My Way of Living [Search results for life and running] 

Before we even talk about this... .

We need to know first if you... ..

Ain't running BDM?

Bunch of loonies... Are tired of breaking the bank for weekend races?

This running thing is pretty expensiveNot a fan of Lactobacilli Shirota Strain?

EwwwwwIf you answered in the affirmative for all and want a "cleansing and refreshing" option, then why not check out the Amazing Kidney Race to be held this March 7 at UP? In a nod to celebrating World Kidney Day (yeah, there's such a thing) , proceeds of the race will go to a kidney disease awareness campaign as well as for the treatment of patients. Hey if only for World Kidney Day, give this race a shot!

Save our kidneys!Interested? Kidney fever much? Here, read up more on it! :)

The kidney is one of the vital organs that make the complex and crucial body processes possible. As an acknowledgement of the kidneys’ amazing role in human physiology and in celebration of World Kidney Day 2010 with the theme “Amazing Kidneys”, the Philippine Society of Nephrology (PSN), in cooperation with UP Family Life and Child Development Circle, is staging a rare race event dubbed as “The Amazing Kidney Race.” To be held in the scenic and breezy campus of UP Diliman, “The Amazing Kidney Race” promises to give beginner and seasoned runners alike a unique and exciting racing experience.

Institutionalizing the humanitarian dimension of running and race events is what the PSN aims to accomplish in staging “The Amazing Kidney Race.” Proceeds of this race event will be used mainly for supporting the kidney disease awareness campaign of PSN and the operation and treatment of kidney patients, and partly for the UP Child Development Center. Likewise, this race is among the platform events of PSN adjunct to the global celebration of World Kidney Day.

As PSN aims to pull off a fun yet challenging race, “The Amazing Kidney Race” will have four event categories. There is the 15K Relay Race limited only to 50 teams. Each team shall be composed of 5 members who will correspondingly complete the 1k-2k-3k-4k-5k race distances to complete a total of 15 kilometers. Adding twist to this race category are the baton passing and challenges that must be met by the relay runners in the handover zones to complete transition. Then there is the heart-warming 2.2K Parent-Child Tandem Run especially allocated for Mom/Dad-Child team-ups. During the race, participants and spectators will get a touching sight of a parent egging on and encouraging her/his child who is determined to give his/her all. There is also the 5K UP FLCD Circle Challenge, a banner event of event-partner UP FLCD Circle, particularly catered to beginner runners or veteran racers who have the need for speed. And finally there is the centrepiece event, the 15K Eliminator Pursuit, where race participants will get an adrenalin rush as they negotiate UP Diliman campus’ best kept running course secret – the Heartbreak Route. 15K racers will get to know first-hand why it is called as such. And as if the route is still not inviting, all participants who meet the 45-minute half-way mark or 1hour45minutes finish point cut-off times will receive a Finishers’ Medal.

I likeyyy... ..

Both 15K and 5K solo race events will have MD and Open categories and subsequent male and female divisions. Top three individual and group finishers in all events and categories will be awarded with medals and certificates of achievement.

So there! I'll update this post as to where you guys and gals could register for this worthwhile event as the details come in. Have fun and run for em' kidneys!

Friday, 10:38 pm. Sleep. As I write this, conventional wisdom would bring me an immediate, sharp rebuke. I'm supposed to be in bed already, resting up for what is shaping up to be the biggest race of my life. While most of my friends who will be likewise running are already comfortably holed up in their Bataan hotels, I'll still be in Manila attending to inescapable work commitments through the morning. Awesome.

BDM. Daunting.
Last year, just running this prestigious race seemed like a far-fetched delusion at best. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that it would actually be a reality this year. The Bataan Death March 102k Ultramarathon is without a doubt the longest individual road race in the country, and poses a daunting challenge to even the most seasoned runners. Just being in the company of these tremendous endurance athletes is already an honor in itself.

We're running in their honor.

Friday, 10:55 pm. Madness. Ask most people what they are doing this weekend, and you'll get a plethora of answers that range from "Movie lang" to "Kain tulog tambay". I can guarantee that "Running from Mariveles, Bataan to San Fernando, Pampanga for 18 hours" is an answer that is highly unlikely to crop up.

Common reactions range from :

"Bro, may problema ka ba? Want to talk about it?"

"Are you seryosss??!!"

"Pwede namang magkotse!"

"Pang baliw na yun ah!"

"Sana manalo ka!"

"Ang aga ng penitensya ah!"

Madness. Madness I say.

Friday, 11:06 pm. Anxiety. 24 hours from now, the biggest street party we'll ever be part of will commence. For the past few weeks, nothing has dominated my daily life more than this life-changing event. The word "BDM" seems to come out of my mouth every 30 seconds. I can barely function in the real world. Even if I tried to, I'm pretty sure it's a pretty bad acting job. Everyone seems to be getting sick from the anxiety, both figuratively and literally. My world is at a standstill, eagerly awaiting my day of reckoning.

I can hardly wait.

Friday, 11:30. Preparation. My thought process is gradually grinding to a standstill. Right now, so many things in my head that I can't think straight anymore. I don't even know if this article will be coherent anymore. But in hindsight, after nearly 14 or 15 hours of continuous running, I don't think anything will be anyway. In those moments of darkness, I know I have two marathons in two weeks to fall back on, an 8 hour long run, and running from 12nn - 3:30 pm in the scorching desolation that was the final 15k of the route. Would that be enough? No idea. But... . it has to be.

Of course, nothing like the real thing.
Friday, 11:45. Support. While my team mates have support crews stocked with runners, I have a crew with more experience in competitive drinking than running. It's led by the immortal internet legend Tito Caloy ( to newer followers of my site, check this out for clarity), my best buddy/de facto crew chief AJ (a former UAAP Volleyball MVP whose only running experience was this year's Animo Run 5k), and his friend that I've never even met before. Seriously, I don't even know the guy. I heard he's nice though. I had them agree to crew for me while they were all drunk and Pacquiao was pummeling Cotto like hell. Now that's what I call good strategy.

Dealbreaker question : Pwede namang uminom sa oto ung suporta mo diba?
Friday, 11:55. To a higher power. Getting really sleepy. Heck, I'm not even sure if you guys would even actually get to read this. But with just a few hours before the madness begins, I felt I've done as much as I could to prepare for this. I leave it all up to HIM now. For only he could give me the strength I need to overcome the tremendous physical and mental challenges I will be facing. There's simply no other way.

Saturday, 6:25. D-Day . I could barely sleep last night. Even listening to 98 Degrees didn't help. I'm giving a talk in an hour, and I haven't even showered yet. To help exacerbate nerves, for some reason I signed up for Globe's Superduo thing. Now I can call my crew one to sawa while out there without worrying about load. And I get a landline number that directs to my cel too. Cool.

Now I feel just like one of em' Sun people.
People often ask me, why do you do this? Why run 102 kilometers for 18 hours? Why subject yourself to this tremendous physical task? Same reason why people are so obsessed with summiting Everest. Because it's there. And as long as it's there, it will always bug me incessantly until I conquer it. Also, I was always curious if everyone really turns into cute, furry animals with funny names Km 70 onwards. Anyway, I'm running late. Enough said. Thank you all for the support, prayers, and kind words, I truly appreciate it. I think I could say I'm at peace already.

Now let's dance.

Busy weekend for all of us! It's one of those weekends that so many big events were held concurrently. Running denizens were divided amongst the Cebu International Marathon, Subic International Marathon, Fat Ass 24-hour run, and the 2011 Bull Run. With a veritable smorgasbord of choices, let's see how everybody fared with these different runs.

• I wonder how SIM 2011 fared this year? Among the people I knew, only Endure Multisport star Erick Guieb joined this one, and last I heard he was gunning for a modest below 5-hour finish. But knowing him, he probably did it in 3:45. Lol.

• I was part of it in 2009, running the 10k Nike Human Race (where I placed 13th) and the 21k race (where I ran with Tito Caloy) Sigh, how time flies so fast. Internet Legend Tito Caloy has since gone back to the professional competitive drinking circuit, he missed it too much. Came in to the scene too late to know who he is? Google google google.

Those were the days...

Back to his first love.

• In related news, SIM was also memorable for me because I ran into Ultramarathoner Abby on the way there at Kenny Rogers along NLEX. It was the first time I had seen her in years. Who would have known... ... .. :P Uuuy.

Our first ever picture together hihi.

• Back to SIM , that was also memorable because we were doing support for the marathoners and water ran out as early as 18k along the route. A trip down memory lane : Craig Logan was pushing Justin and collapsed. Rico sacrificed his race and rushed him to the hospital. Argow was overcome with emotion as his first marathon was marred by a lack of adequate water.There was a screaming mob afterwards, as a result there was TOO much hydration the day after for the 21k race. Fun.

It's howkay, we got your back. Hug.

• As expected, the Kenyans dominated this year's race with Vertek opting to compete in the 21k, eventually winning it. When will we ever have someone else other than Vertek to chase down these dudes?Can Cris Sabal hold his own? Someone give me data please. Winning time of 2:23 probably wasn't even close to their best.

• Sometimes, I just realized that if I were a girl, I would be a very fast girl. A very fast, tall, and fugly one with hairy legs at that.

• Congratulations to all who joined Cebu. Wonderfully organized race, I ran the inaugural edition last year and gave it rave reviews . It was as if the entire city was in synergy for one dynamic event. Haide Acuna, Doc Bontol, John Pages and the rest of the Cebu gang no doubt contribute to the robust running community they have over there, and this race is a succinct reflection of that. Only downside - you'll probably have too much fun with it that you might end up getting drunk and messing up your race. Not guilty as charged. Pockets of Endure, ANR and TPB people were there, tell us all about how it went! I have no doubt it was an awesome race as always.

Last year with Cebu running celeb/BDM 102 batchmate Haide

Cheering on Takbo.ph boss Jinoe on his first marathon

• The Fat Ass Run has long been some sort of an urban legend amongst ultra running folk, and I remember when quintessential ultraman Atty. Jon Lacanlale started it a couple years back. Back then, it didn't really garner that much attention save for a few hard core crazies. I had always wanted to run this, but for some reason it always worked against my schedule. So I was pleasantly surprised that it seemed that 1 in every 4 people seemed to be headed to Clark for it. If I'm not mistaken, you can run in 12 and 24 hour increments. Damn right it's crazy. Among the notables, BR did a leisurely 54k in about 8 hours, Frontrunner EIC/ Hardcore chief Jonel did an inhuman 121k in nearly 22 hours, and Albert "Run2dmoon" Salazar emerged this year's Fat Ass King with nearly 140k over 24 hours. Wow.

Jonel overcome with emotion at his "graduation" after running for 22 hours.

• While I'm having the time of my life being a spectator/heckler here, I shudder to think that I'll be running 160 kms in a little over a month. Ayayay.

• Don't you find it ironic that the people who join Fat Ass don't have anything close to resembling a fat ass? In fact, I have a sneaky suspicion that after running for 24 hours, they may not even have an ass at all.

• Of the all the aforementioned races, the one I did join was the one closest t0 home, the 2011 Bull Run at BGC (yes, I'm hip like that. Fort? Ano yun?). Fresh from winning the team championship at Fort Running Festival, Team Powerpuff Boys (affectionately known as TPB or "those pink guys") decided to take a stab at the team competition once more with momentum on our side. I got to train once with the gang, and if before I felt we were on a somewhat parallel fitness level, their resolute dedication to training has reaped incredible dividends. Being engrossed into establishing some semblance of a multisport base, I simply couldn't hack the aggressive programs I used to pull off. The disparity was blatantly obvious. My guys (no homo) simply ripped the course apart en route to the team snagging 1st place in the team category once more. Our goal was at the very least 1:20, and everybody did way better than that. Notable performances included Chris Iblan running an inhuman 1:03 ( 3:58 pace for 16k??) and Brandow snagging a 1:13 (wild 4:34 pace) . As for myself, I served as the weak link, checking it a lame 1:21:15, 5:04 pace which ordinarily would have been fast but these guys put that to shame. I need to ramp up my running, the boys are tearing it up there.

TPB with, er, fans :P

Posing at the awarding "Bb. Pilipinas" style.

• Mary Anne Ringor usually does a good job at organizing, last year was pretty good. This year,epic fail at the 16k gun going off ten minutes early. It was supposed to start at 5:45 as was announced in the published material. We were at the corral already, and me Jix and Nick took a leak thinking there was more than ample time to get back. Much to our chagrin the gun went off as we were on the way back. We're vets at this, and it's really no big deal even if wading through hundreds of 10k runners and the back end of the 16k pack was draining. Still, it would be nice if we could keep to the published start times.

• Double fail to the drivers along the Makati ave intersection who kept on impatiently honking their horns. You see there's a race going on, a little consideration wouldn't hurt. Highly indicative of our mentality, in other countries people on the road would actually cheer runners on. Hay nako.

• Fail to Accel gels. Gu didn't have any chocolate variants, so we decided to give it a go. Tasted good, but I don't think it helped me one bit. In short, it was so bad that even the placebo didn't work. Shucks.

• Tip of the week : 1 pound lost = 12 seconds faster in a 10k run. Lose 10 lbs, that's 2 minutes off your time!

• Pilipinas Cycling League's season opener, a century race in Jala-Jala commences in Jan 23, Endure Multisport is competing. I'm antsy, haven't had a good road ride since my crash. Pray pray pray.

• It's BDM test run season, and I'm pretty much missing all . Why? For the simple reason that I plan to race Condura 42k. I have a friendly bet with bossing Jonel because he's doing the test runs. If he still manages to outrun me it's Mcdo breakfast time. Juicy. :P

When my body gives out and my head tells me to quit, my heart compels me to struggle on. At some point, however, my head and my heart get in 'cahoots' with each other. They both demand I stop. That is when my spirit soars and their protestations are of no avail. I am propelled by a force unseen, drawn to a potential I have yet to realize. I shake off the burden of the physical and wake up to experience my dream. At last I am free... .

Some have dubbed it the final frontier. Well, for the moment at least. The fact of the matter is, right now there is no longer road race in the country. The Bataan Death March 160k Ultramarathon is in a league of its own, and dwarfs all comers to the table. Nothing even remotely comes close. Participants are either honored in hushed, reverential tones or maligned as foolhardy and ignorant.Maybe even stupid. Save for a trifling number, after KM 102 pretty much everybody would be entering the twilight zone. The first ever 100-mile race in the country sticks out like Everest on steroids to the hungry masses, the novelty of the great unknown drawing these inquisitive endurance athletes like moths to a flame. The appeal to be part of history ups the risk/reward scale on an unprecedented level, and athletes will be tested as they have never been before. How long should one soldier on, and when should one know when to quit? It is the quintessential paradox of a discipline that is fueled by blood, guts, and an indomitable will to make it to that finish line. It is a paradigm that will be revisited in recurring snippets as the tale unravels.

The few and the proud...

Prologue

"May invite ka na ba pre?" That was the prevailing water cooler topic for ultra running denizens a couple months back. As for me, the answer was a resounding NO. I wasn't too surprised though, and already had already somehow come to terms with it. After my maiden stint last year with BDM 102, I never really did anything that could be remotely considered "ultra" anymore. While my contemporaries had joined practically every "mid-distance" (if one could consider 70k as such. Really now.) ultramarathon race that Sir Jovie Narcise (better known in running circles as the irrepressible Bald Runner or just plain BR for short) had put out there, it was no big secret that I have been dabbling into multisport and cycling for the most part and had pretty much been out of the scene. So it was really no shocker. I would be lying if I said it didn't bug me though. Just to be considered for the race is a big honor already, and after all I did apply for it. Thing was,we had absolutely no idea what the criteria was for selection. Rumors abound that supposedly only 15 hour finishers would be considered. But then as the initial wave of invites came out, people who were right around my finish range were getting golden tickets, which pretty much added to my anxiety. Perhaps it was my inactivity with the PAU (Philippine Association of Ultrarunners) that contributed to it. Maybe it's just not in the cards. Sigh. We all move on... ...

