The poor thermostat in this house, it goes up, it goes down, and then it goes up again. I’m cold, he’s hot, and the Boo, well lets just say he hangs out where the heat is. It’s cold here, inside and out. We have a different idea of what a comfortable indoor temperature consists of… so I bundle up, and he sweats, that way both of us are happy to complain how hot/cold it is to the other. To stay warm I make sure to layer well, walk outside when the weather permits, drink lots of hot tea, and make tasty homemade soups. On a cold day, hot soup tastes really good.
Anything that warms you up when your toes are freezing is great. You can thank Dr.Oz for being the inspiration behind this quick, and easy soup that I made the other day. He mentioned how good it is to drink a glass of water, with lemon, grated ginger, and a dash of cayenne pepper in it. Supposed to do everything from make your wrinkles disappear, to get your heart racing, or something, I am not sure, it’s Dr. Oz what can I say. That got me to thinking of soup, I don’t know how… it just did. I put together some homemade chicken broth, you could use prepared one if you liked. A cooked chicken breast, leeks, carrots, potatoes, ginger, lemon, garlic, and cayenne. After sautéing the thinly sliced [wash them well] leeks, and half of a onion, and the garlic, in a little dash of butter, I added the carrots, and potatoes cut into small bite size chunks. This is called sweating the veggies, and brings out the flavours… just imagine how tasty my hot husband is when the thermostat creeps up past 18C. That’s 64 F barely above freezing for my US friends…
I heated up the broth, added almost tender veggies to it, squeezed in some lemon, grated some ginger, and added a careful dash of cayenne pepper for seasoning. It’s a delicate tasting soup full of flavour, layered with good for you heat. And it saves you money on your heating bill, because hot chick-a-leekie soup will warm you from the inside out. Give it a try, just don’t go too heavy on the cayenne pepper unless you are taste testing as you go along, that stuff packs a punch. Here’s the recipe, kind of, I’m not just a seat of your pants blogger, I’m a no recipe kind of girl too. I’m always making up recipes on the fly, by imagining how the ingredients would taste together.
Chick-a-leekie soup 3 cups chicken broth 1 chicken breast cooked, cut into strips, or cubes, or you could either sauté it before the veggies, or boil it in the broth. 1 leek, washed, thinly sliced 1 potato cut into bite size chunks 1 carrot cut into bite size chunks 1/2 cooking onion 1 inch of fresh ginger, finely grated 2 cloves of fresh garlic juice of half a fresh lemon, or less to taste dash or so of cayenne pepper to taste Sauté veggies, onion, leeks, and garlic in olive oil, or butter until almost tender. Add chicken breast cook one to two minutes to heat. Add to heated chicken broth, stir in grated ginger, lemon juice, and cayenne pepper. Simmer for a few minutes until veggies are tender, and flavours have meshed. Serve hot and prepare to feel toasty.
Somewhat of a late share, but getting it out there nevertheless. Runnex habitue and ANR UP Team Lead Sir Rene Villarta sent this over the grapevine. It's a really unique race in Laoag City to be held this February 26th, too bad I couldn't make it because of BDM 160. You get to race through the city's famed sand dunes and other landmarks. They had such a cool time when they went last year, pictures were nothing short of spectacular. Unknown to many, I was also offered an invitation to join on that very same trip but had to decline because of another race (not sure if it was for Conquer Corregidor) Anyway, they had such a blast and I'll be missing it again this year shucks. Maybe next year. But hey, if you ain't doing BDM (or supporting for it) go ahead and give it a shot. It will be well worth the trip.
Here's the official presser for you guys and gals.
After the huge success of “Run Ahead, Raising A Roof” Run held in Laoag City last December of 2009, Triathlete/Runner & Race organizer Faivo Bartolome brings another unique event up North, the “Taray Pamulinawen 2011, Laoag Sand Dunes Challenge” to be held on February 26, 2011 and will start and end at the Laoag City Hall. This race, hosted by the Laoag City government will be a first of a kind wherein runners will be running in the Sand Dunes of La Paz, a municipality of Laoag which is well-known for being the setting of well-known foreign films like Tom Cruise’ “Born On The Fourth Of July”, Mel Gibson’s “Mad Max” series and local films like Nora Aunor’s ”Himala” and the “Panday” series of the late Fernando Poe, Jr. Also known as “The Desert Of The North”, the Sand Dunes of La Paz offers a very challenging terrain not only with its varied uphill climbs but also for its arduous surface which is like threading on very soft and deep desert sands and would be twice as difficult to traverse whenever strong gales coming from the Pacific Ocean blows the sand away and is quite painful once the sand gets into your eyes.
Imagine running through this... The Taray Pamulinawen 2011 sand Dune Challenge is envisioned to become one of the North’s biggest and unique running events that will highlight the City of Laoag as a major tourist destination and an investment mecca. The route will cover some of the most scenic spots in Laoag like its centuries old churches, pristine beaches and some of the old landmarks of the city. The race will feature a 10-mile trail run (which will include the sand dunes), a 10k Road Run, 5k Road Run, 3k Family Run and a 750 meter Kids Dash. Registration fees are as follows: DURATION Jan. 3 – Jan. 31 Early Bird Registration Feb. 1 – Feb. 19 Regular Registration Feb. 20 - Feb. 23 Late Registration CATEGORY 10 mi. Trail Run Php 350.00 Php 400.00 Php 500.00 10km Php 150.00 Php 200.00 Php 250.00 5km Php 150.00 Php 200.00 Php 250.00 3km Family Run Php 150.00 each Php 200.00 each Php 250.00 each 750m Kids Dash Php 100.00 Php 125.00 Php 150.00 DURATION Jan. 3 – Jan. 31 Early Bird Registration Feb. 1 – Feb. 19 Regular Registration Feb. 20 – Feb. 23 Late Registration CATEGORY 10 mi. Trail Run Php 350.00 Php 400.00 Php 500.00 10km Php 150.00 Php 200.00 Php 250.00 5km Php 150.00 Php 200.00 Php 250.00 3km Family Run Php 150.00 each Php 200.00 each Php 250.00 each 750m Kids Dash Php 100.00 Php 125.00 Php 150.00 For other details and to download registration forms, please visit www.laoagcity.gov.ph or call/text 0917-5530050 (Faivo Bartolome).
Hi gang, been awhile. Hope you enjoyed the BDM series I put out for you, it was so crazy I thought it would never finish writing it. Believe it or not, I typed out the last part of that article at about 12 midnight at a Mcdonald's branch in a seedy part of Kuala Lumpur. The free WiFi was worth the "You want lady love you long time?" catcalls while attempting to grab a cab home. Eeek.
Anyway, I'm running this just because I felt so guilty for missing the presser, my car arrived late and so that's that . In a nutshell, wat's the spin on this? Out of town, flat course, sunset race. Nuff' said.
I wanna run this...
I'm hopeful that the ITBS injury I sustained during BDM would be completely healed by the time this race comes around. It sort of has sentimental value, as it was maiden race was my first ever 21k. You should have seen me. Check out this passage from an ancient blog entry of mine :
Get a nice Running Shoe! Believe it or not guys, after all these races I have been running on a 1998 retread cross trainer with the heel replaced by (gulp) Mr. Quickie. At the 14k point my toes and heels were burning, and who knows the crummy shoe may have been the reason for my injury. Mr Quickie! (shudder). Before kasi I'd just use it to run 2km outside my condo, no biggie. Never thought I'd be this hooked into running. Now, I need to buy! I feel I'm losing so much efficiency because of it.
With matching trucker cap, basketball shorts and weird shoes.How fast time flies. I think I finished my maiden half-mary at 2:28 that day, then I could barely walk after. Lol. Anyway, here are the details for the race. Seems pretty straightforward. And just in case you have never ever been to Enchanted or Tagaytay ( fun life you lead eh?), I put in a map of how to get there for good measure. Sunsets sound good. See you all there!
Greenfield City Sunset Run 2010 Sta. Rosa, Laguna April 24, 2010 500m / 3K / 5K / 10K / 21K
Registration Areas: Regular In-Store Registration: March 22 to April 11, 2010 – Planet Sports – Trinoma – New Balance – Glorietta and Shangri-la Mall – Athlete’s Foot – Alabang Town Center – R.O.X. – Bonifacio High Street, Bonifacio Global City, Taguig – Greenfield City Sunset Run Booth – Paseo, Sta. Rosa, Laguna
Late In-Store Registration: April 12 to April 17, 2010 – R.O.X. – Bonifacio High Street, Bonifacio Global City, Taguig – Greenfield City Sunset Run Booth – Paseo, Sta. Rosa, Laguna
It's sorta near EK and that cold place with Bulalo. Yum.
It’s dry up here with intensely parched earth, and the only water available in our area comes out of the water hose. So when I found a tiny frog under my broom on the front porch the other morning, I had to look twice to make sure that’s what it was. Indeed it was a frog that jumped out. Watch out for the spider webslittle one. Oh I forgot, you’ll eatthose babies first won’t you. It might be a Pacific Chorus Frog, a tiny little thing, no larger then my thumbnail. No time to grab the camera, I whisked it away to the back where the water feature lives, and hopefully it will be smart enough to stay nearby.
Then later while vacuuming the pollen from the sunflowers, [ doesn’t everyone vacuum the pollen off of their flower heads ] I accidentally sucked up a pen off of the kitchen table with our built in vacuum cleaner hose.
What followed was a Olympic styled mad dash to the other end of the fifty foot hose in order to pull the pen before it plugged up the lines. You should have seen me complete the long jump, the pole vault, and the discus throw all at once. I got there in time to rescue the pen before it went into the walls, maybe I should start my Olympic training now.
