor and the closest thing to an elite runner on the team, we gave "The Legend" our most difficult leg - the dreaded 6km climb up to Mount Samat. His performance was simply scintillating. He left our mouths wide agape while tackling Kennon Road-level inclines at an unthinkable 5:30 pace. If I had done the same route, I probably would have walked. Being the consummate pro that he is, there were times that he would even wave us off, telling us to wait ahead of him. Running a ridiculous incline in pitch black darkness takes some cajones, and he taught all of us right then and there a thing or two about guts.
From the eyes of a legend... .
The scene that unfolded after seemed like it was taken straight from a movie script. As fast as Ka Totoy was chipping away at the mountain, a rampaging juggernaut was hot on his heels. The strongest Kenyan runner of Team Runnerspeak was blasting away at our nearly 30 minute advantage on them, and before we knew it, they were in 2nd place. Just FYI, this was the Kenyan dude who won Rock and Run 10k, and he runs a 15 minute 5k just to put things into perspective.
In a moment of sheer drama, the Kenyan came within 100 meters of Ka Totoy as he hit the runner exchange point. One last dramatic grasp, and the lead was turned over to Beep Beep who started sprinting like a madman for the start of the next rotation, his lady love Susan in hot pursuit. Incredible effort on the Kenyan's part, and pretty much all of us had a greater appreciation for "The Legend's" incredible running moxie after that sublime effort.
Cooling down after a performance for the ages Whew. What an Epic! And guess what? We're only a third of the way!
But I'll have to stop there.
Because it was at this point that from a genuinely enjoyable race, everything seemed to connive against our success. Among others, I'd rather not discuss how I was stopped right smack in the middle of my 2nd leg ostensibly for "fast forward purposes" along with a totally moronic penalty by a high strung race director who wouldn't give the time of day to any opinion apart from his own.
I don't want to come out with unhappy memories out of this remarkable experience. I'd rather remember Beep and Susan's epic battle racing at 3:00/km pace down the insanely steep downhill of Mt. Samat in total darkness. Or how Brando valiantly tried to fend off "Cyborg" when he just popped out of the darkness. Or how Bryan's tremendous managerial skills established a semblance of order in our team.
One last comeback left in us... .
In a team full of competitive runners who usually duke it out over the weekends, I am proud of how the team came together to overcome adversity in making a concerted effort to go down on our shields with honor. I'll never forget screaming my lungs out when the team pounded out a last-ditch comeback effort, gutting out minute by painstaking minute culminating in Ronnel reclaiming the lead for TPB at leg 29. Truly, you can't make this stuff up. In spite of everything, we still had a chance to win it all at the very last leg. I have misty memories of how Ka Totoy, his body wracked in intense pain and battling 37-degree heat, ran with his heart on the pavement in overtaking the game PNP runner for 2nd place on the very last kilometer.
All for glory...
Because you see, this race meant much more to us than the figurative silver (thanks Mark Mulder) that we weren't even acknowledged for. It was more than the P360 finishers shirt, the P20 Pocari Sweat and P50 picture that awaited you at the line.
It went beyond winning or losing. It was about sticking to our guns when the going got beyond tough. It dealt with working within the rules even if they were seemingly be made to be broken. It was about getting back up and giving it your all after you've been kicked down incessantly to the curb.
Respect. Sportsmanship. Camaraderie. Ain't that what it's all about?
It's been a completely seminal experience for me. It's changed me in a lot of ways too.
To Beep, Mulder, Roy, Brando, Bry, Mark, Jai, Ronnel and Ka Totoy, it was my distinct honor to have raced with you guys.
To our wonderful support team Abby, Maan, Bea, and Doc Eire - thank you so much for sticking by us and sticking for us.
I am very proud of each and every one of you. I'm proud of TPB and what we stand for.
Because no matter what had happened in those fateful 23 hours...
The good news is, for the second straight year we've been nominated to the Philippine Blog Awards under the Best Sports Blog category. And the kicker is this year we finally made it as a finalist wohoo :) Not sure who were the other running sites nominated, but best of luck to you my friends. Thank you so much for your support and for continuing to enjoy my material. The bad news is that my site is acting up, of all times geez. Something went awry with the coding and it's not displaying the articles on the home page properly. Ugh. The worst possible thing would be for the fancy PBA judges to go through my site and see one miserly, zero comment article there along with a shaky layout. Smirk. I'm just hoping for the best. Awards night is on December 12 at the Carlos P. Romulo Auditorium at RCBC. I'll keep you guys updated as things progress.