Then one day, as me and Abby were walking around BHS , i get a buzz on my Blackberry. Thank God for instant email. When that header said "Jovenal Narcise", my heart skipped a beat. When I saw the subject line " Letter of Invitation to the BDM 160", I let out a yelp of joy in the middle of the walkway. Okay maybe not, but you get the idea. Abby got hers at pretty much the same time.And why shouldn't she? I'm probably the only guy in the country who has a girlfriend who runs 102 kilometers faster than he does. Happy night.This was what I wanted right? Right? But... .. I haven't had any long-distance training. Nada. Zilch. Farthest I've ran in a year was 21k. Oh my. With one fell swoop, suddenly the ball was in my court now.

Decisions, Decisions

When the announcement first came out, the race was actually meant to be BDM 151, 151 kilometers representing the cumulative total distance including the train ride of the Death March prisoners to Camp O' Donnell in Capas, Tarlac. However, there was a clamor to increase the distance to just over 160 kms to make it the official 100-mile race in the country. When BR acceded, the wheels in my head were suddenly turning. I suddenly have a shot to cross one off the old bucket list. After a prolonged period of soul searching (that took roughly about 30 minutes) I had made my decision. Obviously, you know what that decision came out to be. The die had been cast. No turning back now.

Forming the Crew

Perhaps unbeknownst to many, the support crews that you tag along for these races aren't of the prototypical cheerleader rah rah kind, which is a common misconception. It's not fun and games, it's not a street party. If at all, the support crew may even undergo more stress than the runners themselves. They are awake during practically the same time frame, and undergo constant anxiety on their runners well being. The crew has to be part inspirational leader, part drillmaster, part nutritionist, part nurse and part driver. They are perhaps the most integral supplementary element to the success of the race, and their relative efficiency could provide the final difference in toeing the fine line between life and death when push comes to shove (I'm not kidding).

Last year, I got my buddy AJ, my internet legend uncle Tito Caloy and random/seasonal friend RV (by virtue of six degrees of separation he somehow got ensnared into this) whom I met just on the day itself. They were all somehow under the impression that this would be a fun, all-night drinking session with me somehow running in the background. Of course, given the shock and stress that they were suddenly, unwittingly subjected to, they forever hold a "BDM card" on me, that they can pull as they wish. Warning to BDMers - this is prone to general abuse, so choose your crew wisely. Smirk.

This year, Abby agonized over the decision on whether to run or not. She was one of what seemed like only ten women who had qualified for it, and the chance to make history was tantalizing. On the flipside, while she was in phenomenal shape she scarcely had any run training. Crucial year in setting up her business, and I guess at one point we all just have to draw the line with priorities. With much trepidation, she decided to hold it off for next year and I hope to make it up to her then. With her addition though I finally have the benefit of not just a seasoned runner on the crew, but an veteran ultrarunner who knows what it takes to get to that finish line.

I've been bugging AJ, who worked harder than anyone last year in keeping me alive out there, to once again be part of my crew. After incessant faux rejections ( no way in hell he would turn down the possibility of two BDM cards to pull), he finally "caved in" after my assurances that this would be the "last". Which was what we said last year. Hihi.

Internet legend Tito Caloy (old Takbo.ph joke, just google my old material) wasn't supposed to be part of the crew this year and was an 11th hour callup because we needed the extra hand. He had all but retired from the running scene and promptly returned to his competitive drinking roots. His son, my cousin Mel (but we call him Shtuey, go figure) was ostensibly going to crew me, back had to back out at the last moment due to his slated thesis defense. I told him "yung thesis pwede naman ulitin, eto once in a lifetime lang to!" Bad Kuya GBM.

The final piece of the puzzle was Duart, who along with myself and AJ have formed a decade-long triumvirate dating back from our days as gangly freshmen at DLSU. He was crestfallen at missing my maiden campaign last year, and was determined to make it up this year. My energetic buddy not only signed on in a jiffy, he even provided the Innova which would become our support car.

The only crew that matters... .With everything in good stead, now all we could do was wait for our date with destiny.

The Briefing

The race briefing is an annual tradition wherein everyone makes the pilgrimage to Camp Aguinaldo to hear last minute instructions from BR. It is also the last chance for you to take hang and socialize with your "batchmates" in a somewhat lucid manner, you may be even lucky to snag a helping or two of lechon. The whole thing is pretty and cut and dry, but one slide of BR stood out to everybody that night.

Don't blame the RD!

D-Day

The advantage of having the race start in the morning is that your body clock is not out of whack. You can sleep like a normal human being and you don't have to be a zombie the first leg or so. With the rest of the team following after office hours (too bad it wasn't an official holiday pfft), me and Abby hitched with TPB bud and BDM 102 partner Mark Hernandez along with soon-to-be marathoner/TPB wifey Bea. While waiting for them at our pre-arranged BHS meeting spot, we see an Audi TT roadster park just in front of Rox. Oohhh fancy. Oddly enough, the silhouette inside was waving to us. Was someone trying to pick up Abby in broad daylight? Que Horror. Amusingly, it turned out to be none other than our good friend Rio with his new toy. The afro gave him away. Soon after Mark and Bea would arrive, and we were well on our way. Last year, I wasn't too happy with our place. This year, we decided to check-in at the MC Lodge, highly regarded by practically everyone and much nearer to KM 0. Place was cool, rooms were just slightly smaller but much cleaner and with better appointments. Of course, I pretended not to see the "295, Aircon 3 hours special" sign outside. Groovy.

It's the place to be We had time to burn, so we scoped out the place for landmarks for the crew and made sure all the gadgets were charged up. Thing I love about the place was that there were like 7 sockets in such a small room. FTW. To "relax" me we were able to set up a mini-DBD on my laptop and I was able to sneak in an article in there (hapit). Around 6 pm Saturday, we had many different choices from their five-star chef for our last supper of sorts.

Bon Apetit! Finally, some shuteye. The crew (and I expected nothing less) got lost and arrived close to midnight. After what seemed like a couple of hours we all had to get the ball rolling. The pressure was mounting. More pressure came forth (my blood pressure,that is) when my crew told me they had a P600 peso dinner. BDM card, BDM card. After what seemed like an eternity, we left the lodge and went on the starting line.An almost unmistakable cornucopia of anxiety, excitement, and fear was distinctly palpable within the car's constraints. I had worn my exact finish line outfit from last year as some weird pamahiin. Out with the old and in with the new, and in a few moments we would be seeing history unfold before our very eyes. The calm before the storm The pre-race events usually consist of a bunch of souvenir photos,some scattered well-wishes and a lot of prayers. Now, there's also the annual rendition of the US and Philippine anthems. Last year, BR gave a "soulful" rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner, (much to the enjoyment of the crowd and much to his chagrin after all the ribbing he got after lol) and this year it was US Armyman Gilbert Gray's turn. Pretty straight up, stoic but no doubt amiable fellow. Remember when we all saw Robocop without the mask? This guy is a dead ringer both in looks and demeanor. I was hit by a sudden burst of nostalgia. It seemed just yesterday that I was here, a greenhorn to the entire enterprise. Sigh, how time flies. After the requisite "class picture", the 59 brave souls on that fateful Saturday morning were off at right around 6am. Destiny and glory were waiting, now the onus was on us to do our part.

With the crew at KM 0.

I hope to replicate this pose at the finish line

The Endure Multisport Ultramen Let the madness beginThe race with no equal started off without much aplomb, with runners trotting warily in lieu of blasting off on all cylinders. Surely, these veterans knew better. Some were setting a faster pace, and only time could tell if they could hold it. After all, this was the biggest battle of our lives right here. I opened the race with buddies Mark Hernandez and OJ Giron, a couple of familiar faces that I hoped would make the journey a lot more meaningful. And in hindsight, hoping that once we enter our own Battle of the Bulge, our own private Normandy, we would all be there to keep each others sanity in check. They had a fairly ambitious goal though- finish the race in 24 hours or less. While I felt that was purely wishful thinking for me given my fitness level, the plan was to just hang with them as far as it takes me. I mean, these guys were in phenomenal shape. OJ coaches nearly full-time and Mark has been on a tear on the running circuit as of late. I would have my work cut out for me but I couldn't allow myself to be left behind.We start out conservatively, alternating a brisk jog and walking the entire 4k incline. Many are passing us at will while BR passes by in a van and chats us up. Our man is in a good mood this morning, in stark contrast to last year's drillmaster barking on a megaphone. Ordinarily, a competitive junkie like me (and I'm pretty sure these two have that same genome in them) would go nuts at being passed so... . effortlessly. But this wasn't a 10k. The reality was, we had 153 more kilometers to go. Just the thought of it scares the hell out of me. What did I get myself into again?

Just out for a weekend fun run with friends... .The Lolo Diaries

At one point, we run into a group led by the "grand old warrior" himself, the ageless Victor Ting. If you see your old man lounging around in the sala watching TV or discovering this fascinating thing called "internet" while forwarding you funny emails (just as we did in well, 1999), this guy puts them all to shame. Imagine, his apos must have it good. No way they are losing an eh ang lolo ko mas magaling sa lolo mo argument. Like, "eh ang lolo ko tumakbo mula Bataan hanggang Tarlac" End of conversation. The ageless wonder somehow had it in him to drag his 66-year old legs across a hundred miles side-by-side with runners young enough to be his grandchildren. Mark told me he could never catch the old codger during the test runs no matter how hard he tried. Thing was, he was maintaining such a ridiculously efficient, no-stopping strategy that it was practically impossible to keep up with him. Perhaps in utter embarrassment at being shown up, we finally caught up with him eventually. And here are some snippets of what I got from a living legend.

" Dati may 100k na , diyan sa may Burnham sa Baguio. Bata pa si Jovie, alam niya yun. Tumakbo ako dun! Paikot ikot nga lang kami."

"Mabagal lang tayo. Sanay tayo sa mabilis pero dito mabagal lang tayo malayo layo pa to"

"Nung 1981 sa Manila International Marathon sub-3 yung marathon ko"

"Nag two bottles pa kami ng Red Horse kagabi"

Hmm, maybe that's his secret. Damn, you mean our very own "super lolo" was a sub-3 hour dude the year before I was er, born? I suddenly conjured visions of myself running in 2041, with a young buck chatting me up at the 31st Runrio Trilogy Anniversary Run

Kid : Lolo, sigurado po ba kayo na kaya nyo pa? Tubig po? Malapit na lang, wag po pilitin.
Lolo GBM : Bah. Alam mo ba noong araw eh natakbo ako mula Bataan hanggang Tarlac?Patakbo yun ni Presidente Narcise dati kada taon
Kid : Um, er, ah ganun po ba? Waw. Talaga lang ha. Sige lo, init lang yan. Inom ka na lang ng tubig nagdidiliryo na po kayo.
Lolo GBM : Totoo! Anong akala mo nagbibiro ako? Eto ipapakita ko pa ang silver buckle ko bilang katibayan (lifts up singlet to show buckle)
Kid : Yuck indecent exposure! DOM! PEdo! Security!!!!!!

Talo Lolo mo sa Lolo ko. Kids. Pffft. As I was snapping out of my misguided daydream, I realized that the urge to do the number two was somewhat compelling enough to tell the crew about it. Abby texts back, we found one in 1.5k, that ok? Of course that was okay. I was thinking, the earlier I get this out of the way the better. Last year was an utter nightmare, first try I was shown a hole on the ground, second try I had to run nearly 1k inside a subdivision just to make it to their clubhouse and I nearly fell asleep inside. They even thought I passed out. This year there was no such problem as the crew found a very nice spot right around the 20k mark ... .. inside an Iglesia ni Cristo church. As Abby assured me that my presence there wasn't bordering on anything sacrilegious, I was successfully able to execute probably the fastest and most efficient pit stop ever. Thank you INC, I owe you guys one.

Isolation Therapy

During that break, I had lost Mark and OJ. I kept on looking back, and I asked a Team Ungas van where they were and I was given the impression they were far back. So I was all alone. Felt like I was making good time though, pace at a rock solid 7:30. Much to my consternation, it turns out that they were actually ahead of me. Finally back with my buds, it was supposed to be all smooth sailing from here. It didn't last long though. One pit stop later and the group was once again splintered. What I couldn't understand was why was it that I was the one getting ahead when I'm the weakest runner in our group by a mile. Perhaps, was I doing something wrong? Going too fast? Not even. With no sight of my, I just had to trudge on.

Me, Myself, and the Long Winding Road.

All by myself... . don't wanna be. All by myself... .. anymore.

As the bars of the seminal Celine Dion classic rang through my head, I was thinking, this wasn't how I wanted my story to unfold. It was supposed to be packed with stories of guts, glory, and the will to continue. Of camaraderie and an unspeakable bond with brothers who share the same iron-clad mindset in helping each other succeed through seemingly insurmountable odds. It would have made for great drama, the piece that would finally nail me my first Philippine Blog Award win... .. a tale of hardship, friendship, and sacrifice through... .

Wait, who am I kidding? It's just me, myself, and the road. The sheer drudgery is getting to me. It's pretty much... . mundane and er, unexciting. It's a microcosm of your typical countryside life, and it's a change passing by here during the daytime. Aside from regular contact with my crew and the occasional chit chat with other teams, it's pretty much me and a bunch of nameless faces along the road who keep getting me engaged in this incessant cycle that never gets old :

Bystander : Koya, san kayo galing?
GBM : Mariveles
Bystander : San paponta koya?
GBM : Tarlac
Bystander : !!!!!

Enter Celine Dion chorus here I think in my frustration, I was speeding along faster than I had intended to. As I was approaching the 32k mark I had already passed Frontrunner EIC/Ultra strongman Jonel and the super lolo Vic Ting group. I also saw a focused Pat Alcomendas seemingly struggling, the mere fact of which seemed to blow my mind. He prodded me to go on, was worried if any nagging injuries were manifesting. A quick check on the 310xt, 7:04 pace. Eek. Much faster than what I had intended to hold, and fearful I might gas out later. Relax. Breathe. Malayo pa to.