Remember my lament about our lack of zucchini during all those years as a coastal gardener? Well we now are overrun with the green baseball bats, and I couldn’t be happier. Out of 7 plants, there are only 3 survivors, which leads me to think, a spare, and a care, in other words plant at least 3 and expect only one to survive.
The two at the farm are doing well and producing the actual veggie, the one here is enthusiastically giving us little green sticks that keep rotting on the plant. Any suggestions for next year? The zucchini fritters tasted so delish, who cares where the zuckies come from. Practicing my long jump…
I’m on a pink kick, and I have to say can’t believe that the color is coming back into my life again… thought I was good and done with it for a long, long time… remember Miami Vice? Well I had a baby pink cotton blazer, hot stuff, yes that was me.
But after a few decades I am back to thinking pink is really fun. Yes pink, soft cotton candy floss pink, hot pink, and flaming hot pink, deep coral pink, I’m in love with them.
The soft pink paired with gauzy aqua shades of turquoise… oh how I love that combo. And as you can see, I’ve changed my blog up again… I kind of like doing that every now and then.
And for the summer flashy hot pink, and bright orange shades, along with a dash of magenta, and lime in the garden. In fact I just went out and bought orange marigolds, can you believe that? Hot pink geraniums, and brilliant orange marigolds. Can’t wait for those to bloom together. Never thought I would buy marigolds, I was a plant snob, but that cheery blurb of orange is warming my heart right up.
Give me any shade of blue, or turquoise, oh turquoise.sigh.
So what are your preferences? And do they change from season to season? Do they stay in the same color family, just deepen, and lighten as your mood changes, or are you consistent? Gotta know, tell me.
Editor's Note : This is well, um, about a month late. By the time you read this me and the Quest boys are already on our way to the Tour of Subic, our final multi-stage race of the season. But hey, just read it and hopefully enjoy it nonetheless, I probably spent more time writing this than I have been training. Due to recent changes in my work flexibility, expect a steady stream of backlog features on my recent races trickle in with the week. In chronological order. Cheers.
Quest 825 recently competed at the Pilipinas Cycling League's Immuvit Race Against Time Tour of Clark leg, held in, uh, Clark. It was a three-stage humdinger spread over two days and the team acquitted themselves decently given this wasn't our "base sport" if one would call it that. Here's an inside look at the pain, the agony and the glory behind this particular bike tour.
Prologue
Executive Cycling is one of those "hobbies" that I had gotten into as part of my multisport training. While triathletes in general are expected to go on long training rides to augment their preparations, not everyone has the cajones to join these multi-day, multi-stage races that would require one to ride and latch on, Tour de France-style, to a peloton ( or in the simplest way I could explain it, a big bunch of skinny guys riding their bikes at full speed separated by about hair's width from each other). Why even bother going on to this blatant invasion of personal space, where the slightest human error can cause everyone to crash like a deck of cards in a chain reaction ? We are all familiar with how drafting benefits cyclists through blocking the wind, that's why it is outlawed in most triathlons. But try hanging out with about forty other guys as a big pack, and your speed and efficiency jumps exponentially. It is a highly taxing discipline that requires both aerobic and anaerobic aptitude. Obviously, the inherent risk factor is part and parcel of the whole enterprise.
Alas, a strong bike split race target usually necessitates either superior genetics (dream on) or a solid cycling background ( you have a shot). Given that I am sure I wasn't blessed with the former , I have thus embarked on a journey of self-improvement on two wheels. This is my first full season competing on the executive cycling circuit, having debuted last year at Bike King's Tour of Matabungkay and participated in several other one-day races and tours from that point. Given that Quest actually started out as an executive cycling team, our participation in this race was a no-brainer.
On the day itself, after a late departure from Shell NLEX at around 5:30 am the determined gang scurried off to Clark for the tour's first stage, a 47.7 km Team Time Trial race.
Stage 1 - Team Time Trial. Bittersweet Symphony.
The Team Time Trial event or TTT is usually considered the glamor event of each tour leg. Given that cycling is more of a team-oriented sport vis-a-vis the rest of the multisport disciplines, the TTT is taken as a consensus of any given team's strength and caliber. Such is the importance of the event that rumor has it that some teams intentionally rest their members through earlier stages to preserve their legs for this relatively short event.
According to a passage I blatantly stole from Wikipedia, "the main principle behind a TTT is that a few riders can ride at the front of the formation slightly above their aerobic threshold while others draft behind these riders. The riders then rotate, allowing some riders to recover while drafting behind fresher teammates. A rider who is riding at the front is said to be taking a pull. Accelerations require harder efforts, and therefore it is desirable to have a smooth, steady pace. Different riders have different power outputs, lactate thresholds and aerodynamics. In order to equalize the efforts in order to not burn some riders off too early, the weaker riders take shorter pulls and stronger riders take longer pulls, all at the same speed to minimize the change in pace. A rider finishing a pull usually rotates to the very back of the formation, and the rider who was formerly behind this rider takes over. " Hmm, sounds complex. But the idea is, the team who could sustain the fastest pace without burning each others guts out is the winner.
Over here at the local scene, the TTT event is usually dominated by powerhouse club Fitness First. As for us, the team had steadily improved from last season. To give you some perspective, these things are usually an hour or less of lung-busting, intensely anaerobic, invective-filled fun. There's usually a minimum of five riders and a maximum of nine with the fifth rider to cross for the team coming in as the time to count. Thus, in theory the more people you have on a team the better the chance for your team members to conserve their energy. The thing with our team was, we had more than nine eligible riders, so we split into two teams. I was bundled with Team 2. On my side was team captain Deo, team manager and Ironman 70.3 World Championships finisher James, Army Col. Bong, veteran endurance athlete Ronald, TTT newbie Karlo and myself. All were capable time trialists in their own right, and ultimately this stage would all come down to teamwork and execution. But the paceline was beset with problems from the very beginning... .
A Shaky Start
Right off the bat, we were beset by unforeseen problems. With some teams a no-show for Stage 1, our release time was pushed forward by several minutes. This was exacerbated by the fact that we arrived late at the venue. To make a long story short, we barely made it to the release time and Ronald was caught up with something, forcing him to ride with Team 1 who had a later release. Thus we had one less comrade to stifle the wind and down to five riders, we were left with no room for error. We had been in a similar position at last season's Tour of Matabungkay, and the pressure- wracked, nausea-inducing experience was not exactly one to relish.
Completely out of sync for starters, we struggled to maintain the paceline. With no actual practice but having a general idea of what to do, the team eventually settled down with our speed hovering at about 35-36kph. So all's well and good. Problem was, Karlo was straining under the frenetic pace and it showed through his pained look specially through the inclines near the Fontana area. Now, we all knew that it didn't matter if the four of us kept up this pace - it was the fifth guy's time that would count. So we had to slow down. Frustratingly enough, we were passed by about three teams while going through this process. But this was a team effort, and no man could be left behind.
Man down... ...
At about the 40k mark our paceline was terribly falling behind our target already and was pretty much broken apart. With no breathing room to spare, each of us weren't taking way-too-long turns towing the line and it was starting to show with the suka pace that we were maintaining. Captain Deo and James had valiantly went back to provide the needed support for Karlo, but the effort had gassed them out. With but a few kilometers to spare, we were all running on fumes. The cycling gods finally decided to spare us a break and with about 500 meters to go the entire team managed to get intact in crossing the line with a 32.14kph ave, good for 23rd of 25 teams. Apparently, Team 1 was beset by their own troubles in finishing with a 35.29kph average for 18th place, seemingly below par for their capabilities. These results in no way did us justice at all, and essayed that even if our individual riders were quite capable on their own, there needed to be a strong degree of teamwork at play to maximize our results. Having less riders also exacerbated the situation. Drained and searching for answers, the Quest gang all set off for a quick lunch at SM Clark before stage 2 was due to commence in a few hours. Yep, you read it right. A few hours.
Wasted, rowdy, hungry bunch after TTT
Stage 2. Circuit Race. Lost in space.
The Tower Burger I had eaten from KFC had not gone down yet, but we had to go. Once again, this proclivity towards being late had us on a mad rush. The dour weather conditions were not helping at all, conjuring visions of crashes amid slick roads. Stage 2 was a 60km circuit race, which true its name counts several loops across the same course. In a stricter sense, some use the term criterium interchangeably to describe similar races, although those are usually shorter in nature and involves removal from the race once you get lapped by the leading pack. As a newbie cyclist last season, I haphazardly joined one of these crits which was stockpiled with old pros and looked more like a laughingstock more than anything else. The manongs watching were heckling me miron-style as I trudged along as the last cyclist to be removed from the course.. I'm guessing the aero helmet did nothing to help my case. Oops.
Di halatang newbie.
A year and a couple more thousand kilometers under my belt, I revisit the concept of the circuit race. At the very least, I hope to get the helmet part right. Anyway, going back to the race. Massaging my still sore thighs, the peloton set off amidst a moderate climb in Fontana that was the highlight of the course. The climb was fine, but having to do it several times over at full speed zaps out your legs one way or another. The first loop was designated as a friendship lap, presumably to serve as a weird form of warmup. Once that was over and done with, the cyclists went on a mad dash that would require every bit of anaerobic juice (at least for lackeys like me) on you to keep up. So I was able to latch on to the main pack, albeit the tail end of it. Predictably enough, my suspect conditioning gave way and I splintered with a group of about five riders, by my estimation about ten seconds behind the main packing. And here's where the fun started. Just as I was gaining some semblance of a rhythm, the guy towing us along took a wrong turn, bringing us all along with him. In the fifteen seconds it took us to get back on the course, the lead pack was out of sight. Great. I was slightly perturbed by what happened and I was left with one other guy. So while rushing to get back in it, at an intersection the marshal was signaling to turn right. Or at least I thought so. Turns out his hand gesture was connoting a "stop" to the other cars (geez how could we mix that up. But yeah we did) and I was off-course again. This was a longer distraction, about 30 seconds. By the time the entire thing was sorted out, I was all alone on the course, deflated and demoralized at such an unseemly turn of events.