Is this our year?
Congratulations to all those who finished QCIM, level uppers and PR pounders alike. I ran the course last year, had a horrific time with parking and traffic but was memorable nonetheless for being my first sub-2 hour 21k. It also had the best medal of last season IMHO. Although I had completely no issues against it, the common gripe last year was that there was a lack of hydration. Apparently, there's always an angry mob. This year, the word out on the grapevine is all about inaccurate results and distances aside from the deletion of a Facebook page. This has spurred a hotly contested debate on this Takbo.ph forum thread. Register if you can't read it haha. Pockets of vitriol (albeit unrequited) are being spewed towards the path of Runnex and long-time Takbo.ph denizen Rene Villarta, better known in the general blogosphere as the Jazzrunner. With emotions running high, some of these interjections are better off left unpublished. As someone who has similarly been on the receiving end of these snide online remarks, I can only empathize. It's fair to state one's opinion, it's a free country anyway. It's another to degenerate into name calling and group bashing, specially in a public forum. We're all mature individuals aren't we?
Being interviewed at QCIM 09'. Whew it's been a year already.
Stay.Away.From.The. Ham.
And Krispy Kreme. Krispy Kreme = Bad.
I am the only one having trouble getting up in the morning to run, with this pseudo-Baguio cold and all? Got to love that holiday lethargy. Run = Bad. Krispy Kreme and Holiday Ham = Good.
Another note on QCIM, I would like to personally congratulate my good friend Marga Baula for finishing her very first marathon. I've known her since her very first race, and she's come a long way. She is a shining example of that other, non-competitive but just as blood and guts side of our sport. While she may have come in at last place about 9 hours after the starting gun, her steely resolve and determination to finish in light of unspeakable odds is truly an inspiration to us all. Read all about her heartfelt account here.
Marga rocks.
Brooks' Green Silence is probably the coolest name I've ever seen for a running shoe. It name suggests that diabolical nuclear weapon that dictators keep in their back yard. Cool.
I just realized it's not er, green.
I received a late, red-blooded invite to the Nike Run Manila gig at Fort last Sunday. Kinda ironic because I handle Adidas ANR Ortigas, but what the heck seems like a fun gig. Oh the loyalty. Figured that since the plan was to do a brick workout anyway, might as well do it in a competitive race environment away from the crush at QCIM. The funny thing is, I've been away from the races for so long that poor lil' ol me doesn't even know how to use a D-tag. Boo hoo. Good thing I ran into race director extraordinaire Ian Alacar while trolling the grounds, thanks for helping this ignorant fool out buddy. Not too many people, was estimated at around 2,500 give or take. Field was stockpiled with fast varsity runners after strong tie-ups with schools. Rio (patiently doing his Obama-plastered smile while being snapped up for autographs and pictures ) did a patently good job with this . I struggled with a 22:34 time (good for only 81st out of 2,344 runners, testament to a strong field) about a minute and a half off my best time but the result was otherwise satisfactory. I had to rely on a furious challenge from some ultrafit varsity gals towards the end for that final push. Thanks gals, give one to the old guy. Was nice hanging with blogosphere heavyweights Jaymie/TBR and Vimz/Kulit Runner after, as well as with TPB bud Mark Mulder who finished 59th. Go to Vimz' site for the full results, I'm a lazy slob to post it on here. People were hyped over the Nike + doll that they gave away in lieu of a medal, I thought it was awesome. In related news, my Nike + doll is now the property of Ultramarathoner Abby :P
Till next week folks, congratulations to everybody on an awesome race weekend. :)
Sorry to disappoint guys and gals, we weren't able to bring home the bacon this year at the Philippine Blog Awards Night. Thanks for all the support you gave during the process, you all rock. The award ended up going to that fine boxing blog Filipino Boxing Journal, well-deserved. Me and Ultramarathoner Abby attended the ceremonies last Sunday at the RCBC Plaza , first time to attend such an event. We got there a little earlier than expected, and that equated into having the benefit of having the cocktail tables all to ourselves before the mad rush of bloggers came in. Food was supplied by Angel's Pizza and Pasta, and in spite of their crummy logo (which may be the reason we have subliminally never went there), the grub was quite good. New fan right here, and I just learned to never judge a restaurant by it's logo. Yum. Got to chat with tech and video bloggers on two separate occasions, and they both went on to win.Either I'm a lucky charm or malas lang sila sa akin. Host Gabe Mercado was benta with his dry wit and candor. The fact that he strode unto the stage in pajamas and bunny slippers didn't hurt either. It was a bit of a downer that they announced the sports category first (which sorta made the whole thing anticlimactic), and the cool AVP they used to introduce it had Jaymieon it ( she was the last running blogger to win it in 08'. Speedy Natz' now-defunct site made it last year.) I have now officially mastered my "losing Oscar nominee smile". Smirk. We'll get em next year... if ever they decide to nominate me again :P I am I bitter? No. Did I cry after I lost? Yes. Inside.