Manong pacing me to Tarlac. He lasted 30 seconds. Crew check The gang was pretty impeccable at this point. Abby would send me inspirational messages from time to time (hihi) and that never failed to give me a boost. AJ and Duart were on point, although Duart was like a man possessed perhaps in his haste to make up for lost time last year. AJ was mostly chilling. Tito Caloy, was , well, being Tito Caloy. His moral support is invaluable to the endeavor, let's just keep it at that. As I would learn later, Abby was garnering a certain following amongst our provincial folk with her "eye- popping" running outfit which would seem more at home within the comfy asphalt of BHS rather than the concrete jungle of the Bataan countryside. Hey, it's comfy!(rejoinder for fear of future retribution) Warning Signs As I was nearing the marathon mark I was beginning to slow down a little. Ill effects from a fast start? Five hours and a half into the whole thing, my left foot was beginning to feel sore. Also noticeable was that I kept on doing a really weird overpronation move with my left foot, for some reason it would pronate inward and the sole of the shoe would keep on hitting my right ankle. I noticed this mechanical flaw would only come out towards the latter part of anything north of a marathon. And now I'm slowly flagellating my right ankle. Fun.Rule of Thirds Amidst the madness, I decided to divide the race into three parts to keep my head in there - 0 -50, 50 - 102, 102- 160. Within each division I would chomp them up into bite-size and easily digestible 10k portions. That way you don't lose yourself mentally, it's easy to get overwhelmed and deflated when there is too much emphasis on the big picture. I have seen many of my comrades fall by the wayside when this kicks in, and all of us are susceptible at any given moment. As I was doing my mental calculations, the man who had taught me these valuable lessons just caught up with me. It was Jonel! Finally, company! Part-mentor/Frontrunner slave driver, he was coming on strong and as we approached the 50k stretch in Abucay the conversations we had invigorated me. I reminded him that I still owed him breakfast for losing a bet with him on Condura ( I had a lame 4:14, he dropped a 3:47... . after doing a test run. Incredible.) We run into Robocop Gilbert Gray, who must have been bored with our pace and left us soon after. He would eventually finish 10th in a steady, methodical, um, serious performance. We reach the 50k mark around six and a half hours in, BR and Mrs. BR were there to greet us. As we would later on discover, we were both in the top 20 at this point. So far so good. I take the opportunity to stretch out and sit down a little, I actually arrived ahead of my crew. Learning from last year's lessons, I didn't spend too much time here, heck didn't even wait for a costume change. Jonel had an even faster T1 (if you would consider it as such tri-geeks) and was already ahead of me by several minutes. "Just" 110k to go, it should get interesting from here. An Accidental Bromance Back to my lonesome. I don't if growing up alone is a key factor to some deep psychological crap inside of me, but I hate being alone. I hate eating alone, I hate going to the mall alone. Ironically, although I usually train alone I'm not exactly thrilled about it. So sue me, social being here. So once again, it's driving me nuts that I'm by my lonesome. At this point, Jonel was long gone already and was too strong to chase down given I'm going through the motions of a swoon already. So back to the drudgery. My left foot is starting to bother me already and it's starting to get hot already. Many have lost their way on this national highway, and I had no intention of succumbing in my solitude. That's until I notice a semi-familiar face going back and forth with me. Semi-familiar because I knew that dude was Paolo Osmena, a veteran who is no doubt exponentially stronger than me. Someone also said he had the legs of a female supermodel. Of course, I deny all allegations that this came from me. Anyway, for what seemed like a 15k stretch we would settle into this bizarre pattern where I would surge ahead of him after running 1.5k straight, then once I rest with the crew he would come surging back and establish a big lead then the cycle replicates itself. While I felt I was pacing better than him as it seemed he was in some sort of pain, his advantage was he would only stop every 5k. Does that mean I'm a Gingerbread sissy for stopping as often as I did? Probably. Soft-baked mush. But at this point, at the back of my head I was trying to conserve as much as I could, long ways to go. Eventually, this seemingly "cold war" was driving me crazy. I ran up to him ( he was favoring the opposite side of the road) and struck up a conversation. And he turned out to be a very affable albeit tired fellow. His plantar was killing him, but more than anything he was questioning why was he feeling a notch short on probably his most important racing day of the year. He felt he had more than trained for this, so many long runs and hours put in, and yet here he was feeling exhausted less than halfway through. In retrospect, this same malaise may have struck a lot of my fallen comrades. But then again, we'll never really know. Every runner out there has their own unique story, and the entire gamut of emotions that are transmuted into one ethereal body of work make this journey unlike any other.I tried to boost my newfound friend's flagging spirits by telling him that even if we were feeling horrible now, we were still well-entrenched in the top half of the draw. And as much as we felt that we were sucking, those who are still behind us must be sucking too. Of course, that wasn't necessarily true, but I had to say something. He was asking if we walked from that point to the 160 line, would we make it? Perhaps, maybe. But we have to make it to 102 first. Obviously, we wouldn't if we did. But it takes an ultrarunner to know anothers suffering, and at that point you do what you could to help them go forward. On a downward spiral Somewhere nearing KM 70, I was really beginning to feel exhausted. Nearly nine hours in, I was slowly tapering off. Either I left my newfound buddy somewhere or he left me, but I just lost him at a certain point. I was really slowing down and my pace had plummeted to 8:30 cumulative. After what seemed like ages, finally I saw glimpses of different souls. Which was great. And they were passing me left and right. Which wasn't. OJ came out of the woodwork after what seemed like an eternity and was still dropping 7:30 pace effortlessly. I tried latching on but I was already slowly fizzling out. Don Ubaldo was making a rally from behind, he soon passed me as well. And buddy Mark passed me as well, looking fresh as ever. So this is all it would come down to. Just as with all my races, just as with my marathons. A very promising start only to choke at the end. It's a recurring theme, a recurring problem. Maybe ... maybe there's something wrong with what I'm doing. Maybe the problem is... . me. There is no greater dagger to one self-confidence than when one is getting passed left and right by your fresh-looking colleagues. It exacerbates a malignant notion slinking in the shadows. While racing the biggest race of one's career, the last thing you would want to happen is for self-doubt to creep in. Extraordinary circumstances call for an extraordinary effort, and no way are you going to pull that off without a certain modicum of self-belief. But isn't that what ultra running is all about? When both the will and the body have been broken, do you have enough to bring you home to that line?I want to puke. I'm dizzy. Maybe I was just being too brash. Who was I anyway, thinking I could just step in here and do a 100 miler without any serious long run training?These guys have been training for a year now. I didn't belong here. I knew I was in decent shape but I guess that just wasn't enough. I'm in pain, everything is painful. Maybe I should quit now and just suck it up later. Oh great Argow just passed me again. He does that every year around these parts. He's very strong. I wanna puke again. This was a big mistake. Where's Tito Lito Lapid? Maybe I could start to rally here just as I did last year. Finally, the crew is here. Maybe I can show them that I am still strong, get something good energy going. Good thing I have shades on. They can't see a defeated man's eyes.

Put up or Shut up From KM 70 onwards I was a dead man walking already. Abby was getting increasingly agitated and worried. My left foot was bothering me severely and I could barely move without significant pain. The crew was taking turns massaging and spraying, and ice cubes on my face seemed to help. I had to stop every kilometer, and finally we just changed my fancy Adidas socks into less fancy Adidas socks which were much more laspag and looser.

Which at that point I felt was what I needed. I had lost a lot of ground and this was all really getting to me. The competitive nut in me had wanted to do well in this race, showing everybody "it could be done" on a cross-train base. I had a chip on my shoulder if you would call it that. However, at this point that chip could have been easily mistaken for a heavy cross, as I was in heavy suffering.More stops. More pain.

Tirik mode. At that monent, I could never put a premium on the value of having an experienced ultrarunner like Abby on my crew. Her relentless approach last year worked wonders, and left my whiny self eating her dust. While everyone was sort of freaking out at my disheveled state, she was resolute in whispering to me "Tiis lang babe. Not too many breaks. You can do this. Just keep on moving forward, sayang time. I took solace in that and soldiered on. If I couldn't be strong, at least someone was being strong for me. And I could feed off that. And the journey continues... . Of Pain and Detours As my slowly deteriorating carcass was slowly marching through the dusty Pampanga highway, without a doubt I was a broken man both mentally and physically. I had a losers mentality and was already looking for reasons to quit. Km 80 could have been a world away and i wouldn't have known the difference. My pace had plummeted, my strategy out of sorts. What had started out as a promising race was going down the drain on account of a left foot that was swelling ridiculously. Each attempt at running was rewarded with pain, pain, and more pain. Masakit na. Ayaw na. What exacerbated things was that the crew took a left somewhere, ostensibly for a 1k detour. That 1k detour turned out to be 3.5k of hell without a support crew. No drinks,no nothing. Much to my consternation, turns out they could have just gone straight and ignored it, all the rest of the support cars were there. I was down and out. Suddenly, nightfall was approaching. How could I even dream of hitting 160k when I'm running on nonexistent fumes here? As I finally catch the crew after nearly four kilometers of non-existent support, it seemed like the end of the line for me. Battered, exhausted, I sat down somewhere near KM 80 and nearly collapsed while sitting down. Abby was very concerned already. She kept on muttering Just keep moving forward babe, you can do this. I believe in you. AJ and Duart were searching for inspirational quotes from their bag of tricks as well.Somewhere, seeing such a concerted effort from my team ignited a long recessive notion from within. In my frustration, I suddenly came to the realization - why the heck am I acting like such a sissy? I had already done this before! I'm a vet for crying out loud. Let's get this done! My swagger, which had somehow taken an inopportune time to take a VL, came back just in the nick of time. With renewed vigor, my head back on the right frequency, I went back out there with that predator's mindset that had been sorely missing for several hours now. Pain is just a word One slight problem. Energized as I was, the pain was slowly bordering on "enough to make me yelp" proportions. My form must have been god-awful. Anyway, I kept on whining like some lame greenhorn until I sort of just got fed up with myself. This was a war, and if I was going down I'd do so on my shield. In a journey not wanting of inspiration, there are some times that you just had to get the job done yourself. If some other people along the way saw me angrily muttering to myself, here's the inside scoop on what that was going on. Wimpy GBM : Ouch. Aray. Ang sakit na talaga. DNF na tayo koya, uwi na tayo please? BDM Vet Hard Core GBM : Ano ka ba?! Sali sali ka dito tapos aangal angal ka jan? Bwiset! Wimpy : Waaaah but it hurts so baaaad and I'm soooooo tired =,( Hard Core : You joined this stupid, the pain is to be expected. Duh! Do you seriously expect to run this long with no pain? You have got to be kidding me! Suck it up chump! You a tough guy or a wimp? Wimpy : Sungit mo naman... .. Not that I've degenerated into schizoprenia, but I needed to kick it up a notch if I had any intention of getting through this. I entered Km 80 a man possessed, suddenly I was hitting 8:00 pace with ease. The foot was extremely bothersome, but my mind and psyche were clear. Just keep moving forward. Dammit man. Get it together. Fighting for the fallen I had hit upon a fantastic formula that worked wonders for me and allowed both for enough rest and enough traction towards the goal. The support car would be there every 1k, so what I would do was that I would run for 1k, rest or sit down for a bit once I reached the car , walk 300 meters then run the next 700. It worked so well that it seemed that I could sustain for extended periods. Somewhere around the mid-80's I was shocked to see Bea and Dan around the route. But... . Mark was so far ahead of me right? She told me he had fallen behind a little to rest. As I probed what happened, I was told he was just tired, that's all. Ah, the typical swoon. But we all go through it and he would no doubt bounce back from it. I told Bea that I would be waiting up for him, a reprise of last year's end-game partnership seemingly forthcoming. My sudden resurgence suddenly catapulted me back into the thick of things. I ran into Singaporean ultra runner Kelly Lim, who told me she didn't know the way and was lacking in supplies, apparently her support crew was way behind. I instructed the gang to give her whatever she needed. I told her she could hang with me if she wanted, but her pace seemed way too strong for my injured left foot and methodical strategy.She thanked me and went on her way. The curious thing about the entire exchange was when she told me she was measuring her pace in steps. Not sure if that's a culture-specific thing, but I found it to be quite the novel approach. In the dark recesses of the land where tocino and sisig are king, the pain was considerable but I was sticking to my 700-300 run walk strat. Eerie headlamps defined shadowy figures identifiable only by their reflectorized vests, as we traversed a Kapampangan neighborhood that seemed to be comfortable in blithely ignoring us.Still, every time I would see a runner closing in I would ease up and check if it was Mark doing one of his trademark comebacks. Alas, it was another unfamiliar face marauding in the darkness. Where the heck was he? The crew was surprised at what seemed like a strong second wind from me, as I was arriving faster at our stops than what was previously trending. As I approached KM 90 in that tricky poblacion area that drove us nuts last year, turns out they were buying dinner at Jollibee and only AJ was left in the van. Before I could even ask him what our foodies were, he let go of a grim, tersely worded statement that rocked me to the core. Nag DNF na daw si Mark ... .. I couldn't believe it. Nearly 14 hours in, emotions were running high already. I was crestfallen, heartbroken. Like I could feel his pain myself. It was as if the enemy had successfully shot down one of my own. My lips quivered. This was my buddy, we had willed each other to the line last year. AJ even massaged him towards the end (he never let me forget). We were supposed to replicate that success this year. We've been in many wars together carrying the TPB bannerall season long and he was in phenomenal shape. He had trained so hard for this, as well as anyone I knew. I was at a loss for words at how that could have happened, more so that I knew how much he would fight to keep a DNF off his record. I was beside myself, I felt I let a friend down. Maybe if I were there I could have implored him to go on, helped him out bit by bit till he regained his senses and strength. Suddenly, sadness turned to worry. It had to be really serious for him to stop at that point. I implored AJ to give me more details, he didn't know either. Mark dropping out put a quick check on my own mortality. Reports would later come in that more and more friends were falling by the wayside. In my exhausted, sleep-deprived state, the pull of our close-knit fraternity dropping like flies emboldened me to push on. If there were an ultrarunning version of that scene in 300 where the captain goes berserk after his son gets decapitated, this was probably it. I hit 7:30 on my 310xt for a kilometer split at a time when the cumulative average was already around 8:40.

Nooooooooooooooo I had to go on. For Mark, for everyone who had their dreams dashed by fate's cruel, unfeeling turn. It could have been me, could have been anyone. But I'm still around for a reason. This is for them. I have to take it home for them. Now let's get it done.

Let's do it for them. Just Get It To 102 At this point last year, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Just a wee bit more. I wrote : The pain in my left knee grew in intensity with each pause. My crew was pulling out all the stops to ensure that I made it. The pain was incredible. But to quit this near, after all that you've been through? No way in hell. If you told me that I had to roll down the road just to finish, I would have.
This year, while I was presumably in better shape I was already slowing down significantly as I went past KM90. The adrenalin from my rallying cry around the plethora of DNF's had faded and the exhaustion was creeping in. As I marched on into the night, I was reminded on just how ludicrous the entire enterprise was in running the equivalent of nearly four marathons in 30 straight hours. Last year I barely made it in one piece to the line. This time around not only do I have to clear 102 kilometers, I have to run all the way to another province just to finish, 58 long kilometers away. Seriously. Who in the right mind would do this? I was dwarfed by the magnitude of the task at hand. As I was going through another late swoon, Wency, Chito and a couple of other warriors caught up with me. With differing run/walk patterns, we would alternate bursts of small talk along with taking the lead. I was weakening at this point, and I felt all alone . Mentally, making it to 102 meant the safe haven of a warm meal and the prospect of resting for more than the couple of seconds I had been giving myself for practically the entire journey.I kept on muttering just get it to 102, all will be well after. With pacers allowed 102 onwards, I was counting heavily on Abby, AJ and Duart to get me through in one piece. Before I could get there though, two pairs of shiny eyes suddenly hit my lamp. Dogs. Wild Dogs. Before I could even react, these uncuddly canines were chasing after me like I was a steak on two legs. At this point, this is truly the last thing you need. I just froze and walked calmly as their agitated, bloodthirsty growls resonated along the grim highway.Lucky.

Bad Doggie.As I allowed my blood pressure to settle down a few notches, I just realized that I still remembered quite distinctly each nuance this final stretch had to offer..I remember everything - my shuffling gait, the left to the eskinita, the cheers, the hug from BR. Everything is all still so vivid. Even amidst being embroiled in all this physical suffering, the reassurance of being in somewhat familiar conditions was invaluable. Soon, we would be leaving the comfort of these toiling grounds for a stab at the twilight zone. I check my watch. I actually have a shot at a 102 PR. In what was probably not the smartest move to do at that point , I yearned for a strong entry into KM102 so I "tempo ran" that final kilometer going as low as 7:00. At I approached the famous eskinita Abby, AJ and Duart were there to ensure I didn't get lost. I ran strong into the train station sixteen hours and 30 minutes after I had began to a cacophony of cheers from the remaining crowd, an hour erased from last year's finish. 102 kms done. 58 to go. Last year, this was the scene of our greatest triumph. Now, it is where we begin our greatest battle... .

A sight for sore eyes at KM102

Just like the good ol' days Prelude To The Pain Finally, some semblance of "real" rest! I had worked long and hard for this so I would savor each second of it.I took off my shoes, got to stretch amd lie down for a bit, wolfed down a Burger Machine "double longga burger" for good measure. I heard some of the other warriors took a quick snooze as well. The 310xt got a fresh charge on Endure Multisport buddy/creative whiz Gerard Cinco's (of dimsumandsiomai fame) car charger. He was also kind enough to lend me his Garmin 405 to bridge the gap. Eternal thanks bro!