I thought of abandoning the race altogether, but then again I'm not a big fan of DNF's. Sot suffice to say, it was like riding an ITT over the final couple of laps, a lonely, solitary route that most would not even bother completing. I even saw a crash along the route, which as I would learn later on involved national triathlete Kim Mangrobang, who was due to compete at the Elite Under-23 ITU Asian Championships in two weeks. She would later share that one of those hyperaggressive junior riders cut her, resulting in a crash on those slick roads. Sort of reminds me that in order to be successful in cycling, you just have to be plain fearless in taking risks. I guess it's still something I have to learn over time.
Loner...
I eventually crossed the line in what seemed like forever, much to the bewilderment of my teammates who figured I'm slow, but not THAT slow. Adding to my chagrin, when the results were released I was mistakenly placed in Excutive A, registering as the last rider to arrive in the division of the strongest executive riders. Oh the horror. Once everyone was accounted for, we all headed back to our hotel to freshen up and reflect on the day that was.
The Lighter Side
After a hearty buffet dinner prepared by the PCL people, the team retired to our comfortable villa at Fontana. We later indulged in the company of veteran elite triathlete Rayzon Galdonez and top executive cyclist Makoy Almanzor. You often see these guys in the heat of athletic competition, and it was refreshing to hear them dispensing race advice in equal doses with classic wisecracks. Here are some of my personal favorites :
Rayzon : Yung nakasabay ko sa run na elite na foreigner na babae nung Camsur, tinanong ako, "Are you Okay?" Ang sagot ko, "No, I'm not Okay. I'm Rayzon. Rayzon Galdonez pleased to meet you what's your name?"
Makoy : Panalo talaga ang Red Horse. Pag sa Red Horse, puro Tama, walang Mali!
With hearty laughter resonating from our living room, I quietly retired to my comfy bed, knowing that we would be in for the long haul for the Stage 3 road race the following morning, the longest leg in the tour.
Yum.
Stage 3. Road Race. A Valiant Effort.
An early breakfast at the nearby Mcdo served as preliminary fuel for the 118 km race that would pretty much replicate the TTT route, only it adds a relatively tough stretch on the outskirts of town to make for several 23k loops. We even ran into my Team Powerpuff Boys buddy and ultramarathon star Junrox Roque ( who's starting to become a force to be reckoned with as well in the short-course triathlon scene) hanging with his executive club Aboitiz Power, a team loaded with strong, veteran riders. For one, at least we all have knack for sausage Mcmuffins early in the morning. Having had our fill amidst the friendly banter, we make our way back to the hotel to get geared up.
We're Late Again
As you may have noticed throughout this feature, this is starting to become somewhat of a recurring theme. For some inexplicable reason, even with considerable lead time, we somehow end up rushing towards the starting grid, making it with less than five minutes to spare. As the peloton was finally released for the conventional "friendship" lap, my thoughts were drifting towards the specter of somehow churning in a creditable performance with my thighs already beaten down from the previous two stages. Word was going around pre-race that last year the peloton took it "easy" during the first few laps because of the relative toughness of the course. With this in mind, I was thinking perhaps I had an outside shot at keeping up this time around.
The friendship lap was relatively brisk, and it comforted me that I was pretty much within the same line as the main pack. So far so good, the whole gang was in sight and I was getting a good feeling about this. The rolling course was not easy though, and I pondered on how I could keep up with the frenzied peloton once they released us. The rain had gone away and the sun was slowly starting to beat upon us. Long ways to go for this.
As my luck would have it, the peloton was released just before the Fontana incline. Great. The funny thing with cycling is that the barometer for success and failure is measured in seconds , seemingly indiscernible nuances spelling the difference between victory and defeat. About a second or two before the peloton was released, my mind inexplicably wandered to some mundane subconscious trapping. And before I knew it, poof. Everyone had at least a five second lead (a lot) on me, and by the time I managed to get my bearings I was speeding along at 45 kph in a vain attempt to catch up. I passed by our team captain Deo and screamed "Habol tayo Kap!!" knowing very well that the slightest let up and we kiss this race goodbye. I raced uphill with cajones-shrinking gusto, and before I knew it I was converging with a fairly-sized group who dropped from the lead group. The pace was frenetic, right around 35-36kph during the early juncture and my lungs seemed to be bursting from the sudden rush. As we stretched out into the highway, a familiar uniform pulled up next to me, and I was overjoyed that Kap had mustered enough to make it into the safety of the chase pack. Save for the TTT, I have been working mostly as a loner for the entirety of the tour so this was certainly a welcome development.
Hanging On
The middle laps saw the chase pack dwindle from a high of as many as twenty to roughly about eight or nine guys. The tough course was unforgiving and the heat and humidity were starting to bear down on us. On the flats we'd hit it in the 45's, then would be focused on the low 30's in a bid to conserve. Slowly but surely, we were getting there and actually putting in a creditable performance by our modest standards. As we were lurching towards the halfway mark , we were quite surprised to see Col. Bong struggling alone against the crosswinds. A strong, consistent rider, we were not accustomed to seeing him get dropped by the peloton . He hung around with us until the feed zone, at which point we just lost track of him. We would later find out that he dropped out of the race after feeling the aftereffects of flu-like symptoms from the week prior. With our reserves slowly being depleted and the sun beating down heavily, it was an interesting proposition to just drop out as well and call it a day. But maybe we had enough to still hack it out... .
Going Down Swinging
As we approached the final lap, our original group had pretty much dropped like flies one by one, and with roughly 20k to go it was just me, Kap and two other dudes. We would take turns on the trangko in a bid to conserve energy, but from this point out it was pretty much all guts and glory. Me and Kap would alternately fade out from the group, then claw back with every ounce left knowing that getting dropped at this point could pretty much mean a knockout blow to one's aspirations of a good finish.
With about 10 kilometers to go entering the homestretch, I felt like I was bonking big time. The other dude fell behind and Kap was still going strong. I told myself, I fought so hard to be in this thing all morning, why give it up now? I figured, might as well go down swinging. As your body bottoms out its reserves and gradually starts to shut down, that's where one's mental fortitude is taxed to its utmost. So with as much effort as one could muster, my battered body was somehow able to throw down 37kph for about a 2 kilometer stretch to catch up with Kap, who I gather didn't even noticed that I was gone. Crossing the line together in 4:06 with the last of the Mohicans was as gratifying a finish I ever had in a cycling event. Checking my race data, the finish time was a bit misleading because of all the long stops we took at the feed zone, and the actual speed we maintained was practically 30kph over a distance that mirrors a Manila-Tagaytay roundtrip. None too shabby I guess for someone with marginal, intermittent training at best. Yipee.
Made it.
Epilogue
Overall, the team had a very creditable finish. Erick stuck with the Executive A main pack in all the road stages, which is highly indicative that he is racing at an extremely high level right now. Cycling main man Julius showed his worthiness to be promoted to the "A" level by nabbing 2nd runner-up podium honors in the 35-39 division of Executive B. The rest of the team all showed traces of significant improvement from the last time we raced here, so we all went home happy. A somewhat unfortunate accident during the last stage marred our good vibes though as Wilnar crashed in a freak accident with only a lap to go, bringing down three riders with him from within the peloton. He suffered a nasty gash on his forehead, but in typical manner he played it down even if he looked like one of them WWE wrestlers who open wounds on their forehead with their hidden razors.
That notwithstanding, it was a creditable effort with tons of room for improvement. As for me, it's back to the drawing board on how to get back into top form. Maybe I'll grab a Red Horse while I'm at it. Puro kasi tama diba, walang mali. :P
My world on a Wednesday a gathering of scattered fragments, and moments bundled together into a small fraction of the day when life doesn't intrude. It's the microwaves turn to hum. Keeping time. With the drips from the roof. Handle spinning around like a carousal, the frothy milk threatens to bubble over the glass container. Homemade yogurt for breakfast tomorrow.
Hot pan, butter scented sizzle crowds the kitchen. Cat pushes past my leg, hinting, hopeful, long ago fed, big eyed stare, he wins. And accepts his treat with a smirk of feline triumph. Declines a cuddle, heads for the heat. Fickle creature. The sound of the Eagle's keening comes through the open door. Kitty plays the role of indoor cat for now, fly by dinners should be feathered, not fur. Through every window a scene of Winter's latest gift of snow lays. Like a discarded white jacket, one size too small. Bulging out over the landscape where it is torn. Leaving us longing for a fresh coat to cover up the disarray. January is a messy month. Camera clicks. I love that sound. It makes my heart sing. Dishes clink, light shines, fades, moves throughout the rooms. Candy hearts scattered on a painted board tempt. Tea brewed, poured, photographed, and drank in antique cups.
Days stretch, drips fall, light lengthens. For now it's enough to wait for the light. Dash outside to catch the sun. Walk the country roads, and catch my breath as the sun sinks far away. Coating the f olds of the mountains and their fog shrouded valleys in a shimmering light. A stunning patchwork quilt that tucks them in for the night.
Fields white with snow, shiver against the dark silhouettes as the light drops. Stoic and bare, the trees stand guard feet frozen into the soil, tips golden with delight from the long limbs of the sun. My heart sings Feet crunch the gravel. Headed for home.
Contains: 100% Canadian content. All images and text original to Jane Vandervoort
As I write this the late afternoon sun is pinging off of the edges of the glass in the window of my house. Circling the room, like a bird in flight let loose from it’s cage. Dancing off of the walls, scattering gems and prisms of glittering colors that cling to the ceiling and slide down the walls.