Better luck... . next decade?
Totally off-topic, I'm not digging that the new Seiko wallet radio spot pronounces "genuine" the correct way rather than the iconic "G-New-Wine" that made the whole thing famous. It just lost half its luster.Ulk.
I still get nightmares about those Adidas Techfit shorts that were shamelessly stolen from me during ANR registration. Think of all the happy times we could have had together.
Sob.
Good luck to all those doing the Corregidor International Half Marathon this weekend. Race Director Edward Kho is a good friend who made it worth everyone's while last year with a killer course. Those participating this year would no doubt get to partake of an even tougher experience. Tell us all about it.
To the bike people out there, Ultegra 6700 + Christmas = Broke.
Based off this perpetual question at the Takbo.ph boards, just wanted to know - are you a positive splitter or a negative splitter?
Big props to my student and co-captain of my marketing team at UA&P Nicole Miller for giving a wonderful presentation at the PBA's. I'm pretty sure she gained more than a fan or two there.
Abby and Nikki prepped up at the PBA's.
GBM BDM 160 Watch : 100% running. Just sent the confirmation of to Sir Jovie the other day. Here we go. No turning back now.
Had a great time at the season ending NAGT Sprint Triathlon at UP Los Banos, hosted by their free-spirited hometown team the Trantados. While I'll reserve the rest of the details for the future story, here's what you got to know - the swim on the 25m pool was hella rough (more like Wrestlemania), with me having a bruise on my wrist and some guy who was panicking on the 12ft deep end grabbing on to my legs for dear life. Was 74th of 85 people out of the water, ended up snagging 38th place overall, 8th in my age group. Considering I did 39 minutes for 750m during my first sprint, I'd take my 30:11 official 800m split as an improvement. That month and a half with Coach Jose Arcega's TI techniques seems to be slowly taking fruit. From terribly horrible, I'm now just terribly below average haha.
Habol ng Habol... .
Kudos to my teammates Noelle/Kikayrunner and Wilnar (yes, they actually made him a Facebook fan page) for their smashing performances during last Sunday's Milo National Finals. Noelle put in a spectacular 3:58, which would have qualified her last year even under the men's standards. Should we be calling it a Sub-Noelle now? Lol. Wilnar on the other hand dropped a somewhat routine (for him) 3:30 while no one was looking. I don't think it even excited him one bit lol. I'd also like to give props to TPB/Takbo.ph buddy Mccoy for pulling off a wonderful 1:41 21k as well. That's especially gratifying if only you guys knew that he has been battling debilitating injuries over the past two seasons. Some thought he'd never regain his speed again. But he's been tearing it up like a madman. He's the comeback runner of the year hands down IMHO. Someday, when I start running more than 20 kilometers a week again, I hope to one day do the same as these friends of mine :P
The Cobra 2011 Ironman 70.3 actually opened early bird registration already. Cheap thrills, $200 only. Come February it's already $250 a pop. Factor in airfare and lodging, you're actually paying a considerable sum to inflict a considerable amount of pain on yourself. All of a sudden those P950 races we constantly whine about looks like chump change.
Worth it?
Word through the grapevine is that there are concerns that the $200 early bird registration, exorbitant lodging fees (apparently, all CWC rooms have been booked already. Eight months ahead?? Wow.) and the specter of Extribe's world class organization ( this is their thing. I'm pretty sure KOTR dissenters would beg to disagree) being lost this year make for good reason to skip it altogether. Let's see how this holds true come August. Am I doing it? Hmmmmm... ..
That's it for this week's Gingerbreadtalk folks, enjoy the parties. Remember, lechon = slower you. Cheers!