We put Salonpas on the throbbing upper arch of my bothersome left foot, some on the calves. Otherwise, I was okay. Or so I thought. Coming in at around 16:30ish, I decided to burn 30 minutes to simulate a 17 hour split , which more or less gives me 13 hours to complete that final 58k. I had fulfilled my short-term goal to bridge it to my pacers while keeping my sanity. Now the real challenge begins.

First up was AJ, my de facto crew chief from my BDM 102 campaign and eternal buddy. The plan was for him to cover anywhere from 5-10 kilometers while buying Abby some valuable shut-eye before she came on.. While not exactly a regular running denizen, AJ was a former UAAP Volleyball MVP and could count on his natural athleticism to take over should push come to shove. He was hyped up and raring to go as a strange new world awaited us out there.

BDM Card #2 right here.But before anything else, a couple of hiccups. First, for some incomprehensible reason I couldn't get my laces to stick.Perhaps the tender left foot had something to do with it as I was being OC with the tightness , but it took us at least five minutes to get the whole thing right. Talk about a momentum killer. Second - just get the heck out of the train station. Fast. We had traversed all around it, amidst what seemed like an abandoned rice paddy. A dog came right out and threatened to attack us. We were warned about the dogs, but seriously this was ridiculously way too early in the ball game. Much like the guardian pacer he was, Hasa bravely shooed the rabid dog away with his "shout and make gulat the doggie move". He would later confess that his cajones were being seriously compromised already, but he had to at least "pretend" to be strong in my severely weakened state. Thank God it worked. We finally were able to navigate our way around the labyrinthine area... only to wind up about 100 meters from where we had started. We could even see Sir Rene and Camilla Brooks from where we were. They probably thought we were messing around. Sheesh.

Apparently, it wasn't as simple as we thought.Crash Into Me We had wasted an inordinate amount of time just getting out into the main road, and I was deathly paranoid of getting lost at such a crucial juncture. My absence at that crucial, final test run was now coming back to haunt me. On the way to Macarthur Highway, I had AJ ask practically every manong if they saw runners along the route. Even if the answer was always in the affirmative, the eerie absence of support cars was agitating me. After asking like thrice, Hasa was like Ano, satisfied na? I probably muttered something unintelligible as a reply.

I tried to get on with the 700-300 formula that had worked so well for me, but after a solitary kilometer I felt sick. I was crashing. Hard. Again. Could the strong push leading to 102 drained my last reserves? I was hitting more than 17 hours of the road already. I guess the relative unfamiliarity of the terrain all added to this notion brewing in my head . Once I hit 103k , I was in no man's land. Pessimistic realities were beginning to form in my head. Damn, ang layo pa. Wala na akong ibibigay pa. I implored AJ that all I could do was walk first. All of a sudden, it seemed like I was in a daze. Parang high. To make matters worse, our support van was nowhere in sight. Apparently, Tito Caloy went freestyling on the route and insisted on the "Macarthur Highway" route that he knew... . which was going to Bulacan. Apparently, I wasn't the only one bonking. Try as I could, the legs were not responding. I was doing the tukod move at a higher ratio than at any point in the race. I almost even fell into AJ at one point. We were barely moving. Once again, fears of a late game choke were getting to me.Good thing that this was an all-too-familiar sight for my friend, having seen me buck injury and dehydration during the previous campaign. He still had his mental notebook full of pre-memorized inspirational quotes, but he didn't pull a single one. The one he did drop though, was probably the one that mattered the most. Kung sa akin nga lang pap, kung kaya lang kitang samahan ng 50k gagawin ko. A poignant moment in a journey made possible not by one man's singular effort, but by the collective sacrifices of those who share a single-minded determination to tow him to that finish line. Infused by a sudden stream of positive energy, it was just the thing I needed. Habol ng Habol Big steps lang. I tried running but gave up seeing that my "run" and AJ's walk were roughly around the same pace. So what's the point. Our progress was miserably slow. After close to an hour, me and AJ had only covered four ridiculous kilometers using this tactic and time was slowly ticking away. I was trying to get myself together by convincing myself that this hour long walk would serve as the much needed "rest" to help me once Abby came on. In pretty bad shape though. Ironically, AJ was somehow relieved when Duart offered to take over pacer duties. Apparently his surgically repaired knee was acting up, a heroic effort for a friend in need. Too bad I was too preoccupied battling my inner demons to fully appreciate it at the time

Hasa gutting it out after 5k

Duart raring to step up to the plate Once Duart had donned the official pacer's bib, we were off. He was jacked and amped up, perhaps a little too much for me in my rapidly diminished state. Given the horrid start to this final leg of our journey, we somehow had to make up for lost time. Around 19 hours in, I was fading badly and I sore in too many places than I could describe. My buddy, who was always the smartest guy in our class a decade ago, was hellbent on helping in any way he could. Some useless trivia : He once missed AJ's UAAP championship game, and was so disconsolate about it that he attended every single game the following season. Now that's what you call friendship! I am lucky to have him on my team.

He was listening to my instructions as much as he could while dropping the occasional motivational line, and we were making some semblance of progress. Pap, mental lang yan. Bumibigay na ang katawan pero it's all mental. Not sure if I got it verbatim but that's pretty much what I could remember.We had another mad dog episode, and he was brutally honest in telling me he wasn't exactly too thrilled with them wild doggies. A noble effort from my bud to keep me in there, but it was clearly bothering him. In short, at this point where my brain had pretty much short-circuited, I scarcely had any energy to to help him out against any anxiety as much as I wanted to. I needed to be carried, not the other way around. Another point of concern was when he told me he suddenly became dizzy, no doubt a byproduct of the sudden stress put upon his sleep-starved system. As much as Duart was shrugging it off, a glance on my watch was telling me we weren't trending well.

If only them Tarlac doggies were this cute
At this rate, once Abby came on we might be too far behind already. But Duart still had 5k to go, and he seemed quite enthused with it. As much as I wanted to have my bud finish his full leg, the reality was that I needed Abby in there both for the physical and emotional boost, and I didn't think I could hang on for 5k more.As rhythmically disjointed as our current little sortie was, I was hanging on to the hope that once she came on, everything would fall back into place. I labored heavily with each run, my pain-wracked body slowly being battered into submission. At only 115k in, we were nearly 20 hours out there. 10 hours for 45k? In this state? I pushed the panic button and told good buddy Duart we had to cut short his stint. Always the proud warrior (he's already planning his own BDM 102 stint for next year. AJ is his support crew chief which rocks, problem is AJ doesn't know yet.), he seemed visibly bothered that I had cut his stint short. I scarcely had the energy to explain things, just muttered that it was all about "strategy"whatever that meant amidst his half-serious protestations. Once Abby saw her number called, she shifted to work mode instantaneously and snapped on the bib and my hydrobelt with baon gels. With one of the best ultrarunning pedigrees amongst all the pacers, she's a tremendous boon to my campaign. In the middle of the night, in some unknown highway, we had some serious catching up to do. Both literally and figuratively.

Super Abby to save the day
Longest. Date. Ever. As we ventured into the great unknown, the "reserves" that I was storing during AJ and Duart's combined 10k stint somehow helped. The more I realized that we were running into Angeles City (yes, Angeles City. And yes, I started in Bataan, 20 hours ago.), all the more that the enormity of the entire experience was getting to my head. Each step was heavier, every breath more labored than ever. We started out strong thanks to Abby pushing the pace, but alas I couldn't ride out the heavy fade. My mind was starting to play tricks with me already. If there was such a thing as a "running pseudo lucid dream", I was probably doing it already. It felt like my brain was kicking into " dream mode" - while I was still running. Seemed like a bizarro mix of both a dream and a hallucination at the same time, and the line between fantasy and reality was severely blurred at this point. No idea if I was dreaming or not anymore.

Sabaw I regain a semblance of reality to the faint sobs of my worried girlfriend, who had been rock steady and strong the entire time. Apparently, I was already lying down the concrete pavement at some Angeles City bridge, my submission to mortality compounded by a suddenly biting wind. She was at a loss for words, the complexity of being a pacer tasked to bring you to the line intersecting with that of a petrified loved one. Diliryo. Yes, that's what they call it. I want to quit already. So many people have fought the good fight and called it a day already. Maybe I should do the same. ...

An emotional turning point... . A Walk On The Dark Side Somehow, Abby's resolute pleadings got me back on my feet again. However, as we plodded our way to Tarlac it was becoming harder and harder with no relief in site. The thermostat suddenly dropped out of nowhere and I started to shiver uncontrollably, to the point that my chest began to hurt already. I was forced to wear the only warm thing available - Tito Caloy' frumpy windbreaker. As much as this was the last place where you could be judged for a fashion faux pas, I took it off the moment I got warmer. Smirk. At this point I could only run for about 200 or so meters before stumbling around the dark, dusty abyss en route to Tarlac. It was a painful, arduous process. I would beg for a chance to sit down. Abby was adamant. Sayang time. Kaya pa yan. What a whiner. So many of our fellow warriors had passed us already, some I haven't seen since the start of the race. Gosh, I must have lost so much time already. Two enigmatic, shadowy figures emerge from the woodwork, plodding ninjas who had seemingly lost their way. Turns out it was the veteran ultra duo of George Dolores and Ralph Salvador, battle tested warriors who were likewise succumbing to their demons within. Aabot pa ba tayo? Di na namin gagawin to uli, kalokohan to! Seeing two proud veterans fighting their demons to the very end seemed to embolden me. If they are still in this... . no reason I shouldn't be. You know how they say that in a marathon your second wind kicks in just when you need it the most? I had used mine hours ago. That third and fourth? A distant memory. I'm running on empty here as we were approaching the 130k mark. A quick glance at the trusty 310xt. Not good. Not good at all. At this rate, there would be no way would be finishing within cutoff. I felt my dreams slowly fading, dissipating before my tired, weary eyes. The body had given up, the pain too immense. My spirit a meek spectator to the entire spectacle. Abby was slowly getting exhausted trying to coax something out of me, to no avail. But inside of me, a different storm was brewing. So that's it?This is how it's all going to end Luis? You just plain gave up? You bothered so many people, spent so much money, put yourself through this much pain, only to fail at the end? Think of how the Facebook statuses would come out tomorrow, how people would be sympathetic to your stupid excuses. Keep this crap up, and you will fail. Are you content with the whole "just making it to the start line is a victory" crap? You came here with a specific goal in mind. You want that buckle right? You want the cynics to shut the hell up right?? Are you going to quit on Abby? On Hasa and Duart after everything that they have done for you? On the five people who will read your story on your crappy blog? What a damn lousy story that would be. More than anything, do it for yourself. Do you want to be remembered as a quitter forever?

On life support and needing a miracle Desperate times call for desperate measures. When all else was failing, I swung for the fences with nothing left to lose. How? Simple, really. I pissed myself off. Yes, you read that right. I was trying my darn best to piss myself off. Before my brain decided to shut itself down completely, I had this bright idea that the only way to save my race was for my adrenalin to go into overdrive. It's the fight or flight paradigm at play, and I gave it one final heave. If this failed, there was nothing more I could do but accept that maybe this wasn't really meant for me. It's a sober reality that I would probably deal with for the rest of my life. Everything was hinging on this. I couldn't fail. I REFUSE to fail. Luis : NO!!! I CAN'T LOSE! I PUT TOO FREAKING MUCH INTO THIS!! QUIT?? NOW?? YOU GOT TO BE !@#$ KIDDING ME!! LET'S GO!! Abby : ???!!!!
The result was nothing short of spectacular, For one completely inspired, ethereal stretch, everything just clicked. The adrenalin was overflowing. All the pain disappeared., not a trace. I was running like I just started on one of them BHS races. Abby was shocked out of her wits, but kept pace as much as she could. We were passing the others at will, and it was just an incredible turn of events. At a time when we were covering about 4 kilometers an hour tops at around 15:00 min/km pace, we zoomed to an unfathomable (given the circumstances) 5:50 min/km pace. Even I myself was shocked. In plain and simple terms, we had earned back that extra hour that we had lost earlier with the effort.

And in one fell swoop, we were back in the game.

Cruise Control

We had to slow down eventually and fall back into a run/walk pattern as it was Abby's turn to bonk. The sudden speedwork zapped her, and our support car was nowhere to be found. AJ and Duart were plotting our trends in between naps, and they had missed out on the sudden surge. They were at least 5 kilometers away and couldn't seem to find us in their best Keystone Cops routine. Abby was running out of water and Gato as the sudden anaerobic spurt was getting the best of her. With the national engineering boundary for Tarlac in sight, it was somewhat my turn to keep her in there. Eventually the groggy gang caught up, likewise shocked at the little stunt we pulled off.

The adrenalin had worn off and everything was starting to hurt again, but at least Abby was better. As we soldiered on into the wee hours of the new day, we were comfortably settling into a pattern that we had first used when I paced her for the original Rizal Day 32k. It entailed choosing targets from within the prevailing landscape and run to that with no excuses. Let's run to the green house. Waiting shed. 2nd big telephone pole. From this point forth every second counted, each second running providing us a bigger buffer for what promises to be an explosive endgame.

Twenty Four Oras

Set a target. Run.Walk. Rest. As we were nearing the 24 hour mark entering the Tarlac capitol, I was fighting with everything I had. I could scarcely believe that I was still here - alive, standing, running and with a real shot at taking this home. Good vibes. Even the boys were egging me on. Let's do this pap. Let's take this home.

Hitting the 24 hour mark was a poignant, goosebump inducing- milestone. But it wasn't over. Not just yet.

Daytime Shocker

Shocking, because I was still here. Because Abby was approaching 30k pacing me with nary a sign of fatigue. But the single most shocking, absolutely mind-blowing thing that jolted our senses was seeing a crumpled, hobbling figure on the other side of the road. It was Tatay Jonel. I last saw him just after the 50k mark and had figured he had finished hours before.. He looked deathly pale, and our attempts to ask what was wrong were met with some semi-lucid hand gestures, presumably gesturing us to go ahead. Another dagger straight into our hearts. .If I were Daniel- san, he was Master Miyagi. If this were a war, that was our general right there. And right now our general was telling me to leave him and let him be. Reluctantly, we had to pass him, taking painful solace in the thought that this was his battle to face, his mountain to conquer. Just a bit more, and glory would be his.

Hopefully, it would all be ours.

100% Pure Guts

Digging Deep

The sun was starting to beat down and the pain on my left foot was off the charts. Any form of movement would generate a certain level of pain that seemingly only a shot of morphine could negate. Nevertheless, the excitement was building, and we were trending well as we were entering the 140k mark. I could sense it in Abby's voice. We got this babe!! Just a bit more!

Meanwhile, the crew was on chillax mode. A supremely confident AJ was already looking at breakfast plans while Duart was doing a little premature celebrating

Breakfast, anyone?
Wrong Mistake

I was trying to amp up every step as we were hitting the right turn that was supposed to lead us to the Capas National Shrine. Pain was mortifyingly bad, I've run out of adjectives to describe it. If my Garmin was correct, we just had 13 more kilometers to go to glory. You know how towards the latter part of a marathon, say around 40-41k, you just attempt to block out everything in an attempt at a strong finish? I was trying to pull off the same thing here. In my head, we got this, let's get it over with. As we reached the crossroad, me and Abby ran into Coach Rey Antoque for the final pangtali which serves as your time stamp (they have a knack for just appearing out of nowhere). I asked him how much further, 12k na lang daw. But my strategy was thrown into disarray when veteran ultra dude Ron Sulapas, still very much in the game, told us it was more like 18k out. 18k?? You have got to be kidding me. Coach just said 12k! Abby was getting pissed off because we couldn't seem to get a clear picture of much further we were going. Even AJ and Duart weren't quite sure. Thankfully, Doc Art somehow managed to catch up with us, and he seemed to know the way. Amidst the last-minute chaos, a glanced at my watch. If it were 18k more... .