Out past the window the swaying sun beams filter through branches of towering fir trees. Laying a scorching bright light that is bent off of ice patches without melting anything. Soon the sun will be sinking fast into the cold, snow covered dark blue mountains. I want to wave, lift my hand, and wish it a good trip, but something always holds me back. My brain forms words that my mouth won’t say. Please stay for a little while, each day you leave earlier. You’re a good friend who’s short visits are never long enough at this time of year. One who is walked to the door with that air of regret wafting in the cold air behind them because they couldn’t extend their stay. Not like some. Those who overstay their welcome, such as Winter. It’s return visit booked a few weeks from now, like a unwanted guest, we can’t truthfully say that we would like Winter to stay as long as it intends. Oh sure, we will primp the guest room, after all courtesy demands that we at least maintain a certain level of welcoming smiles, and happy greetings. All for a guest who keeps the hot water too cold, and leaves a ring of frost around the windows in the morning. It’s not that we don’t like this season, it’s just that Winter overstays, won’t leave, despite all of our gentle reminders in February, and rather pointed comments in March. Can’t Winter take a hint?
We are not running a Bed and Breakfast for the Seasons, move on, hope that you have enjoyed your stay. Hope you enjoyed your stay, come again… just leave your next visit for a while. Sun going down signifies the time when the ground feeding quail, and cooing doves move to the feeders. A frantic dash from front yard to back, pecking and darting swiftly from overloaded dish to dish. It’s a feast legendary among birds. a small price to pay for the enjoyment we get out of watching them. Even Phil the flirting pheasant graces us with his occasional presence, holding court without his hens, royally coloured glamorous feathers gleaming in the setting sun. Suet cakes high in wire cages, rough bark catering to those with clinging claws. Fence posts below to act like inanimate air traffic controllers, a place to land, hang around, to wait in a holding pattern of whirling feathers until it’s your turn. A winged hierarchy disobeyed only when daring flying feathers and much squawking. No one hangs around here after dusk, too many predators, it’s eat and run, then hide, hope to survive both the cold, and the hunters. We indiscriminately feed all and sundry, be they feathered, or fur covered. Bright orange squat pumpkins waiting in the garage for the signs of visiting deer who's first visit is the composter for a appetizer, before dining delicately on bird seed in the front.
I have tarried longer then I thought while writing this, the house cooling down quickly, a parting gift from the sun. I would much prefer wine, chocolates, or even some seasoned sea salt. The cat snores most indelicately under a warm blanket, completely comfortable with my absence, no warm body needed after the addition of a hot water bottle. Spoiled, you might say? Not him, our chaser of feline dreams. No fan of our winters up here, wishing only for the front door to be opened, and then quickly shut when he realizes that the long memories of warm summer days spent lapping up heat are just that. Once a outdoor loving, snow tolerant, fur bundled kitty, he is now a happily domesticated lap cat, as long as there is somewhere warm to sleep, and a full dish of food. A small price to pay for warmth, and constantly attentive doormen. Today we celebrate our 3 year anniversary of arriving in the Okanagan to live out our Muddy Boot Dreams. One large moving van, one small SUV, packed so tightly there wasn’t even room for a sneeze, lots of sad goodbyes, and one sleeping on my lap all the way up here kitty. A cold weather welcome into the warm hearts of our family, and a snowfall the next morning to welcome us home. It’s something we had dreamed of for such a long time, what a wonderful feeling to be on this side of the waiting, to be where we have always felt was “home.” This is simply the most beautiful place to live, and I am grateful that we are able to be here with family, and friends, furry and fleshed. A dream come true. Thanks so much for coming along for the journey, and as it continues…
Editor's Note : This is coming in about two weeks late, but what the heck I got busy. Again. Anyway, enjoy the fruits of my forsaken lunch break.
For most newbies to the sport, the annual exodus to Camarines Sur to compete in the only Ironman-branded triathlon competition in the country is much akin to a rite of passage. Get the shirt, get the photo-op, get the fancy sticker on your bike. Bask in the glory of "ayan na si Ironman" (and all the lame Tony Stark jokes) at the office water cooler. Hang out at the neighborhood pool and revel in the " Pare musta Camsur mo?" conversation with the batak dude on the next lane. Hey, make it worth your $250 right?
Seriously though, it's still the biggest multisport event in the country. And with its third incarnation in the bag, it just became bigger with more than 1,000 athletes gathered in the water that morning last August 14th. Why bother to tri? People have different reasons. Some join in for the heck of it. Some are in there to just see if they could stack up, a personal test of will if you may call it that. Some have enough chutzpah to make the race their first triathlon, which ends in either a personal Everest conquered or a painful crash back to reality (or the pavement. And hopefully not the bottom of the lake). So we have our reasons, that's a given. As for myself, if you've been following my site from the very beginning you should know I'm a gamer when it comes to these things. A recent accounting check showed that I have been spending a ridiculous amount on races, gear, logistics, etc. I don't know about you, but I can't swallow that amount and leisurely trot around races with the pure intent of merely surviving the cutoff. I have to take my training seriously and make this count, lest the motivation for getting a fancy, technologically advanced six-figure bike is relegated for pure japorms purposes alone.
Thing is, what if there's well, nothing to take seriously? As I mentioned in my previous article, the high-wire act that most age-group triathletes take in balancing these significant training hours with the other aspects of "normal" life is probably more of a challenge than the race itself. If you're a regular 9-5 corporate warrior who actually relishes having more than four hours of sleep or possesses some semblance of a social life, this is incredibly tough to execute. Something has to give at one time or another. With the specter of a new job on the horizon just as short-course season was about to end, I opted to focus on the more mundane trappings of each pencil-pushing suit out there. And yet, the fight never really left me. An attempt to squeeze as much juice as I could out of my limited training hours resulted in a rash of nabigla injuries and ego-deflating training sessions as I vainly tried to keep up with my superbly conditioned Quest 825 teammates. With my performance slipping with each race, the goal of competing in the Timex 226 full Ironman distance triathlon this December seemed but a foolhardy afterthought. Stringent qualifying times notwithstanding (at least with my current fitness level), my "secret" endurance sport dream of completing the Bataan Death March 160k Ultramarathon, Ironman Camsur 70.3 and Timex 226 all in one season couldn't have been any farther from reality. Pop that bubble and go back to signing memos you fool.
Wishful thinking never hurt
But then with a stroke of luck and a dash of inspiration, the fates smiled on us once more at the Tri United long course triathlon held in Matabungkay. Even as a crippling back injury rendered me a virtual crash-test dummy during the run leg, the splits were just good enough to have me qualify by the skin of my teeth. Thirty- four freaking seconds to spare before the 4:45 cut-off, considered the tougher of the two qualifying standards given ( the other being a 6:45 for the Camsur 70.3)
A miracle can happen... .
That, in a nutshell, gives you the context of my race in Camsur. With the pressure of qualifying out of the equation, I was in a more relaxed state and was even feeling good about the prospects of a good finish. But before we even go there, let's try getting therefirst, shall we? Which, as I came to realize, wasn't exactly a walk in the park.The Long,Long Winding Road
Eight hours.440 kms. I don't think I have ever driven that far. For the record, I don't think most of us have either. With Ultramarathoner - turned -design maven Abby keeping me comfy company for the duration of the ride, the endless route seemed liked a prelude to the mental tenacity necessitated for the race. Passing through scenic yet creepy trails such as the famous Bituka ng Manok zigzag road in Quezon kept me on my toes, given the seeming predilection of cars to run into accidents there.
It's tough.
Ironically, it was actually heaping doses of Cobra that kept me going. Hmm, maybe it does make sense for them to sponsor the race. But really, try tasting the stuff. It's probably the next best thing to shabu in keeping you awake. Along the way, we were so hungry (with such few stops in between) that we swore that we ate the best siopao ever at a stall at the Quezon-Camsur boundary. Yum.
This is the place, a long way from Ayala eh? After what seemed like an eternity we finally got to our hotel in Naga City, which would serve as our home for the next couple of days. Roughly 10kms away from CWC, it's a pretty smart, cost-efficient move in lieu of the pricey (and pretty much sold out) rooms at the complex. We got first-hand taste of some terrific local eats - Biggs's Diner for a late casual lunch and Chef's Doy's for a fancy (yet shockingly cheap) dinner.
Yummy casual dining at Jollibee prices
The team with Chef Doy himself Bike Check In
Once the dust had settled, we had to check in our bikes at what would be the transition site. This is somewhat of an unfamiliar experience to the uninitiated, with the prospect of leaving your bike overnight a slightly perturbing thought. Season partner Bikezilla was kind enough to send their top wrench guy/fun friend Dave along with the team to ensure that our bikes were in tiptop shape before the check in. After negotiating a line that resembled your neighborhood lotto pila when the jackpot balloons to P100 million, I was finally off.
The ol' battle chariot locked and loaded
Let's Shock The World
Amidst the bedlam that was happening in the days that preceded the race, I found myself enraptured within an almost eerie calm that belied the pressure generated by an eventof this magnitude. It's already a given that I'm primed for a marginal finish on this race. But inexplicably enough, I was feeling strangely good about my chances. I really, honestly thought that I would shock the world. Spot-on premonition or shameless wishful thinking? It would be fitting to see how it would all unravel come race day. But then came the signs. Signs that broke an otherwise tranquil calm... ..
Sign #1
I guess it would be fair to mention that I slept for only two hours before driving to Camsur because I ransacked my entire apartment looking for my trishorts. Of all the god darn days that I could lose it. Possible reasons:
1.The dog ate it 2.The dog hid it in his super secret hiding place for future chewing purposes3.The dog ate it.
I blame the dog completely. He must have eaten it. There's no other way. I'm positive.
I didn't do it
Sign #2
After the team did a Thursday photo-op at Lago del Rey with The Batis Project CEO Ricky Ocampo(We're carrying the highly regarded hotel and balneotherapy resort as our title sponsor for the season), my K-Ona's were soaked and got inundated with sand and rocks. Abby took due prudence in drying it out at the aircon hatch of our hotel as there was no other way of going about it. Much to our horror, the following morning the right insole was gone. It could have gone anywhere, but it just vanished into thin air. You're probably thinking "it's just a freaking insole" but good luck on finding any triathlete who would willingly run without it. Luckily, our team captain Deo (the brains behind the old school Tri-Pilipinas board) had an extra K-Ona with the same size as mine, so I pretty much ran the race on a borrowed insole. Lucky break, but dyahe.
Signs. Premonitions. Tri-short eating dogs. Let's get this over with, shall we?
D-Day - Lago Del Rey, about 5 minutes into the swim
Dammit. I got punched. Or whacked by those damn breastrokers. Any other way, I think I'm starting to panic nowwith my goggles practically off.It's the first time I've ever been hit in a race, tough it had to happen here. Heard lots of stories, at least now I have one of my own. But it's a story I'd rather not tell. Oh great I got hit again. Ugh, while I'm trying to fix it I'm incessantly getting run over. It's like I'm in Omaha Beach at the Battle of Normandy, and I'm one of the first casualties.
Chaos is an understatementI eventually catch a second wind and did good time at the small lake, only to get stopped dead in my tracks after swimming right into someone kicking furiously. You know how cartoon characters see stars when they're punched? Never knew that was a case of art imitating life right there, it really freaking happens. Lucky me didn't get the memo about the water being so murky that you couldn't see your hands doing the strokes. After what seemed like an eternity of playing Takeshi's Castle at the small lake, I'm out of the water in 51, nearly 52 minutes. Missed my time target by two minutes, but still ahead of the "worst case" goals I had made for myself. So far.
Somewhere in Camarines Sur, about 35km into the bike
Go Go Ironman! Go Go Ironman! The playful chants of the Bicolano children reverberate in my ear as I speed past this drenched countryside.Why do I get this weird feeling that their teacher would flunk them if they didn't show up for this?Lol. Everyone was prepping for the heat, praying for cool weather - and we get a deluge instead. Approaching a sharp curve, I need to overtake this lady in front of my lest I be called for drafting. It's nothing special, routine pass. Holy crap my wheels lock, the angle is too slick. As I'm about two seconds from losing control and crashing, a collective gasp could be heard from the crowd... ..
But thankfully, I didn't. The sporting gods finally let me catch a break. I was able to regain control at the last minute, a look of both relief and partial consternation on my face if you could actually see it through the downpour. So I'm liking my chances now. I'm averaging about 31-32 kph, with the intention of pouring it on during the homeward trip. However, after doing their good deed of the day with me, the sporting gods decided to call it quits. At which precise moment I hit a very hard bump on the road, misaligning my saddle several degrees. This forced me to hold an awkward, yoga-like position that put a lot of strain on my balky back. It didn't take long for the pain to come. As much i try not to be a girly man about it, I guess only those who have had lower back injuries and attempted to race on a bike could relate. And so my personal Calvary began.
My pace slowed to a ridiculous crawl. Teammates, friends, strangers were passing my demoralized shell left and right. It was Matabungkay all over again, only this time I had to work with the pain for about 50 more kilometers. I dismounted about 5 or 6 times to stretch, with bystanders chiding me "Koya okay kay lang ba? Gusto mo ng sopdrink?" I forced a smile. With about 20 kilometers to go, I wasn't quite sure if I could even make it to the run portion. Maitawid na lang. Each kilometer took what seemed like an eternity to complete. As I entered T2, the full rack of bikes confirmed the sobering realization that I pretty much threw away my race right there. A fat,juicy, 3:15 split was staring me in the face. With my "pet" discipline up ahead, I guess this is make or break for me. Question is, how much did I have left in the tank?
Playing through the pain
Just before the rice cooker, 10km into the run
I'm doing this. I'm actually doing this. Spurred on by an incredible rush of adrenaline, I was calling on every single ounce of fight left in me to pull this off. I lost 25 minutes on the bike, but I figured if I could gain that back on the run then all would be well with the world. I ran a sub-25 5k , and just cleared a 58 minute 10k. I have a real shot at redemption here, and why not with the wonderful weather relegating the feared rice cooker into mushy lugaw. I was passing people left and right, each tuhog serving as a boon to my broken body and exhausted spirit. Alas, it just wasn't meant to be. Too much to ask I guess. The back tightened up real bad somewhere around 13k, and it was both a mental and physical struggle from that point. I never stopped fighting though. The final stretch saw me trudge painfully through a 7:00 pace performance, but I still kept on passing people. Cramps caught up with me sometime around 20k, may pahabol pa matatapos na nga lang. As I finally crossed the line, the look on Abby's face was one of both joy and relief. Apparently, she was worried sick wondering what had happened to me. But hey, I made it! My self-inflicted journey of pain and suffering was over in six hours and 37 minutes, and would you look at that I'm still in one piece.
Never say never, it's always possible.
Epilogue
It's pretty obvious that this wasn't my best race, not by a long shot. But I take solace in the fact that I overtook 107 people on the run leg, even with what I consider a substandard run split. There were a lot of positives to be taken from the race, I was happy with how I fought back when it was so easy to quit already. Overall, it was quite the experience. I'd willingly do it again next year and come back strong, wherever it may be.
During the spring anyone can take a good photo. There are unlimited options for subjects. Point your camera, press the button, it’s a masterpiece. Hang it on the wall, post it on your blog. Flowers grow with abandon, springing up from brown ground in never ending waves. Each morning brings a new carpet of blossoms, as if pulled from a magicians hat like a bunny. Sparkle, light, fresh, green, new.
Summer’s golden days add a radiant glow to everything, burnished dusty textures that could not be seen before, bleached, faded denim, rusty metal, metallic glint of bugs eyes, powdery wings of butterflies. Water sparkles and flows, trees glisten with a coating of light rain, people bathed in sunlight pause at your request, laughter, and joy floats down streams. Autumn shines in it’s own way, l ight changing to create dramatic backgrounds, storms work part time as light shows. Clouds appear to be floating pearly puffs, nostalgia fills the air, as trees change color. The novelty of bare branches, stark wet black stems contrasting the colourful puddles below. Christmas overflows with lights, ornaments, boughs and presents, children’s faces lit up with wonder.
It’s the winter months afterwards that challenge your creativity. Pushing you out the door unwillingly wrapped in scarves, and mitts so dense you wonder if you will be able to bend. Worried you won’t feel the camera slip from your frozen grasp before it’s too late, you hang on tighter, less willing to let go. It requires effort to move, to shift your body out of the vehicle you have folded yourself into. Icy breath fogs up the viewfinder, batteries fade, enthusiasm wanes. Winter is when you earn your shots, every single one of them. Learning to look at a pile of white snow covered fields and see more then just cold feet. To glimpse under the flowing skirt of a icicle looking for a reflection. Skies grey, sprinkling white dandruff you gaze longingly for promised sun, disappointed too many times, a blind date that never shows. Short days, long nights, cold all the time, hot chocolate, and frozen toes.
If you spend the time, learn to look, winter will reward you with shots of beauty. Sometimes you need to look closer, stand further away, dream bigger, think harder, but it is possible to see something more then white, brown, and dead sticks. White looks good on everyone, soft and cuddling mounds, bare branches silhouette birds of prey flocked in trees, not normally seen during months of green leaves. The garden grows bumps, and humps, skeletons in the gloom.
Winter gives up it’s tale of midnight visitors easily, tracks of paw prints, those tiny bird footsteps leave messages like Morse code. Bring more seed, bring fresh water, dot, dot, dash, dot. Take that shot, you’ve earned it, winter has made you work for it, but it’s worth the effort.
Flown the coop: We’ve flown the coop, well actually we did fly the coop, and now we are back. And yes I did see some chickens, but I don’t have any photos. I also saw lots of cows, some eagles. And a poor deer that didn’t survive it’s quick dash across the road. It was a fast trip up to the Okanagan to visit with family, and check out the luscious asparagus from my sister’s farm, her blog is here, Okanagan Asparagus Farm. But it was too cold for those tender, and delicious little spears to peek up from the soil yet. We never seem to get it right, always too early, or too late… A time lapse: Coming back down from the high mountain pass, through to the Chilliwack valley, was like seeing a very fast time lapse of spring happening right before your eyes. During the time that it took to travel from the highest point of the Coquihalla Hwy to White Rock, we saw the branches changing subtly. From bare black stems silhouetted against the blue sky, to fresh green shoots hanging like earrings from trees, and dense green undergrowth that is missing in the Okanagan. It was both alarming, and beautiful at the same time. Beautiful, because spring is definitely coming, although it’s late, and alarming because I was worried that I would miss it in my garden. Like any gardener, I wait all year for those moments, when the ferns unfurl, and the hosta’s stretch out their leaves to grow. Late spring/cold spring: But there is no chance of that happening soon. T he funny thing is, although our leaves are usually out much earlier, it was greener and lusher out towards the bottom of the mountain ranges at the base of the Coquihalla hiway, a two hour drive from the ocean, then it was here. As we progressed towards White Rock, spring seems to have rewound it’s self back a few days. Gone are the green spears of grass growing, branches still bare, with only the smallest touches of green tips. Unlike the golden masses of cottonwood trees on the Hi-way, that graced the river bed. Clouds of golden new leaves etched on the banks of the churning river. No real change: When we got home, nothing had changed, spring has not come to wave a magic wand, the trees are still unresponsive. The hosta’s undisturbed in their sleeping dirt, only a smidge higher, the beautiful gingko tree on my patio, just barely tufted with green promise. I didn’t miss the change over after all. So I wonder, if it were not so far, would I decide to go back to that golden river banking, and fly among the cottonwoods shimmering leaves. Or would I choose to wait here patiently for spring to arrive, and not take the chance of missing anything?