I need to start running. Now.

Malayong malayo pa Kuya... .

It's getting to be hot. Really hot. Once again, the lack of a test run couldn't have been more evident as we entered the busy, winding streets going to the shrine. For someone who had made it to to this point relying heavily on pace, distance and time projections... . now I didn't have the slightest damn idea where we were going. Or how far we were. Abby was starting to look a little bit wasted, but was tremendously effective as a drillmaster/inspirational leader. The pain, oh God I don't want to think about the pain anymore. I knew that they were all blistered up, but at this point that was the last thing on my mind. Just wanted this over and done with. I tried asking a tricycle dude how far off we were from the shrine, and was met with an incredulous reply that serves as the header of this paragraph. Digging into what seemed to be my 7th wind already, I was spilling my blood and guts onto that pavement already. Malayo pa ba... ..

Panandaliang Ligaya

AJ and Duart were scrambling to get distance projections and to give nearly per kilometer support for us. This was the final stretch. Winning time baby. I had gone through so many up and down cycles that I had lost track already. The term "threshold of pain" has been redefined several times already that I may just end up giving it an altogether different meaning after the whole thing. Quite truly, it takes a different animal to tame this distance. I would whine incessantly, the lack of a clear goal bothering me. AJ kept on trying to explain the projections but nothing was entering my brain. Both me and Abby were at the mercy of the elements, and
right now it wasn't showing that much.

After what seemed like an eternity of pain, the gates of the Capas National Shrine beckoned. Me and Abby were going nuts, the joy was impossible to contain. She kept on telling me that she was proud of me. But wait, there was a catch. To successfully complete the distance, we had to do an extra loop past the monument and back to do a full 100-miler. We were all told of this beforehand. Problem with me was, in my semi-delirious state we thought it was pretty near. I could swear that someone said 5k na lang! Malapit na!

Rule #1 : Don't listen to strangers.

Rule #2 : Never, EVER take "malapit na" at face value.

Rule #3 : " 5k" is relative .

The Final Showdown

Pain. Suffering. Guts. Determination. It's been such an emotional rollercoaster for us and I couldn't stop thanking Abby for willing me to this point. We got news that there have been only been less than twenty finishers, maybe I could even crack the top 20. So all we need to do is cruise, relax, game over. We couldn't have been more mistaken about the entire thing. You know that feeling when you know the race is over and your levels start to normalize? Then all the aches and pains come in? Of course it's normal.

My problem was, it happened to me just a couple of kilometers early.

AJ and Duart were intentionally withholding it at that time, but they knew that the full route was a 4.5 killer uphill and back to cover the missing 9k from the original 151k historic route. Our first inkling was when we saw TPB icon Junrox Roque looking spent, probably the first time I ever saw him him in that state. Argow, OJ, Kelly Lim, I haven't seen them in hours and yet there they were on the homeward journey. Two things. Either they had all slowed down like crazy... . or that final stretch was so far out and difficult that it took them forever to get back. I wasn't about to put my money on the former.

That last 4.5k uphill stretch ranks as probably the greatest physical and mental challenge I have ever faced. After 150 kilometers of running over nearly 27 hours , an extended uphill stretch is the last thing you would ever want to see at that point. Everything was sinking in, my system rejecting everything. I was puking out the gels, and even Gatorade was nauseating. The heat was simply unbearable. I wanted to collapse. Every labored step would elicit a pained yelp from me. If I were to capture a microcosm of the suffering and sacrifice of the actual Death March, I was going through it right there. Abby was compelling me to move forward, but she was in tears as she could see, feel my suffering so near the goal.

My body and mind have both shut down. I have squeezed every last ounce of humanly strength that I could. There is... . nothing more. To the last drop. The uphill climb seems to be endless with no relief in sight. Going up the hill with my eyes closed, I nearly fall over Abby. My battered soul lets a blood curdling yell, a final testament to the flawed limits of human physical endurance. Truly, why did I ever subject myself to this anyway? When will it ever end?

Alas, I refuse to be denied. This is it. This is my moment. When all is gone, the spirit will always remain. I am running on utter fumes and Abby is willing me to that line. Because as one would realize when doing ultramarathons, , this " war" that I've been harping about since the very beginning is not fought on a battlefield with guns or soldiers or generals. It is fought in the inner recesses of your own mind. Drawn out into the outer fringes of your own heart. YOU are your greatest enemy... .. and greatest ally at the same time. It is a dichotomy that has no equal, accessible only to the chosen few who dare tread that fine line.

Suck it up. Pain is temporary. Glory is forever.

Everything is just a blur now, unraveling in my head as some high- definition, stop-motion slideshow. That final agony of running downhill. Running into Cebu ultragal Haide Acuna who was going strong as she entered her own final battle. Entering the monument while running at full speed, tears streaming down our cheeks as the magnitude of an accomplishment that couldn't have been farther from reality was slowly sinking in. The unbridled, once-in-a-lifetime joy of finally crossing a finish line 29 hours and 30 minutes after I had left its counterpart a hundred miles away. Hugs from the man who gave me a chance to show my mettle when very few believed I could do it. Hugs from a crew who didn't have to do it, but did anyway for the sake of a friendship that has stood the test of time. Hugs from the best girlfriend in the universe, who gave so much of herself to the endeavor and whose unshakable, iron-clad belief in my ability when even I myself had lost faith proved to be the winning quotient.

I said it once, I'll say it again - BDM is not for the faint of heart. But for those who dare, it will provide that introspective journey that life in general is largely bereft of . It affects you. It changes your emotional blueprint, and shakes the very foundations of your self-belief at its most visceral level. It's a life's experience's life experience, providing you with tall tales of glory and determination meant to be passed down from this generation to the next.

To those who are wondering if I will ever subject myself to the same, er, unique experience in the future, the answer is a big resounding NO. Never. Never ever.

But then again, wasn't that the exact same thing I said last year?

T he runners were all hyped up and ready to go, the excitement and anticipation of months of training reaching fever pitch. As the organizers counted down the seconds, you could feel the palpable tension amidst the..

81 runners. How many will make it?

Wait.

We're getting ahead of ourselves.

There's always a story behind the story. And isn't that the interesting part?

Prologue

Gingerbreadman with Gingerbread Driver, 4 pm Saturday.

GBM: Let's go to Libis, I need to buy a blinker from a bike shop.GBD: Okie ser! You go biking biking?GBM: Nope not biking, the blinker was just required for my race, it's at 1 am later.GBD: Ah! So you go biking biking at 1am? Dat is so eeshcary!GBM: We're not going biking, it's a run.GBD: Yes ser, biking run!GBM: No, I mean, running, two feet.GBD: Ah! JAGGING! Wow ish so erly por jagging ser!
GBM: Quite a long jog indeed, about 50k .GBD: WAW! R U SERYOS SER??GBM: GBD, Magtagalog na lang tayo... GBD: Hay salamat ser! kamao pala kayo mag Tagalog!GBM: Teka, iba na un ah... .

Sleeplessly Anticipating

"Excitement" would be an understatement as I counted down the seconds, minutes, and hours before the single greatest challenge of my relatively nascent running career. During the time I was supposed to be sleeping, I was frozen in a zombie-like state. Everything seemed to be moving in freeze frame. I was glued to my laptop, the Takbo.ph shoutbox a looming rhapsody in motion, all but frozen in time. I was bored. Antsy. Couldn't sleep. And everytime I did try to sleep, the Gingerbread Dog was all over me. Bad dog. His birthday is coming up by the way, 2 years old this August 21. I'm planning a CLP and all of you are invited. Yeah. As I said, I'm antsy. Next paragraph please. Sorry for the 30 seconds of your life you'll never get back.

I'm just trying to help! HBD to mehhh! You're invited! 8/21!

Of Support Crews and the Ultimate Emperador Sacrifice
On the path to fulfilling my dreams, I ran into a major obstacle - who the heck would support me? No way I could survive the distance without any form of help. My college friends are either getting married ( Note to self : Tick tock... . Tick Tock... ) or being stationed abroad. No way could they support me. I don't wanna hassle Gingerbread Gal, that's too long of a grind. So looks like I need to call on the last people on my list, the ones that I really didn't want to bother - the Gingerbread Dad and no less than internet legend/favorite uncle Tito Caloy. They had given up their commitment to support me on the journey, and Tito Caloy cancelled his Emperador LCLP with the kumpadres. Sob. Imagine, he gave that up for me? Must have been torn. Poignant moment right there.

GBM : Thanks for helping me out Dad.

GD : No problem son. I will just bring you there and meet you in the morning, am no spring chicken anymore . Tito Caloy will take over.

TC : Gigimik lang yan... ...

GBM : !!!!

TC: Gano tayo katagal dun?

GBM: Max of 9 hours?

TC: May chicks ba dun?

GBM: !!!!!

Gingerbread Dad and internet Legend Tito Caloy all set

Official Gingerbread Support Car

Yellow Cab, 11:20 pm Saturday

I am nervous. Really. I mean, I am gunning to run a distance that I have never tackled before, not even close. A lot of people would not subscribe to that. But hey that's just me. It would kill me if I didn't try. Classic Gingerbread hard-headedness there. Meeting place is Yellow Cab Julia Vargas and the two elder Gingerbread folk are early. Early but... . they ordered a Pizza! Whaaa? It's 11:30 already! We might be late! Gingerbread Dad bought like 40 Gatorade bottles along with oreos, chocolates, and ... pizza. You'd think we were going on a children's party or something instead of an ultramarathon. Children.. hmm. Just made me remember a conversation with Gingerbread Mom over the phone while chilling from her lofty perch.

GBM: Yes Mom I'm running a 50k ultramarathon. I may even go for 100 if I'm still alive.

GM: Aww that's so great son!

GBM: Uh, yeah? It's running from UP to Commonwealth then SM Fairview then retrace the whole thing back to UP! It's a big deal you know! I'll be famous!

GM: Awww that's wonderful! How long will you be away?

GBM: I'll be running for 8, 9 hours straight! Very few runners are crazy enough to do it!

GM: Wow, very nice! Very nice! Make sure you won't run come nightfall it's dangerous!

GBM: Ugh, its at 1am Mom.

GM: Well then make sure you're home in time for lunch! It's Sunday and you rarely go here! Take care! Do you have money?

GBM: (The way our conversation is running you would think I'm just going out to the mall to watch a movie or something. Old people. What fun. )

Starting Line , 12:59 am

T he runners were all hyped up and ready to go, the excitement over the culmination of weeks and months of training reaching fever pitch. As the organizers counted down the seconds, you could feel the palpable tension amidst the crowd. There was a definitive buzz. Neville and Ian had given last minute instructions, car stickers and banners already distributed. Class pictures were taken. Niceties were exchanged among the brave souls, a pall of both uncertainty and anticipation slowly falling over the group. 81 have come to defy the odds and enter the hard-knocks, no-frills world of the ultramarathon. As the starting gun went off and the group started going en masse past the utilitarian starting line banner, you get to think... how many of them would be here to cross the finish?

Newbies getting tips from the ultra vets

Sir Ronnie aka Runnerforchrist and Takbo.ph running bud Doc Sherwin pre-race

They will keep us safe

Pat's lucky charm

Race directors par excellance Ian and Neville for last-minute instructions

The starting line beckons... .

Kilometer 10, 2:10 am. What's the Rush?

Amidst the helter skelter start, me and TNF 100 vet/ Takbo.ph buddy Pat were left bundled together for the first 10km of the run. For some insane reason , we thought we were way behind the pack. And for an even more insane reason, we ran the first 10k in 70 mins. Apparently, for runners of our skill level, that is tantamount to a virtual death knell in ultra terms. As you see the story unravel, the implications of such a brazen move would have significant ramifications on the two of us as the race wore on.

I can do this...

The bunny is the key

The 1st and 2nd placers of GIG Run pose for a bit

Km 11 - 20 , 3 am. The Endless Roads of Commonwealth Ave.

The route looped back to base camp at Ylanan before we set out to go to Commonwealth. I was starting to think that this breakneck pace was not prudent at all if I was to go the distance. So I signaled to Pat to leave me behind. As I went out to Commonwealth, I realized that the road to success would be a solitary one.

Mundane sights on a road that doesn't end
The very same route I have traversed endless times in the past by car didn't seem like it would end. An interesting twist was that I had to pass by the Quezon CIty circle as well, going through the overpass twice.

The sight that greets tired wannabe ultramarathoners
I never realized that thing was that long. Once you had completed that part, you would be passing what seemed like a never ending road. Twists along the way - Tito Caloy finally tracked me down, gave much needed support. I was expecting him to look sheepish or bored to death, but he looked genuinely concerned. Naks. Scene after Tito Caloy had given me some much-needed refreshments :

Unknown Oldie Runner : May tubig ka b a diyan?
Tito Caloy : Ah, eh, meron
UOR : Pahingi naman
TC: Ah, eh, cge eto
UOR: Gatorade meron?
TC: Um, oo, pero... ..
UOR: Pahingi na din. Baon. Malayong bakbakan to.
TC: !!!
GBM:!!!

(runner speeds off)

TC: You're welcome!
GBM: What the fudge was that all about?

Sight for sore legs

Generous Guy Tito Caloy having a drink. No not that kind.
Along Commonwealth I also repeatedly ran into veteran ultra dude Kiko (who actually went on to finish the 100k. Kept on offering him an Oreo or Gatorade. Or something. Refused every time. "I'm good, thank you." Classy, nice guy. Ultra Marathon tips on-the-go that I got from him :

1. Walk the inclines. Always. Don't even think about it.
2. You should have no injuries or funky feelings at the 50k mark. If you do, don't even think about it.
3. Eat real, whole meals. Planning on eating Oreos and chocolates the whole time? Don't even think about it.

Sage advice from ultra vet Kiko helped me surviveI took his advice to heart... . thus I ended up not thinking at all :)

Km 22 - 30 , 530 am. The long uphill to SM Fairview.

Upon reaching the very end of Commonwealth and hitting the turn to SM Fairview, evil voices in my head were slowly picking on my psyche in the dark solitude of that fateful Sunday morning.

You gotta be crazy dude. This is a route that BUSES take. You are so far off. You're alone. It's so dark you could get mugged. In your excitement to maintain an "ultra pace" your friends are at least an hour ahead of you. You're slow. Just quit and get back to your pampered , softie lifestyle. Go... go ride your support car and go home to Daddy.

Thankfully, I did my best to tune out these thoughts that would make Norman Vincent Peale turn in his grave. And Tito Caloy was resolute in not letting me rot on the road. He would show up every 10k or so, and just the mere sight of someone to talk to would sustain reanimate me. Thank God, he didn't desert me! Blood is thicker than alcohol! I've been running for nearly 5 hours straight already. Must not quit.
Just as I was completely losing my sanity, I ran into the group of veteran ultraman and Takbo.ph buddy Ronald. Was a big group, and we ended up pacing until the aid station at SM Fairview where cold water and camote nourished us. The last sigh of fresh air before the final push. Its much akin to that slight lull before the Battle of Helm's deep in LOTR.

SM Fairview will never look the same again

Brief respite before the final push
Km 30 onwards. What happened??