As I glanced anxiously at my 305, the grim reality was sinking in. Unless I pull of an Usain Bolt, there was absolutely no way I would be hitting my goal. I need to leave everything out there. Right here. No tomorrows. A final push, one last heave for glory netted a 4:53 final lap... .
And I missed it by 15 seconds. Damn.
Thank God for Google Images
But wait, we're getting ahead of ourselves. It all started on a stormy Saturday night at Glorietta 4 ... .
GBM: Miss, may I register for the 10k? Thank you. ECO-Dash Counter Girl : Eto po. 300 lang. GBM: Hmmm. Where's the singlet? EDCG: Ay, naubos na po, nung Sunday pa. GBM: Aaah, ok.
(walks away, opens race packet, goes back)
GBM: Miss, why do you have two bibs? That is quite... unconventional . EDCG: Ay Sir, ung isa para sa harap, ung isa sa likod. First time niyo ho ba? GBM: Uh... . It's actua.. EDCG: Okay lang ho, kaya ninyo yan, basta hinga malalim lang.Nauso na nga yang ranning na yan eh. Nga pala sir, rain or shine yan tuloy!
So for 300 bucks I ended up with 2 race bibs, a bit of a weird conversation... . and that was pretty much it. Not that it actually matters - I heard a lot of gripes about its "minimalist" design - but I was hoping to get more bang out of my 300 bucks. Internet legend Tito Caloy was supposed to grace us with his presence, but was apparently caught up deep in training for the San Mig National Drinking Finals. So I went out on a dreary Sunday morning, in hopeful anticipation of the great unknown, what with so many intangibles put into play.
"Secret" Training If you have been following this blog from time to time, then you're probably aware of my well-chronicled struggles against the menace that is ITBS.
Gone for good? Forced to drastically cut down mileage , I put in a couple of duds at some of our recent races. I was already thinking, Am i done ? Is that it for me? Visions of a surgically repaired Samboy Lim and Shaun Livingston looking like ghosts of their old selves haunted me. What if I'll never regain my old form? Through the thankful intervention of a higher power, I have been running relatively pain free for the past several weeks. That's when I decided to flat out just go for out it. Serious training for two weeks, harder than I ever trained before. I was going to secretly target a sub-50 time for this race, if I fail I could just say I was "pacing" someone. So what did I do exactly?
If I told you, then it wouldn't be a secret anymore, right? :) :p
The Case of the Missing Ipod
In an extremely weird twist of fate, I lost my beloved iPod the day I learned that my quest for that elusive Master's degree was finally over. Ahh. My life seems to be in bittersweet symphony right now. But what should I do? I find it extremely hard to run without music, I seem to be grossed out by my own snarly breathing.
Will give dog for ipod Thankfully, I found a weird-looking Mp3 player lying around the house, the type you could get for 500 bucks at the mall. 256 mb, no song randomizer, weird shape. Sold! At this point, I would have brought a Walkman to the race if need be.
If you ever ran with one of these, thanks for visiting my blog Master!
The Race Itself
Okay, let's be practical. Due to the nature of this belated post, by now you should have already read a plethora of blog entries outlining how drenched we were, how there was a lack of marshals along Bayani, et.al. Obviously, I won't go there - your time is more precious than mine. Instead, let's go straight to the crux of the matter, punctuated by the precise songs blaring from my cheapo Mp3 player in homage to my newly departed and dearly beloved Ipod.
Kilometer 1 - Dreamgirls Theme (not a word)
Jesus Christ and Mary it sure is cold! I don't think I have ever started a race at this temp, it's even colder than when we did Botak Baguio. Oh shoot , crappy Mp3 player auto adjusts its volume everytime you turn it off. It's .. it's not loud enough! I still hear my own breathing! Crap. Where do they make this thing anyway? Rain is pouring down pretty bad, I don't have time to get it out of my hydrobelt. Yes it's that pathetic I need to squeeze it into my hydrobelt. Opening pace is at 4:29, think I could have gone faster but the rain is slowing me down. Just passed a runner who is complaining about the rain audibly. Hmmm, chess isn't so bad once you get used to it.
All you got to do is dream...
Kilometer 2-3 - Do You Believe In Magic - Loving Spoonful
So I got out of the bane of all runners this side of town in one piece. The Kalayaan Flyover was my first major hurdle, and I did a 4:44/5:03 on it, first time I ever hit a sub-5 split on it. People walking all around me. Yes, it does get the best of you. Given that 82.67% of all Sunday race routes pass through this point, I'm guessing it doesnt have too many fans.Much like an untamed beast in the wilderness, oftentimes you can but just hope and pray you live to tell the tale. Relatively unscathed, I come flying downslope. Current total pace is at 4:45. So far so good.
Yup, never heard of em' either
Kilometer 5 - VST & Co. - Sumayaw Sumunod
Wow, these drivers are crabby! You woulwd think that they'd be more relaxed on a Sunday morning. The honking was reminiscent of Edsa Dos. Unfortunately, seems that we're the subjects of their profanity-laced tirades. They should go to the Kanye West School of Charm.
It's just like rush hour traffic, only on a Sunday. Why so angry?
Completed the halfway point at 23:48, that may just possibly be my best 5k split ever. Route reminds me of my Globe Run for Home debacle. Is this my day of vindication?
Sumabay sa mga bagong tugtugin ngayon... .
Kilometer 7-8 - Eraserheads - Huwag Kang Matakot
As much as I would like to imbibe the E-heads spirit on this, the pressure was so intense it was hard not to be. The homeward bound Kalayaan Flyover won this round, dropping me to a 5:22/5:34 split, breaking both my body and spirit. The pressure was getting to me , and I was starting to panic inside. Total pace had dropped to an even 5:00, which meant that I would be missing my target. More panic. I need to make up time. But I'm zapped out. Must... soldier... on. Just 2k more... ...
One of their last albums before calling it quits
Kilometer 9-10. Amy Winehouse - Rehab. They say that running is just as much mental as physical, sometimes even more. I completely agree, 100%. Here I was , on the cusp of beating one of my biggest running goals, and I was doing a completely chokejob. Mentally, I was messed up. I was freaking out and panicking. Prematurely celebrating, I was even thinking of a title for the blog post already. Physically, I was spent. Blatant lack of training. A quick, anxious glance at the 305 showed 45:00 with a little over a kilometer to go. Running on fumes, a blatant attempt to let it all hang out was hatched.
However, the grim reality was sinking in. Unless I pull of an Usain Bolt, there was absolutely no way I would be hitting my goal. More panic. I need to leave everything out there. Right here. No tomorrows. A final push, one last heave for glory... .
And I missed it by 15 seconds. Damn.
Gut-wrenching. I broke down mentally that last two kilometers. Got caught up in the moment so to speak. Wasn't able to deliver. On the precipice of success, I blinked. And in that nanosecond, I missed the bus. At the highest echelons of all sports, this is what separates the men from the boys. The winners from the pretenders. It's that requisite mental toughness designed to take you to the next level.
I think I need to go to rehab after this
Overall, it was a bittersweet moment. I still set a new 10k PR at 50:14, lopping of a minute and a half from my pre-injury best. Was a tremendous day for Takbo.ph denizens Sam, Vicky, and Argo as they all set new records on their 21k times. Tremendous improvement. Keep up the good work guys!
PR people with podium gal Carins
John Lloyd an d... Luis? In retrospect, this race taught me a lot about myself. Getting so near, only to falter in the end inspires me to do even better next time around. To quote William Ernest Henley, "my head is bl oody, but unb owed". Indeed, we all live to run another day.
And sometimes, in the greater scheme of things
That's all that really matters.
Editor's Note : Results just came in, wanted to add that this performance was good enough for 26th place amongst 532 runners in the category, my best finish ever :P
Well it seems we have a new neighbour, he’s noisy, messy, and smelly. And I have the feeling that using the old fish fertilizer trick on him isn’t going to scare him away. That might even keep him around too much. He isn’t a picky eater, and he’s a scavenger. Some people know them as Masked Bandits. We call him a Raccoon. We were hanging out on the deck yesterday afternoon when Boo pounced on something, and headed straight for the open patio door. It was a good thing that Gar noticed him, I was busy repotting a new acquisition of a red maple tree, and my mind was elsewhere. At the last second Gar managed to catch hold of our evasive black beauty with his squeaking bounty in his mouth. Yes, Boo had caught a mouse, and he had managed to do it all by himself. Although at first Gar did say that the mouse most likely marched in front of the Boo, laid it’s self down and died, but I knew better. Boo the proud hunter was praised for his vermin catching skills, and the poor dead mouse was quickly dispatched to the compost pile that lurks on the edge of our deck. Life went on, and the afternoon passed. Later we were sitting inside and noticed that the Boo had perked right up. He headed out the door at a dash, and curious I followed. There at the compost pile was this raccoon, munching on the mouse. The neighbour’s cats were only 3 feet from it wondering what the animal was doing, and Boo showed no fear, but seemed inquisitive. This certainly called for the immediate use of the water hose, but even that wouldn’t scare our new neighbour away.
I vote for eviction, but that might be hard to do. This guy seems determined to stay. The pics are not the best, it was a little dark under the Rhodies, but I wanted to show you just how big and dangerous this guy is. So if you have any [nice] suggestions on how to evict him, please let me know!! If you haven’t already, don’t forget to enter the giveaway from Ramsign, you can find that post here. It’s on until Saturday, May 28th 2011.