The events of what happened from this point on were all a blur to me. It's like a lucid dream. A real, live one (to the younger readers, kindly google "Vanilla Sky"). Essentially, the absurdity of a quick start combined with running for what was to eventually be eight hours began to catch up with me. Laundry list of what happened to me until the finish line :

1. Cramped up both legs at 35k mark
2. Knees tightened at 37k mark
3. Couldn't run well at 37k mark
4. Lost Tito Caloy until QC Circle Part Deux. He was ensnared in a running conversation with an old lady along Fairview on magnets (huh?) and he couldn't extricate himself. Ugh.
5. Was escorted by two scooters at 35 k mark. Seriously thought I was the very last runner. For someone who takes solace in the fact that he cracked the top 60 of his last 10k race, this was a terrible blow to the psyche that added exponentially to the mental strain he was already going through
6. Ipod went dead at 40k
7. Voices in head became louder at 40k
8. Saw Mcdonald's icon Grimace running in front of him at 41k mark

9. Openly considered quitting at 41k after seeing Grimace
10.Became fast friends with two gentlemen of an advanced age who were ditching the 100k ultra because they couldn't go on any further . Sakit ng tiyan ko hijo, masakit!
11.Quick fist pump at 42k mark. First full marathon. Wohoo! Oh great 8k more to go
12.Received encouraging phone calls from Takbo.ph pals Rico, Rod and Edu at 42 mark,
reviving me from a semi-comatose state
13.Decided with finality that shooting for a 100k would land me in the hospital. I need the money from my job. Hospital would TAKE money I don't have away from me. Easiest choice I ever made.
14.Tito Caloy gives encouraging advice to call it a day with a smile.
15.Met by the most raucous ovation one could ever ask for at the 45k mark from the Takbo.ph family. I almost cried. Oh wait hold the tears. 5 more kilometers to go.
16.Bromance partner Rico aka Sheer Will paced me for the longest 5k of my life. Would possibly wilted if I was alone.
17.Best finish of my relatively nascent running career - screaming friends, a medal, parent and fun uncle in the crowd. Tons of cameras clicking away. With the racket going on you would think I won the damn thing. Felt like a gazillion bucks.

Eternally grateful for the 5k push

A final, painful run for glory

Happy Gingerbread Dad

Tito Caloy comes through for the Gingerbread Clan

It was all worth it... .

Because of these guys and gals

So there. Whew. That's my story. A dichotomy that unraveled as the layers of my soul were stripped down to its barest, purest form. A guy who yearns to be on top of the list ends up on the bottom. One who yearns to be fast ended up taking it very slow. Who went through the entire journey in independent solitude, only to rely on the kindness and thoughtfulness of others in order to finish.

I came in to test my limits, to prove that the mental faculties of an individual trump the physical every time. I came in with a chip on my shoulder, to show that I have the ability to go over and beyond what people expect of me. I came in... . with lofty expectations.

81 hopefuls. 47 made it.
In the end, when everything was said and done, amidst the warm company of family and friends...

I was just so happy to be there and savor the moment with them.

There's always a story behind a story. Isn't that the interesting part?

Looking back,I was never really a swim kinda guy. You know how kids get sent to all those cool summer camps? Swim camp, tennis camp, basketball camp, anything to keep you preoccupied while school's out. I got... .. French lessons and exotic coin collecting.Great. I firmly believe that my overprotective mother was so concerned that I would get "injured" in this "big strange world" out there that instead of doing 500 meters at the pool I was downing 5 gallons of ice cream. All while watching Wacky Races on the i-Channel with this newfangled Sky Cable thing.

Poor kiddo.So to put it succinctly, I never had the benefit of those summer camp skills. I was pretty good with a Sega Mega Drive though (don't you just love all these Senti Sabado 90's references). Never really thought much of it... . much of my teenage and college life you could always just fake it by sort of wading in the shallow part and yapping it up with the gang during those sembreak trips to Bora.Thus... . not knowing how to swim didn't really matter. I rarely did anyway. I grew up. Got a degree. Went into the corporate world. Gained 40 pounds. Swimming was the farthest thing from my mind. It's like the staple party trick that you just couldn't seem to pull off but could care less if you could, like tying the cherry knots with your tongue or blowing plastic bubbles from little Chinese-made tubes.

That's hard.You know what happened next. Fat guy gets into running and loses 40 pounds. Fat Guy is no longer fat after running 102 rounds. Not-so-fat-guy bought a bike and tried this duathlon feat.And then one day he woke up and decided he wanted to be a triathlete.

The impossible dream?Suddenly, my early childhood deficiency came to the fore in a bad way. Triathlete? Maybe more like a Try-athlete, as klitschy as that sounds. Obviously, a triathlete who doesn't know how to swim is somewhat of an oxymoron.So what the crap was I supposed to do?The easy way to go about it was to just let go of the dream. Heck, maybe we're simply not meant to do certain things. Some people freeze up in public speaking, and some can't sing to save their lives. I can't swim to save my life either, so maybe I should just stick to what I know.Maybe it just wasn't meant for me.

Decision TimeI gave it a long hard look. I'm never one to back down from any challenge, but trying to do something that sent shivers down my spine, and at a competitive level at that, seemed a bit of a stretch for me.But then again, that would mean walking away from the dream... ..Pros. Cons. Contemplation. The setting Ortigas skyline cast its gentle shadow on me as I stood on my terrace, my gaze trailing off into the sunset. Should I play it safe? Could I withstand a lifetime of regrets and what if's , all because I never bothered to try?What would you do?

What pill?I chose the red pill . Time to face my fears and man up.Let's give this swimming thing a shot.Home-cooked "training" Emphasis on "training", because quite frankly, I had no idea what I was doing.

Duh.I'm more of the self-help kinda guy. Even with running, I took pride in the fact that I was a self-made man. Not that I abhor any form of outside advice or input, but it just seems that I do better when I learn on my own. So with much bravado, I set out to find as much material online as I could to learn this swim thing.Turns out, swimming is nowhere close to running. And learning on my own was easier said than done. I tried watching countless YouTube videos from all these online "gurus" saying conflicting things. Became part of countless swimming mailing lists, which I came to realize was merely an avenue to spam you with their products. I even downloaded the fun Mr. Smooth animation that supposedly allows you to emulate a "perfect" stroke free of any idiosyncrasies.

He doesn't smile too much.The end result of all these efforts?Epic fail.The info overload from differing viewpoints was a little hard to take in. I mean, for running, you just well, er, run. Once you can ride a bike, it's pretty much muscle memory. But I realized that swimming is a discipline that focuses a lot on technique. Technique that this stiff-armed Gingerbread character did not possess. The quick, rapid improvement that I was supposed to shock everyone with never saw the light of day. Sob.To further exacerbate things, the competitive nut in me got me in trouble again. The Dean's Cup is a UP Law-organized tweener sprint distance triathlon comprised of a 750m swim, 20k bike and 5k run, and for some reason there was this crazy itch in me to join.

With an initial foray into duathlon, there was a certain comfort level with the bike, and the run part is a given. But that 750m of swimming seemed more daunting than 102 kms of running to me at that time. Nevertheless, the "how will you ever learn if you don't bother to try" paradigm got to me again. And before I knew it, I had deposited my cool P1,250 reg fee and was on my way to either multisport glory or the bottom of the pool. (Ulk)Slight problem - Date of Payment : July 22, 2010.Date of Race : August 1, 2010.Sheesh.

Habol ng Habol. With barely two weeks left to prepare, I was scrambling. If I were an egg, I'd be the farthest thing from an easy over. I mean, ano nanaman ba tong napasukan ko? Some people wait months, even years before going for it. Yet here I was joining on another whim. I've come to realize that there are two kinds of athletes within the late adopter bubble- those who want to join with the best training possible so that they could rock it out, or those who join just to see if they can finishand set a yardstick for themselves. Obviously, I belong to the more daring (and should I say foolhardy)latter group.Palawan Chicken Swims In utter desperation, I was fortunate to have friends to help me out. Takbo.ph/Endure Multisport buddies Rico Villanueva and RJ Bumanlag helped me out at the Ultra pool one rainy Sunday afternoon. It was my first time to swim at Ultra, and I was daunted by the size. I had never swam 50m straight before in an Olympic size pool, and it was quite an experience of the lung busting kind. One lap was enough to knock the wind out of me. And you're telling me I had to do this 15 times during the triathlon? Whaaaaat??Significant confidence was still gained though, though I think my stress level shot up a couple of notches. We celebrated a good swim by partaking of sumptous Palawan chicken at Tiendesitas, one of the best dishes I had tried in a while.Waitress : Ser, may kasama na poh na apat na kanin yan... RJ: Ay miss baka sobra yang kanin, tatlo lang kamiRico: Oo nga, baka pwedeng kanya kanyang kanin na lang?Waitresss : Ay di na poh pwede ser package na poh yan. (15 mins later)RJ: Miss, isa ngang extra rice!Rico : Er, uh, ako din miss!GBM : Make dat three!

You have got to try this, take my word for it.One Step Forward, Ten Steps BackWith this newfound confidence, I ventured out(perhaps a bit too haphazardly) to further strengthen my swim skills albeit with poor rudimentary form. A quick visit on a stormy night at the Army pool near Mckinley proved to be a serious speed bump, just when I was gaining momentum. Visibility was next to nil, couldn't see crap. And as I would get to learn later, the pool was shaped in such a way that bouyancy was greater, making for a much more difficult swim.Right smack in the middle of a lap I felt that the pool was so heavy. Soon enough I was tiring rapidly, and before I knew it I was hyperventilating. Meaning I couldn't breathe. Which meant I was freaking out and drowning. Yes, drowning. I tried hanging on to the lane dividers or buoys. Crap! There weren't any! Flailing, panicking. Oh boy, what a disaster. I finally managed to make it to the shallow part of the pool quite shaken and shaking, but more bothered that I had lost my nerve just days before the race.Whatever faux swimming mojo I had before that session just flew out of the window.I couldn't get myself to a pool in the days after. I considered withdrawing from the race altogether, just give up this stupid nonsense. How can I be a triathlete if I can't swim?Once again, maybe it wasn't for me... ..More soul searching. The decision was agonizing. I didn't want to be labeled a quitter. Maybe I could never forgive myself if I bailed. But what if I drown again?With time running out, I ended up with the its-up-to-God move.(it sounds better in the vernacular)I leave it all to a higher power now.

Drowning is not a fun thing.D-Day Race day beckons. Armed with zero confidence and a goosebumps at the mere sight of water, I entered the transition area for body markings at UP with much trepidation. What if I make a monumental fool out of myself in front of everybody? What if I drown well, die? My would- be career would have been over before it had even started.Add in the pressure that this was my first official race under the banner of Endure Multisport, and you have an idea how my brain was functioning before the race. What if I mess up? Would they fire me? Eeek.

Smiles beforehand a mere facade to the anxiety withinSplash So here we go. Moment of truth. Like a salve to sooth my nerves, we were advised that the 750m swim portion would start at the deep, 10 foot part of the pool. Oh great. No one told me the salve came from the makers of chili plaster. I hung on to the pool ladder for dear life and kept to the back of the pack while waiting for our wave to be released.For me, this wasn't just the focal point of the whole race. It was make or break time.

Sob.A final heave, and I was finally done! 750m in 33 mins, how awful. But still, it felt like the weight of the entire world was lifted off my shoulders. I trotted off to the transition area, which was like 300 meters away, my mind set on one thing - making up for lost time.Mash A super slow T1 didn't help at all, and in my mindless zeal I nearly went out with everyone zooming by at full speed. The course was the Acad Oval had an extended, slight downhill followed by a false flat on the other end. I tried going out with guns blazing, but alas I'm not that strong of a biker yet to make it all up. I was passing people, but not as many as you would think.The exhaustion of the swim along with the heat were also getting to me, and was slow up the inclines with no cleats working for me. I overestimated my biking ability and thought I could take it in 40 mins. Not even close. I limped home to T2 in 55 mins, which meant I was barely above 20 kph. Eek.

Speed BagalDash Having no bike shoes has one lame advantage - it makes for a fast T2 transition. I took off my helmet and sped off, according to my teammates, "like a man possessed". Gigil na gigil daw. And for good reason. After trudging through a survival swim and a lame bike, here I was at core discipline. I couldn't wait to get out there. I run a high 21 minute 5k, maybe I could make up for lost time. Of course, we all know that ain't happening. My body had been beaten down severely at this point, and the heat was scorching. Legs felt like they had weights strapped on to them. Managed to pass several at the back end, but not enough to make a dent on my time. As I was sprinting towards the end and my entire team was egging me on, I came to the realization that Hey, I'm actually doing this! I survived!

Just a little more... As I crossed the line with an otherwise pedestrian 25 minute run split for a 1:54:16 total, the sense of accomplishment was overwhelming. Didn't matter that I was last on our team to finish, 56th place overall and 9th in our age group. I was particularly proud that although I utterly sucked out, I won my battle against the water. The phobia was messing with my brain, and I'm happy I stood up and fought it.The route I took was unconventional, and some if not most may not subscribe to it. But to the competitive people out there who wish to take a stab at something new, always remember that nothing is impossible if you only bother trying. If a guy like me with no prior swim skills (and who first encountered an Olympic-sized pool two weeks before the race) could hack it, so could you.

Happy guy.I'm a happy guy. I faced my fear and won a staredown with it. And I'm back to actually tell all of you the tale. My first try at my first tri. Always special the first time around eh? And to think it all came oh so close to never happening... .No what if's here.It matters not how straight the gateHow charged with punishments the scrollI am the captain of my fateI am the master of my soul - from William Ernest Henley's Invictus

G ingerbreadman closed his email with a weird feeling in his stomach. No, it wasn't that. It was an invite. To a presser. What an honor. Thus, in spite of his heavy workday which included a marathon 3-hour meeting, being suspected of being a student insurgent at the Malacanang gates and giving a 2 hour speech to 500 people (only one is made up, and it's not what you think), he went on to Megamall to roll the dice, eagerly anticipating the thrill of a fresh experience in his life away from the corporate bustle.

ADB Avenue, 6:10 pm
Oh boy. So the secret's out eh. They've been mumbling about this for like a month now. And now it could be said. What the big deal? Here's the big deal, and I've been getting snippets of this here and there. Apparently, it's called the Kenny's Open 2009 Urbanite Run. U rbanite? Urban? Hmmm. Nite? They need a copy-editor. Maybe they could hire me. But then again I hate copy editing. So this is THE event. In partnership with Takbo.ph of course. The one we've been hearing for like... forever. Oh boy Jinoe made me a moderator. What an honor. Ranks up there with the time that I took 3rd place in our quiz bee as a 4th grader. So what if only three showed up! There was a big storm that day and... Oh crap the MMDA dudes are flagging me down for coding. Goodbye 100 bucks.

Cool!

Not Cool!

GBM arrived at the designated venue 5 minutes early, still smarting from being divested ofP100 by the very people who were tasked to make our streets a better place. The anxiety of being alone amidst the more senior members of the runner/ blogger community dissipated as he saw a familiar face in Doc Lyndon aka Malmonmd. He remembered how Doc had warmly welcomed him at the Condura CLP as a newbie, made him feel like he belonged. I'll pay homage to the gesture one day to a nervous newbie when I'm in a position of seniority. But at this particular juncture, at this precise time and place - he was the newbie once more. Doc's amiable demeanor jostled him from his daydreams. Queenie is there. BR was there awhile ago, he just went out. Go inside and make yourself comfy. BR? Bald Runner? THE Bald Runner? If that was a portent of things to come, this was going to be a good night.