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.
I have a confession to make. I suck at presscons. Absolutely suck at them. I am quite possibly the worst blagger to invite to these things. For some insipid reason or another, I keep on missing them. Either my car gets a flat, I'm assigned OT work or I have some family thing. There's always something going on. I have like a 10% attendance rate, and sooner or later I'll be declared persona non grata by race directors and PR people alike. I never get em goodies. Sob.
So you could just picture the smile on my face when they told me that the presser for the upcoming San Mig Coffee Bay Run Dash for Health ( okay that was long) was at Congo Grille at El Pueblo. That's like... .. two blocks from my house. Yessssss. Finally. No way I'm missing this.
I wonder who's that runner?
One more miss and goodbye presscons foreverrr. Scheduled at 7pm, I cockily thought to myself, Nah its a 3 minute drive from my place. Why rush? Of course, in a move reeking of sheer time management genius I totally forgot that it was Friday uwian. Smart. So there I was , stuck in bumper to bumper traffic going to a resto that's roughly a kilometer and a half from my house. Great. I still have a Nat Geo hangover.
Oh the horror. So after like nearly 20 minutes, I finally get to the place. And guess what? Much to my consternation evil manong guard curtly stonewalls me at the entrance with a "Ser, pono na poh and parkeeng dito. Weeting na poh dito, weeting." Weeting for parking would have entailed me adding to the already ginormous traffic jam. Apparently, Mr. Murphy has a secret crush on me and follows me around wherever I go.
Shunget ni koya.
So to make a long story short, I brought the car back home and tempo ran from my house back to the resto, a vain attempt to somehow temper my unexplainable tardiness. Of course, I had to run in jeans, leaving my poise on the pavement in the process. Good thing a lot of familiar faces greeted me when I came in, denizens of the running blogosphere in full force.
The faces behind your favorite blags
Que, Gail , and Vimz of Kulit on the Run with hubby Art So let's cut to the chase. After having way more than my fair share of sisig and chicken, the presser proper unfolded. Takbo.ph first lady Que did the honor of introducing the GM of San Mig Coffee, and he gave the requisite welcome remarks. Kind man. I wish I had him as a Tito.
Que in the house!
Tito saying something about San Mig
Soon after, things were turned over to the comely Marketing Manager ( or so I think, the exact title eludes me) of the brand and she gave a quick primer on the product line. Three things I learned : 1. The San Mig Coffee "healthy" line is tops in its market segment 2. Good ol' Piolow is no longer their endorser, thus visions of a grand showdown dissipated into thin air quicker than it was conjured, and 3. Presenting to a rowdy, predominantly male blogger crowd is an exercise in restraint. Lol.
Deep breathly. I can do this.
Soon after, it was a pleasant surprise to see that Ian Alacar would be assuming Race Director duties for this race. Absent from the mainstream scene as of late, it was nice to see him around for a change. For long-time followers of this site, you may recall that Ian was the race director when I first conquered the ultramarathon distance at Botak awhile back. Fun guy.
Happy mems with Ian and Sideshow Bob
So what are the essentials you need to know about the race? It's going to be held on May 23rd, Mall of Asia grounds. But before you dismiss it as just another MOA race, hold your horses. It's being touted as the first race to have a route that actually cuts through the Manila baywalk. 3k and 5k distances cost P450 a pop, while the 10k and 15k races are at P550.
Race is actually bang for the buck, you get a fancy Unibersidad-made singlet that would probably cost as much as the registration if bought as a stand-alone. And the cool part about the whole thing is you could order your race kits over the phone, delivered COD by WWW.express. The number to call is 795-1777. Niiice.
For you freebie/perk hunters out there, I'd rather that you find out for yourselves what's in store for you during race day, but to give you a quick heads up there would be photobooths, bottomless coffee, loot bags, seminars, and dare I say, free massages?
So there you go. Registration starts April 17, 2010 to May 19, 2010, call the number I mentioned earlier for more details. If you've never run around the bay area, this is a good race to actually try out the local scenery. Hope this helped everyone, I'll see you on the road!
Requisite Gingerbread photo-op with Ian and Marketing gal.
As usual, am late with my article (x_x) But heck, I'll still post it so let's keep it short and sweet (I'll try no promises) As you may or may not know, last year's vaunted Conquer Corregidor 10-miler race is back with a vengeance. But race director Edward Kho would be doing everybody a disservice if he came up with the exact same thing right? So this year, he made the course even harder, extended it a couple of kilometers, put in some cool events before and after, and voila - you have this year's Corregidor International Half Marathon.
Coolness.
The salient points of the race were explained during the fancy presser amidst a cruise around Manila Bay with the usual suspects in attendance. There was even a Bearwin sighting, good job in dropping something like 20 pounds. As the world-class sunset that practically no one ever gets to see came to the fore, I just realized that's it's been a year already since we did the inaugural test run as the race was still under conceptualization. Sigh. Time flies by so fast.
Beautiful. You see, this isn't just some random race presser for me. This is special. My Garmin helped measure the distance on that original route. I even gave out TBR magazines to the people during the cruise going to the island (yeah Jaymie, I really did. Like some flight attendant dude. I was half waiting for someone to ask for more coffee or to fluff their pillow)
Been a year already? Point is, in one way or another I somehow feel a close affinity to this race, and I can't help but revel in how it has come back, at on paper, better than ever. Some straight talk - this isn't an easy course by any means. "Hard" may be an understatement as inclines reach a 60 degree gradient, which renders St. Martin Ortigas much akin to the kiddie pool. If you're looking to set a PR with this race, better immerse yourself in the free training programs that Ed Kho would be giving away as a value added service. This course ain't for the faint of heart, but it's the perfect avenue for budding intermediate level runners to test themselves. The dramatic backdrops are but mere gravy.
Intense.
Learn to endure. Rather than spoil the fun by giving you a history lesson, I'll tell you what to expect on December 19. First off, it's a bit on the pricey side. P2,500. Now that we got that out of the way, why in the bejesus are they charging you P2,500?
It includes your round-trip transpo. Just like last year, you can opt to do overnight or a day trip. For overnighters, you can do tours, ziplines, and there would be a nice carbo-loading party by a bonfire. For those who will make sulit the vacation by staying another night, you'll be rewarded with a victory party with top bands performing. Niiiice.
What fun. It gives out a medallion. Not a medal. You heard that right. A medallion. Not your run of the mill tanso medal, but the real deal. Thick. Heavy. Eye candy. Can you pawn it? Shame on you.
Yum. Even if you suck out, you still get something. No cutoff times, but there's a "curfew time" at the halfway mark of 1:45. Come on, a 1:45 10k? Of course you can do that. Best part is, even if you DNF, you'll still get a 10k "achievement medal". Because quite frankly, even just a 10k on that course is an achievement already.
Dri-fit Shirts. Who doesn't love drifit shirts? They're cool. They're comfy. You'll wear them during the race. And on the way home. And after your training run with your buds. And to the mall. And to the... you get the picture.
I like.RFID Timing Chip. Better than the "hula hula" barcode system. You and your buds won't have to debate about "ah kasi kaya ka lang naka PR kasi sobra ng 200 meters ung course, teka icalculate ko muna" Happens more often than you think.
Athletes Backpack. The only bag you'll be allowed to check in, lots of pockets and partitions custom made for runners. You even get to display a replica of your bib number for extra pogi points. Feeling Olympic athlete, kahit for a weekend lang diba.
Why didn't they give me this last year !
Personalized Race Certificate with Name and Time. Name me the last race that gave you a personalized finisher's cert. Yeah, thought so too. Your office mates will finally believe that you're a runner, hooray.
I can harp on and on about it, and you can whine and whine about how expensive it is, but the fact of the matter is, given the setting, difficulty level, an d vacation potential/Facebook bragging rights all rolled into one, it's a terrific buy. Slots are very limited, and last year there was a mad dash for race kits towards the end. I highly suggest you register as early as possible.
Here's the part where I shamelessly copy paste the registration procedure. Check it out.
Registration Venue and Period:all weekends (Saturday and Sunday only) of October and November, subject to slot availabilityRUNNR ( Boni High Street ) Saturday and Sunday, 2pm to 9pm Second Wind (Maginhawa) Saturday only, 1pm to 6pm Second Wind (Ortigas Home Depo) Saturday only, 1pm to 6pm on-line registration facility (for participants residing abroad and outside Metro Manila) will be up on October 9, 2010Registration fee: P2,500.00 - until October (early registration) P3,000.00 - until November (late registration)Race Registration inclusions:Roundtrip ferry to and from Corregidor Full lunch buffet on race day Race bib w/ RFID timing chip Race shirt Race backpack Finisher's Medallion (or a 10k Achiever Medal) Runners' Briefing (Dec 4 and 11) at ROX Carbo-loading Bonfire Party (Dec 18, Saturday night)Victory Party with two top performing bands (Dec 19, Sunday night)Personalized Finishers' Certificate (complete with name and finish time)
Race Registration Procedures: 1) After completing registration for the race (manual or on-line), beginningthe following Monday, contact Sun Cruises at 8346857/8346858/5275555 loc 4511 0r 4512.
2) Indicate the desired trip schedule: a) Overnight – departure on Dec 18 @ 8:30am (return trip to Manila ison Dec 19 via 2:30pm trip from Corregidor*) b) Day trip – departure on Dec 19 @ 5:30am (return trip to Manila is Dec19 via 5:30pm trip from Corregidor*) c) Participants with non-competing companions (non-competingcompanions will have to pay Php2,000.00/person; no race packwill be provided to them) will have to take the Dec 18, 11:30am tripto Corregidor (return trip to Manila is on Dec 20, Monday, via 10:00amtrip from Corregidor. * for “a)” and “b)” indicate if attending the Solidarity & Victory Party on the night of December 19 to amend departure schedule to Monday, Dec 20 via 10:00am trip from Corregidor.