Doc Lyndon with his beautiful familyI am with Legends
Upon entering, a throng of familiar and not-so-familiar faces greeted his entrance. Looking around, he surveyed the scene in earnest anticipation as his underlying excitement was nearing its zenith. The venue isn't enclosed. I hope we could hear one another amidst this mad, rush hour dinner crowd. Friendly faces abound. Takbo.ph elite idol Vener,also known in blogging parlance as Run Unltd. was there. One day I hope to be as fast as him. Okay maybe not. But still, I appreciate that he was at that finish line when I finished that insane 50k Ultra. ( Editor's Note : Yes, I owe you an entry on that epic life experience and yes I'll get to it once I finish the things that I need to do. Things that, uh, actually pay me money. I need to feed my family, put food on the table. Or maybe I just need the money to buy running thingamajigies) Trail runner extraordinaire/overall nice guy/foodie connoisseur Sir Rene aka The JazzRunner was there, exchanging niceties and running stories as they eventually settled on being "seatmates" for the duration of the presser. A small group was formed at one of the tables., members of the running blogosphere no doubt. A quick glance showedthat one of them was Vimz aka Kulit on the Run . While he was always a fan of her site and layout, as much as he wanted to say "hi" his inherent Gingerbread nature dictated him to lean towards the "shy" end of the spectrum.At least for the first 5 minutes. There were also Roselle The Running Diva and Bards of BananaRunning sightings. From the Takbo.ph ranks, Coach/Mod Pojie was indisposed and couldnt make it. 5k pacer/motivational speaker Rico of Sheer Will fame was running late. Boss Jinoe was apparently stuck in traffic. But the real treat was yet to come. Two running luminaries , veritable legends in the field were in the house. And our protagonist was reduced to a blubbering piece of blubber.

Sir Rene and Vener

Queenie, Roselle, Vener, and Bards Unbelievable. I finally got to talk to the irrepressible Bald Runner . Sir Jovie himself. He's a really nice guy. You'd think he'd have a gruff military guy vibe. But he's really cool. Gave me a ton of tips on how to recover from an ultramarathon, and how to increase my speed. I'm glad he likes my work. That just inspires me to write more and spend less time on my day job! (alt tabs to "Communications Strategy 2009" as boss passes by) Whew. Anyway, another tremendous experience was to meet race walk legend /shipping magnate/big hearted nice guy Sir Amado Castro, who's also known for his popular Reinier6666 blog. Handshakes, warm exchanges ensued. I'm really touched by his kind words for our blog, as well as his unending support in helping our running community , the Takbo.ph Aid Station during the Botak ultra a prime example. Sigh, a good day indeed.

Photo-op to remember The Grub Before the Storm, 7:30 pm Without any trepidation, the Jazzrunner ordered a bountiful feast fit for a, er, hungry blogger. No further elaboration required.

Yum. Nuff Said. Presser Proper, 7:45 The briefing was led by agency rep/ DLSU alum Denise and fun guy/Finish Line head honcho Vince Mendoza. Coach Rio soon followed suit, presumably to help out with the question and answer portion. The concept was novel. The first ever night run with a disposable timing chip system is to be launched. Side events to follow. Coolpix capable. Glow in the dark bracelets. Refletorized bibs. Double the marshals.Free food when you register. Help out a wonderful cause. What more do you need to know?

No mic, no prob for Denise

There it is

Amazing how Vince does that hand gesture

Coach clarifying things during Q&A

This presentation is cool. Even without a mic! Oh there's a mic now! Just in time for the closing remarks! BR is asking about the security issues since it's a night run. It's been prevalent nowadays, you know. Oh god did I just do a Pacquiao. Anyway, it's admirable how Vince and Coach Rio handle his queries, and it's also admirable how Sir Jovie volunteered Team BR to help out with security. That right there is the spirit of volunteerism that we should espouse amongst oursleves, if only to give back to our community. Okay, so everything is working out great except that... oh lord I forgot to take notes! How am I supposed to write about this thing? Guesswork? Can I just make it up? Oh shoot. Hmm.. I know... why not we tap our ET running buddies from The Collective to get me back in time and get me that info. ... ... ... .. Okay that sure was fast. Run Strong and Prosper my preternatural friends. So here's what we got...

Now, Kenny Rogers is taking another leap forward in its dedication to health - one that is bound shake up a storm! It is with great pride that we present: The Kenny’s Open 2009 Urbanite Run ! On August 15 ^th at 8:00 p.m. , at Bonifacio Global City in the Fort, a truly one-of-a-kind run will take place. And as the name suggests, The Kenny’s Open Urbanite Run will happen at night!

With an advanced timing chip system to record runners’ progress and distances of 5/10/15 kilometers, the Urbanite Run is designed especially for the young and young at heart of the Metro. Participants 18 years old and above are eligible to sign up!

Joining is easy. Simply stop over at any Kenny Rogers Roasters branch or the new Kenny’s Roast and Grill restaurant at the Powerplant and purchase the Urbanite Run Ticket to Eat, Run and Donate your way to fitness! Registration can be done manually or via online & mobile through www.kennys.com.ph.

EVENT DETAILS:

1. The Kenny’s Open 2009 Urbanite Run will be held on August 15, 2009 (Saturday) at The Fort. Official call time will be at 8:00pm .

2. The run will a cco mmodate a total of 3,000 runners, 18 YO and above, with divisions of 5, 10, and 15 kilometer distances.

HOW TO JOIN:

1. Purchase the Urbanite Run Ticket

a. To join the Kenny’s Open 2009 Urbanite Run, interested participants must purchase an Urbanite Run Ticket for P600 at any Kenny Roger’s Roasters branch or the new Kenny’s Roast and Grill restaurant at the Powerplant.

b. Interested participants may also purchase the Urbanite Run ticket through the web or on their mobile phones by visiting www.kennys.com.ph . An electronic claim voucher will be issued to registrants to claim their Urbanite Run Ticket at any Kenny Roger’s Roasters branch or the new Kenny’s Roast and Grill restaurant at the Powerplant.

Urbanite Run Tickets will entitle participants to:

a. Eat: Bearers are entitled to an Urbanite meal from Kenny Rogers. Simply present the Urbanite Run Ticket at any Kenny Rogers branch to claim the Urbanite meal. Redemption period from July 15 to Aug. 15, 2009 .

b. Run: The Urbanite Run Ticket will serve as the runner’s registration voucher, to be attached to their registration form, if they register manually. See below for registration details.

c. Donate: Serve as runner’s donation to Hands On Manila Foundation. On the day of the run, bearers are to drop the “Donate” portion of their Urbanite Run Tickets at the designated box on-site.

2. Register for the Run

Registration will be from July 15 to August 11, 2009 .

Participants may register online or through designated registration sites. For other details, please contact Vince Mendoza at (632) 7031736.

a. Online Registration Process

a. Interested participants are to log on to www.kennys.com.ph , click on the “Events” tab, follow the Urbanite Race link, and register their details online.

b. Once registered, participants must submit their details and settle payment via credit card/ GCash or ATM.

c. An electronic claim voucher will be issued to registrants to claim their Urbanite Run Ticket at any Kenny Roger’s Roasters branch or the new Kenny’s Roast and Grill restaurant at the Powerplant.

d. Participants may also choose to have their race kits delivered at a minimal cost. Delivery address to be indicated in the online registration form.

e. Confirmation email will be sent to the participant’s email within 24 hours upon online payment.

b. Registration thru designated registration sites.

a. Interested participants must go to the available Finishline Registration booths at the four (4) pre-identified marathons:

i. 2 ^nd GIG Run, UP Diliman

ii. Milo Manila Elimination, Luneta Grandstand

iii. Robinson’s Fit & Fun Wellness Buddy Ru, NBC Tent

iv. Globe Run For Home on July 19 at The Global City, Fort Bonifacio , Taguig City

b. Interested participants may also register their details at Nike Park and Runnr and claim race materials on-site.

c. Manual registration will also be available to last-minute participants on the night of the run – within 1hr before call time.

EVENT DAY:

1. Call time

On the night of the run, participants must arrive at 8:00 pm. Assembly and gun start times of each division are as follows:

Distance

Assembly

Gun Start

5K

TBD

8:30PM (TBC)

10k

TBD

8:45PM (TBC)

15k

TBD

9:00PM (TBC)

2. Prizes

a. The following cash prizes will be awarded to first, second, and third place finishers of each division, to be awarded after the run finishes.

Distance

5 Kilometers

10 Kilometers

15 Kilometers

Male

Female

Male

Female

Male

Female

1 ^st Place

Php 5,000

Php 5,000

Php 5,000

Php 5,000

Php 5,000

Php 5,000

2 ^nd Place

Php 3,000

Php 3,000

Php 3,000

Php 3,000

Php 3,000

Php 3,000

3 ^rd Place

Php 2,000

Php 2,000

Php 2,000

Php 2,000

Php 2,000

Php 2,000

b. Employees of Roasters Group Inc., Bates141 Philippines, Zenith Optimedia including their relatives up to the second degree of consanguinity or affinity are disqualified from winning the cash prizes.

3. Event Activities

At the end of the run, participants will be invited to relax to a concert of Tribo Manila and purchase their Urbanite dinners at discount.

4. Security Measures

a. Stationary marshals at different points along the run route, approximately 100-150 meters apart or at strategic areas.

b. Roving marshals in motorcycles to tail and keep runners in line.

c. Police marshals and traffic enforcer group will direct traffic and to ensure runners will not be approached by onlookers.

d. Roving police escorts as added security measure.

e. Perimeter barricading at the start/finish line to keep runners assembled properly.

f. Roving security designated at the parking area.

5. Safety Measures

a. Runners to wear illuminated bib numbers and glow bracelets for easy tracking.

b. The marathon route will also contain “reflectorized” cones and signages to ensure the clarity of the track

c. Perimeter lighting will be placed around the run route every 50 meters or so.

d. In case of emergency, two (2) ambulances will be on standby with a dedicated first aid station at the event grounds.

e. All runners are entitled to insurance coverage worth Php 100,000.00 with Php 10,000.00 medical reimbursement.

The Takbo.ph boys full of ribs and chix So as the presscon drew to a close, new friends were made and old ones were reinforced. Close encounters of the running legend kind never hurt the Gingerbread folk as well. There was an air of great anticipation for this one-of-a-kind event. So as GBM started to head for the exits, he was stopped by a familair foil... .. Rico : Hey Gingerbread creature! GBM : Uh, hi boss. Rico: How are your knees? GBM : I can walk now boss... Rico: Great great. You owe me for that 5k. If not for me you would be frothing in the mouth in that unknown UP place! GBM: Mosr probably boss. No worries, if ever they do a bromance movie on my life, you will be the lead. Rico: How flattering. ANyway, business first. Where's my GC? GBM: What GC? Rico: Duh THE LEVI's GC for your fraudulent "contest" ! GBM: Oh yeah that... . Rico: I should report you to the blogging ADBOARD ! Shameless Blog Promotion! GBM: Uh, boss... Rico: Yes? What? I should... WOAH! YAY! It's True ! It wasn't a sham! My precious GC's! YEBAHHH!

It pays to be a Levi's wenner
Wonderful event. Great People. Good food. Come to think of it... It was a good night indeed.

Powerpuff Boys. TPB. The crew with the can't-miss singlet has steadily garnered a cult ever since a highly controversial runner-up finish during the inaugural Chris Sports Epic Relay 250 Race. In the months that had passed since their cause celebre' , the open-source singlet had become a veritable fan favorite amongst running denizens. Perhaps because of the fun color, but more so because a lot could relate to the scrapping, never-say-die attitude the team exhibited during its maiden campaign.

It's fuchsia.
With team running events few and far in between, not a few wondered when the men in fuchsia would ever don their proud colors again. Would they ever get a shot at redemption? Alas, a rare opportunity presented itself - The Fort Running Festival. 30 runners to a team, best cumulative time wins. The yahoogroup immediately went off the hook as the team scrambled to search for possible members, given that the original team only had ten competing members .

In the mold of the original team, the closest thing to a competitive sub-elite team was formed. These are dudes who may not be considered as "elite", yet showcase an advanced level of fitness in consistently placing in the upper percentile of local races. I guess people could relate because you don't have national -team level professionals , but ordinary working people with day jobs who have dedicated themselves to a committed healthy lifestyle. Weeks turned into months amidst numerous roster changes due to a laundry list of reasons. The final lineup comprised of a motley crew of marathoners, ultramarathoners, triathletes, mountaineers, running veterans, greenhorns, and one running ninja.
I had quite the experience with the team during our Epic Relay run, certainly one of the highlights of my year. Even if I was one of the central figures in our "controversial" finish, the goodwill generated by the entire experience overshadowed whatever bitterness ensued. That said, I couldn't wait to race with these guys again. Much to my chagrin, it was scheduled on the same day as the Speedo National Age Group Triathlon, which I had been preparing for. So I essentially passed for this race. In yet another twist, registration slots sold out like hotcakes three weeks before, which practically never happens. Thus, I was left without a race! Great. Blessings come when you least expect it though. Regrettably, someone had pulled out from the roster due to injury days before the race, and they were scrambling to find someone on such short notice.

While it's not exactly GBM saves the day, because I'm really just a roster filler, I was overjoyed at the prospect of donning our pink colors once more and just having an awesome time with the gang.

D-Day
The team met beforehand for a quick pep talk and to finalize all remaining logistical concerns. We also wore the Adobo Run promotional bibs that our buddies at Paul Calvin's Deli hooked us up with. To quote that dude in Ocean's 13, I felt like I was in a " field of excellence". Some of these guys I had never met before, but I was well aware of their running pedigree. The ones I did know, these were stacked with very strong runners, top-tier stuff. Original TPB members abound too, practically everyone from the Epic Relay campaign was there. As much as the atmosphere was light and relaxed, there was a subtle yet palpable feeling of pressure.

I had to deliver. I couldn't let these guys down. Not while wearing these colors.

And So It Begins
The gun went off without any warning, and so were off. I was particularly worried because I have been putting more effort into bike and swim training, and my supposed bread and butter running capabilities were pretty much non-existent. Got to pace with low-key original Takbo.ph moderator and Philippine Blog Award finalist Natz Garcia, one of the strongest runners I know. A past Milo National finalist, his season-long spartan approach to training manifested immediately as I could barely keep up with his machine-like pace. There was jostling on the route, some starting out crazy fast. I was a goner by the 7th kilometer. Gasp. Wheez.

Halfway Mark
Settling down to a more comfortable pace, I got to hang on with speedy TPB pioneer Mark Mulder, our short-distance specialist who was making his debut at the pikermi distance. Always helps to have someone act as your metronome, keeps you from slacking off. Entering Bayani and Heritage, we were hanging tough even as a mass of people from another race got us off-tangent for a couple of moments. Note to self: You should go inside Heritage Park more, it's actually beautiful inside. Ran into original TPB skipper Brian Rivera (who regrettably skipped the race due to injury) and Doc Eire there snapping up photos and mouthing words of encouragement to us.

Pain amidst beauty at Heritage for the TPB Boys
3/4 of the way

Last 15k. As me and Mark were laboring on the way back to Bayani Road, I was telling him that if we just gut out that last uphill at the Essensa area, we'd have it made. Silly me. They keep on adding these fun uphills in a never ending variation of all possible Fort Routes. Running on fumes, don't even know how I'm sustaining this. Mark is lagging back a little, from what I would later learn were shin issues. Just a bit more... .

Last Kilometer
Surprisingly, I still had some spring in my step, so I was pouring it on with Mark right on my tail. Strong finish, let's go for this. Only, the finish line was coming in too... early. Aww shucks. I clocked in at 1:43 on a 21.3 course, which would have meant a phenomenal 7 minute improvement over my personal best. Extrapolating that pace to the full distance (and there's no doubt in my mind that I could have held it, lowered it even), it would have come out to a high 1:46. Not bad,still a personal best. As much as personal records are nice though, this was one race where the team came first.

Near the chute Vindication, Retribution
Though this race lacked the inherent drama of Epic Relay, there still was a lot of suspense with it. As the TPB crew piled in one by one, we had no idea if the aggregate time of the team would be sufficient to win it. Further exacerbating our anxiety was the fact that Running Ninja Sam, a regular sub-2 hour finisher and BDM 102 veteran was racked with cramps somewhere along the route. Tough break. In our heads, our worries about teams making up the distance were only overshadowed by our worries for a fallen comrade.

Time seemed to stand still. Finally, we saw Sam limping through the line in a gutsy 2:30 effort. Cheers abound. Now all we had to do was wait for the official announcement.