3) If applicable, make accommodations reservation with Sun Cruises (onlyregistered participants will be given reservations). Pay the appropriateaccommodations booking amount through the payment mode advised bySun Cruises.
4) On Dec 4 or 11 (as advised through email and text by the organizers) atROX, attend the Runners’ Briefing, pick-up the race pack, and claim theBoarding Pass and/or Accommodations Booking ticket from Sun Cruises.Ensure to bring the Acknowledgement Receipt issued duringregistration. No Acknowledgement Receipt, No Race Pack.
Race Registration Requirements:1) Properly filled out registration form (may be downloaded by Friday / available at the registration site) 2) Any valid ID (driver's licence, SSS ID, voter's ID, postal ID, passport, etc.) indicating date of birth 3) Proof of participation in a 10k race (during the last 2 months prior to registration) or 21k race (during the last 3 months prior to registration), or a full marathon (during the last 6 months prior to registration) or a doctor's certification of fitness to participate in an athletic event. For proof of race participation, a printout of the particular race result is preferable. In lieu of that, race bib will be accepted but will be subject to verification through the race results available on-line. 4) Applicable registration fee.Before we go, I'll leave you with some video snippets of what's in store for you.
Remember grade school Valentine's day celebrations? Rough textured construction paper, white sticky glue in a plastic bottle. Dull scissors squeaking as their metal blades clashed against each other. Cutting out giant heart shapes. Stinky felt pens carefully filling in hand drawn letters.
Scotch taped paper pouch"mailboxes" that hung off the edge of your desk at school? The faint hope of it being so full the next day that it would burst. Anticipation, giggling, and the worry that you would be one of those kids who only got a few valentines, mostly from the teachers, and no one else? Tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth in concentration. You carefully inscribed your name onto the back of 30 brightly colored, gender very specific Valentines, because your Mom insisted you be nice to everyone. When the red tinged, heart shaped day dawned you found yourself counting, and comparing totals with your classmates. Delving deep into the rough corners of the paper mailbox in case any errant Valentines went uncounted. Gazing enviously at the"popular" girls with their overflowing mailboxes, some so full their Valentines were cascading onto the dusty school floor, slipping out the stapled sides of their pouches.
Times have changed. Valentine's Day doesn't have to hold the key to your heart, you don't need to be married, in love, a kid, or a sweetheart to enjoy this day. And isn't that wonderful? Freeing in a way. Life is so much better now. I heart that we have learned to encourage people to break free of the more traditional thoughts that Valentine's Day is only for those in passionate relationships. We can bake cupcakes for our neighbors. Give our dog, and cat pet cookies, craft homemade cards for our friends, and send happy emails of loving thoughts to everyone we know! It's the perfect holiday…pink, and red, charming, and cute…and you get to eat sweets. No construction paper required. I heart Valentine's Day. So I'm wondering are you planning on spreading a little V day love around? Cupcakes, cookies, warm socks? Kitty treats, doggy donuts?
Dough you say it's so! If you're not into sweet stuff…there is a"todiefor" recipe on my DoughyGoodness MBD Pinterest board. It's a simple recipe for potato buns from Crazy for Crust. Of course I had to make sure it was as good as I thought they might be before recommending them, and you know what? They are even better! Her recipe uses potato flakes instead of potato water, rising into a bun that is soft, and splendidly moist, with a butter infused delight of a crust. I brush them with melted butter, then sprinkle Parmesan cheese, garlic powder, rosemary, and a dash of sea salt, before baking them in my cast iron frying pan. I heart homemade potato buns! Happy Valentine's Day to you.
Yes, Yes YES! Those were the words ringing in my head as I was sprinting to the finish line at yesterday's Philippine International Marathon 10k race. Not prematurely as was my folly in the numerous times I have faltered in the past - I made sure the celebration came when the mat was right in front of me. I took time to savor the moment... and sought to retrace the twists and turns leading up to it.
Finally! Yay! What's the big deal? To some, a sub-50 finish may not seem like a particularly big deal. But to me, it takes on a certain measure of significance as it represents the pinnacle of a particularly tough climb from the recesses of an unhealthy downward spiral. Not to mention finally getting past a mental hurdle that had incessantly gotten the best of me. I was actually so close to giving up on it already. Just let it go man. It ain't meant to be.
Not in the blood Why was this the case? I was thinking, maybe I just don't have it in me. You know how some people are just natural athletes? Introduce them to running, and right off the bat they could run a 45 minute 10k split with no training at all. I was never one of those people. Not even close. Blame it on poor genes. I have had the benefit of having totally unathletic parents, unless you consider competitive eating a sport. In high school, could never run the fastest, nor jump the highest. My friends could touch the basketball rim. I could touch the ... . board. I even tried killing myself with Jumpsoles, ever remember those things? Nah, didn't work. Not in the blood I guess.
My Dad could take this dude any day, name the place Humble BeginningsMy first 10k was a 1:28. In what was to be a precursor to my positive split strategy, I started out really fast... . only to bottom out during the 2nd half. I had no conditioning to speak of. I was also um, fat. 205 lbs. Gak. I was so conscious of my pata that I wore jogging pants. Yeah, the baggy type that was all the rage in the 1990's. I seemed to have been passed by every Tom, Dick and Harry along with Jane. Depressingly, I nearly threw up at the finish line. Yeah. Talk about being out of shape.
Grandpa beat me fair and square
Getting Ambitious Long,painstaking hours of lonesome training later and I found myself clearing the sub-60 and sub-55 marks in rapid succession. Hey, I like this. I'm actually... getting to be good at this. Admittedly, I'm a competitive running junkie. Don't know if that's a good thing, but I constantly benchmark against the very best runners in our group. I want to force myself to get better. Wanting to take my game to the next level, I discovered that lowering the bar from 55 - 50 was becoming exponentially harder.
Wanna go up the ladder? It's harder than you think.
Breakdown City
My best shot came at Ayala Eco-Dash. Let you in on my thought process during those crucial final moments :
They say that running is just as much mental as physical, sometimes even more. I completely agree, 100%. Here I was , on the cusp of beating one of my biggest running goals, and I was doing a completely chokejob. Mentally, I was messed up. I was freaking out and panicking. Prematurely celebrating, I was even thinking of a title for the blog post already. ... and ended up missing it by 15 seconds. Damn. Oh the heartbreak.
Breakdowns put you in esteemed company This is It? In an attempt to finally slay the ghosts of 10k breakdowns past, I had resolved to join this year's Philippine International Marathon. Good friend/"doping like effect coach/Conquer Corregidor head honcho Edward Kho told me "this was the flattest course I have ever ran". Knowing that the route would take me across Roxas Blvd, I said to myself,hey, maybe I'll get lucky this time. I rushed to get to the venue as early as 3:30 in a lame attempt to meet Sir Jovie aka Bald Runner to get my 1,000 Km club shirt. No such luck. I was there 3:30, took me about 40 minutes to find a parking slot. By that time they had already gone off for the start of the 42k. Boo. Maybe next time.
So in short, I waited for several hours until the 6:00 am gun. Former President FVR actually dropped by, gave us runners in the front rows a quick pep talk. He seems like a nice guy. In hindsight though, don't they all?
Panic Mode As the race began, I was a little off-tangent because everyone next to me was sprinting like a madman. You sort of get caught up in it. Or maybe that's just the sheer lack of conditioning, nursing flu-like symptoms all week. Took me some time to get into any rhythm whatsoever, and the splits showed it - 4:13. 4:35, 4:55. Oh no. It's not supposed to go down that fast . Nooooo!!!! Breathe. Relax. And just as I felt I was getting my bearings back, i ran right smack into the last thing I wanted to see - a flyover. So much for a completely flat course. Noooo. I felt my sub-50 dreams evaporate right then and there.
What a waste. I lost pace with those two flyovers. Tried pushing it, but knocked the wind out of my sails right after. Losing pace rapidly. And my woes were compounded by the 5k contingent at their turnaround point, as I had to labor through a veritable "Alay Lakad" crowd. At the 8k mark, I had a 5:17 split (worst of the race) with no relief in sight. I could barely breathe. Legs weren't there anymore. Call it a day. Game over.
Freaking out was more like it. Digging Deep Then I thought to myself. Here I go again. At Eco-dash, I gave up mentally. I just threw in the towel. Then came the realization - just 10 more minutes of agony for the glorious satisfaction of victory. I once read a quote that said "when it starts to really hurt, that's the time to push it even harder" You have no idea how much those little snippets actually helped. Digging deep, I went headhunting and went after a really speedy guy wearing a KOTR 2007 singlet. Setting aside the pain, I went for broke, knowing each second wasted brought me farther and farther away from my dream. The 9k split was starting to look encouraging. 44:10. I can do this! I ran like there was no more tomorrow. All of those days training in the rain, in the heat, at 4:00 am in the morning - this was what it all comes down to. Right then and there, you had to leave your blood and guts on the road. There simply was no other way. You HAD to want it. It wasn't going to present itself on a silver platter. And upon hitting the line, I was numb at first. Then it registered. 49:12. Oh yes. Yes. YES. I finallly did it! I finally breached the sub-50 mark!!! Yahoo!!!
My mind drifted to all those past failures, those past trials. The inherent lack of athleticism. How the goal had seemed so lurid to begin with, and steeling yourself for the eventuality that maybe you just didn't have it in you. Just let it go man. It ain't meant to be. It probably never will be. Basking in the glow of victory, i was happy, overjoyed even, that for one day at least... .