I was chatting with Abby when suddenly I heard awards host DJ Chloe of 94.7 call out the winners of the team event ... .

TEAM POWERPUFF BOYS!

Oh my. Bedlam ensued. Suddenly, 30 pastel-decked guys were rushing the stage like a victorious soccer team at the World Cup. It was noisy. Very noisy. I honestly thought the stage would give way. Celebration indeed! It was particularly sweet for the pioneer Epic Relay team , who not only lost the championship under highly questionable circumstances, but also saw our runner-up finish completely unacknowledged . At least for one fine day, we were champions. Indeed, victory is sweet.

And in deference to a completely forgotten aspect of racing, something had slipped our mind, because it's usually reserved for the pros - we had won something! In this case, cash! A cool P15,000! Ah. The spoils of war.

Beep Beep can't take his eyes off the prize

We win at last.

Post-race breakfast at Paul Calvin's

Victory celebration at Joey Pep and launching of dri-fit TPB shirts

They say life goes around in karmic cycles. I guess this race is a prime example. Thank you to all those who have supported us through our ups and downs, we truly appreciate it. As for the team, it was an honor racing with you guys. I wonder where the next adventure will take us?

Wherever it may be, I'm pretty sure the boys in fuchsia will be ready for it.

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

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

Always the running event of the year

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

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

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

Newbies have it hard.

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

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

Retro Race Diary?

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

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

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

Yeng Constantino Fanboy?

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

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

(eerie silence)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Classic OJ here.
6:30 : Pain (p

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

What was really happening at 25k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I missed my goal in a bad way.

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

I was at peace. And overwhelmingly happy.

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

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

We have had our fair share of laughs on this site, as that's what most of our material on here aims to do. But it would be hard to goof around after the tempestuous events of the past 24 hours. Tropical Storm Ketsana, more popularly known in local parlance as Ondoy ( yeah, go figure) breezed through the country and pumped in a month's worth of rainfall in a mere 12 hours .

Not a pretty sight. Wait, is that a bus half- submerged?
And while a good majority of the populace escaped relatively unscathed, the aftermath left a lot of our friends, family and acquaintances in dire straits. Friends losing homes, vehicles, appliances to the deluge. I would like to think we are a tight-knit running community when push comes to shove, no matter how fractured we may be at times. So I'll be featuring some of the altruistic calls for relief spread throughout our running community.

Bald Runner's Team Hardcore To Run For Andoy Victims

As taken from ultraman extraordinaire Jonel aka Bugobugo's Facebook entry :
Team hardcore will make ENDURUNS 4.5.5 and the Laguna 200k relay a fund-raising activity for the victims of Ondoy.

For every kilometer we will run (250 kilometers) for October(Milo/QCIM/Subic42, Adidas21) and november (PIM42, Timex21) and the Laguna200(each runner does 40k),we ask that you donate 1 peso per kilometer. A collection booth will be set up sa Octoberun sa Sunday at the ROX parking lot. Thank you.

So there. Worthwhile cause, and our resident hardcore ultramen will do the heavy lifting for you. Kudos to Gigi aka The Fit Mommy for the breaking news.

Second Wind As A Hub For Relief Goods

First read this on Timmy aka The Kenkoy Runner's blog. Then I realized Hector of Second Wind emailed me the same thing. I should really check my mail more often. I'm just sorta sick of being bombarded with "YOU WON LOTTERY" emails. Anyway, here's Hector's announcement :

Greetings friends in the running community.

In light of the typhoon that has left most of us emotionally drained, we would like to encourage the running / multi-sport community to pitch in and help out.

Kindly help us spread the word that we are extending help to our friends who were affected by the typhoon ondoy. Lets maximize however we can help, announcements in your blog, multiply, tweeter, or your status in facebook will be greatly appreciated.

Secondwind will be accepting donations:

- blankets

- singlets, jerseys or shirts

- old footwear

- food

- other items that can still be used

we will be accepting until Thursday (end of day) and will donate to ateneo thru Neville Manaois, PUR team principal, secondwind teammate and ateneo professor. Volunteers to pack and help transfer goods on Friday will be most welcome.

Maraming salamat in advance sa lahat ng tulong na maaari niyong mabigay.

Salamat.

So everyone, do help Hector, Neville, and Mickey, some of the nicest guys I have ever met, in this noble pursuit of theirs. Remember, deadline is on Thursday, and any volunteers on Friday would be awesome.

Helping out our Takbo.ph Friends

Okay, this is a bit more personal for me because two of my good friends from Takbo.ph were severely affected by this calamity.
Story #1 : Cherry, better known by her handle Chelly had her house completely submerged, lost everything, and she had to seek refuge for several hours at the roof of her neighbor's house just to survive. As I write this, we're not even sure if she is already safe as we lost contact already. We can only imagine how traumatic and harrowing this experience could have been for her. Support of any kind would be most welcome to a fellow running denizen subjected to the punishing forces of nature.
Story # 2: Edu, or Ed as I fondly call him, is another one of our board regulars in bad shape right now. Floods swept away his house, and last we heard he was hanging on for dear life at a bedspacer room at the back of his house. We eventually lost contact so we have absolutely no idea what happened to him. We are all hoping and praying for the best.

If you want to help out, just check out the thread started out by humanitarian good guy Rico/Sheer Will.

So if you're thinking " Hmmmm why should I help, too bad life sucks bad break boo hoo ", let me remind you of the thin line between disaster and safety :

Because a bad break here, a weird touch of circumstance there, and you never know what could happen... .

So everyone - be thankful that we are all in one piece, and let's give a helping hand to our comrades who desperately need support right now.

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

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

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

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

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

Mcdonald's Pearl Drive, 6:50 pm

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

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

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

Rico : I won you know... ..

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

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

GBM: Of course it is!

Rico: Looks like a cheap advertising gimmick to me!

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

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

GBM: Next question please... .

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

And so it begins

Km 1.5 - Gold Loop Ortigas

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

Chillin' with Tri'n Hard

Km 4, Julia Vargas Ave

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

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

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

Daunting indeed.

Km 7.5, Motel/Baby Gravy Drive

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

Them hand signals are the best thing since Google

Km 12, C5. GBM.

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

We should have just stayed in Motel Drive!

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

Km 14, C5. Pio.

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

2009 rendition of Edvard Munch's "The Scream"

Km 15, C5. Just after Eastwood. Rico.

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

By Sheer Will he pushes on

Km 16, Turnaround Point. Bong.

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

Shaider has a new hobby

Km 17, start of C5 turnaround point

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

Km 19, Green Meadows. GBM.

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

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

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

Who da man? Who da man?

And the Rookie of the Year goes to.. .

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

Yummy Liempo Place

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

This was fun... ..

And... ...

We should do it again.

Main Entry: sin·glet
Pronunciation: \ˈsiŋ-glət\
Function: noun
Date: circa 1746

1 chiefly British : an athletic jersey; also : a collarless men's undergarment for the upper part of the body

Mr. Webster looks good in his old-school singlet

Chiefly British. Hmmm. Why was I not surprised? Only those dudes could take the sando and make it sound so sosy.So you're a singlet Ho. Yeah, admittedly. As I was writing my previous piece on newbie gaffes, I had mentioned there that the Adidas KOTR's singlet had taken my fancy. It's much akin to what you could buy at a store for like 700 or 800 bucks, and under that prevailing logic not only can you get the fancy singlet for a much cheaper price, you get a free fancy race as well.

As far as I know, you can get the singlets at their Running Expo this Saturday and Sunday at Megamall's Megatrade Hall, some ginormous event with fashion shows, running clinics and seminars. Not bad for 500 bucks eh? But dang, I can't wait that long! UGH. Must ... . get... hands... . on ... . KOTR singlet... ..

I still likey. NOW.
Anyway, my thought process was jarred from its otherwise halcyon state as the ghosts of singlets past suddenly came back to haunt me. Singlets come in all shapes and sizes. Some are training-run worthy, some go straight to the bottom shelf cabinet for posterity. Others are spectacular, while most just plain suck. I've even come across some that are "large" but couldn't fit my younger sister if I had one.

With that in mind, I'll try to run you through some of the singlets that I have come across in the past, and how they measure up.

Takbo.ph
Well, for me its still the coolest singlet ever, and I'm not just saying that because Boss Jinoe will fire me if I dont :P Our unofficial uniform during Sunday races, it's the "legacy" limited edition singlet that was given during the Condura Run Carbo-Loading Party several months back. I bet the singlet would do very well on the black market :P

The Airspeed Run
Anyone remember this? This came from the era where Coach Rio was dabbling in the utilitarian, "tipid meals shut up and dont whine you only paid 250 bucks for this" style of singlet. I mean seriously, ask anyone. These were virtually unwearable in real life. Fabric was substandard, and even after losing like 30 pounds I still could not squeeze myself into one. Sigh, the good ol' days.

Men's Health Miracle Run
Still remains to be one of my personal favorites. Was well made, had a cool design, and was an upgrade over the shirt that came with the first incarnation. Everyone was raving about it.. until they turned the singlet and saw a big "Frenzy" logo there. So much for wholesome family running fun. Oh, and yeah I'm still waiting for the official results.

Auto Review Run

Did you run this? Thought so too. But this is where my singlet hoeness came to the forefront. Saw the jpegs, thought it was awesome, left the office to register even if I had absolutely no intention of running it. Was somewhat disappointed with its substandard material and weird fit. Tito Caloy had fun running the race though.

Botak Ultramarathon 50k
Milestone run for me, and wonderful, personalized singlet that elicited quite a stir at the time. I still sleep with it under my pillow at night.

Globe Run For Home
I remember. Everyone was so excited about this race.Including me. First mainstream disposable chip-timed race. I was so excited that I risked running this on no training and still in recovery. Blew out my ITB as a result . Anyway, just as excitement was reaching fever pitch, the Coach Rio version 2.0 singlet was released. And tadah! Amidst tremendously high expectations, collective jaws dropped. Nuff said.

So with all these in mind, this finally brings us to...

Adidas King of the Road
Yahoo! Yay! Prayers answered! It's the greatest thing since sliced bread. Fit is wonderful too! It rocks so much that I may very well ghost register someone just to get a spare, in case something happens to it. Haha just kidding of course. Yeah. Haha.

But if you do see me on Saturday or Sunday at Megatrade Hall, let's just make it our dirty little Gingerbread secret okay? :P

If you have any "vintage"singlets you may want to see the light of day, send me images through the Gingerbread Mailbox on the home page and lets do something fun with it :)

Let's face it - we all run for different reasons. Some run for the obvious health benefits, some for the camaraderie, some for the er, girls (or boys). But for a certain competitive segment of the running community, the thrill of the sport has a lot to do with constantly outdoing your personal best.Oftentimes these runners are fast. Faster than you and me.In common running parlance, we often call them "monsters" or "halimaw" - non-elite yet highly competitive runners who take great satisfaction in continually redefining their limits each and every time they race.

This totally unofficial list aims to celebrate and recognize those who are engaged in this perpetual dalliance against time, and who put in the requisite blood, sweat, and tears en route to achieving their respective goals.The best part is - they're not dropping superhuman, Olympic-level times out there. They're ordinary folks like you and me, which means... it can be done!

So what do you get out of it? Nothing really. Pride? Honor? Bragging rights? Googability? And who knows, maybe a fun shirt down the line (hint) (wink) We'll be updating this as the data comes in, and I guess may provide you folks out there with something extra to shoot for.

Monsters are... fun.

As a purely-for-fun undertaking, there's one cardinal requirement aside from posting halimaw-like times - I need to have at least met you once in person, and a little sensible conversation never hurt :) Why? Well how will I get your time then with a certain measure of credibility if you're an, er, complete stranger? It's also in the spirit of fostering this fun community we have. I can't be posting sub-40 times from anonymous entries sent online, in the vernacular baka alamat lang ung PR diba :) If we've met, and your times qualify but you're not on the list leave a comment so I can update it, am not very good with numbers. I know several more who qualify, I just have no way to contact them. By the way, a ladies list is in the works as well so wait up for that as well.

P.S. - Ranking will not include elite runners, running legends or fun people :P Sorry Zorro.

I not happy at all.

So without further ado, here's the inaugural Totally Unofficial GBM Monster List, grouped by distance. Hope you have fun with it! :
5k Monsters :
1. Jon "under160" Trimble - 17:09
2. Graciano "Totoy" Santos - 17:20
3. Mari Javier - 18:xx
4. Edward "Conquer Corregidor" Kho - 19:xx
5. Chris Iblan - 20:00
6. Wilnar Iglesia - 20:36
7. Patrick Alcomendas - 20:58
8. Jixee Lagunda - 21:02
9. Mark "Mark's Vo2" Parco - 21:08
10. Junrox "Tigerboy" Roque - 21:42
11.Dennis "RunningPinoy" Ravanzo - 22:22
12.Natz "i2runner" Garcia - 22:30
13.Alfred "El Kyoshi" De los Reyes - 22:18
14. Jonel "Bugobugo"Mendoza - 22:xx
15.Mark "Running My Mouth" Hernandez - 23:04
16. Brando "Ace" Losaria - 23:33

10k Monsters
1. Jon "under1630" Trimble - 35:51
2. Graciano "Totoy" Santos - 38:14
3. Mari Javier - 38:xx
4. Wilnar Iglesia -42:04
5. Chris Iblan - 42:30
6. Alfred "El Kyoshi" De los Reyes - 42:47
7. Vener "Run Unlimited" Roldan - 42:xx
8. Edward "Conquer Corregidor" Kho - 43:16
9. Jonel "Bugobugo" Mendoza - 43:xx
10. Raymund "Reel Running" Bontol - 44:21
11. Jairuz Agang-ang - 44:25
12.Mark "Mark's Vo2" Parco - 44:43
13.Patrick Alcomendas - 46:53
14. Junrox "Tigerboy" Roque - 46:58
15. Natz "i2runner" Garcia - 47:33
16. Brando "Ace" Losaria - 47:34
17. Piolo "Idol" Pascual - 47:54
18. Dennis "RunningPinoy" Ravanzo - 48:38
19. Jixee Lagunda - 48:51
20. Mark "RunningmyMouth" Hernandez - 49:15
21. Elmer "Life Runner" Ching - 49:43
21. Mccoy Lontoc - 50:xx
22. Raymond de Pana - 50:xx
23. Jinoe "Manokan Runner" Gavan - 52:xx
24. Sam "The Running Ninja" Delena- 53:34
25. Rodel "Argonaut" Cuaton - 53:40
26. Bong "BZ" Zandueta - 54:30

21k Monsters
1. Graciano "Totoy" Santos - 1:21:32
2. Jon "under1630" Trimble - 1:23:41
3. Chris Iblan - 1:27:35
4. Mari Javier - 1:29:xx
5. Gian "Cartgian" Saquilon - 1:31:10
6. Edward "Conquer Corregidor" Kho - 1:32:49
7. Alfred "El Kyoshi" De Los Reyes - 1:39:25
8. Jerry "High Altitude" Karundeing - 1:39:29
9. Mark "Mark's Vo2" Parco - 1:39:38
10. Junrox "Tigerboy" Roque - 1:39:40
11. Jonel "Bugobugo" Mendoza - 1:40:xx
12. Wilnar Iglesia - 1:43:xx
13.Patrick Alcomendas - 1:44:xx
14. Natz "i2runner" Garcia - 1:45:04
15. Raymund "Reel Running" Bontol - 1:50:00
16. Jixee Lagunda - 1:50:23
17. Eric De Belen - 1:55 :xx
18. Bryan "Planet Trumania" Rivera - 1:56:35
19. Sam "The Running Ninja" Delena - 1:56:xx
20. Mark "Running my Mouth" Hernandez - 1:57:31
21. Dennis "Running Pinoy" Ravanzo - 1:58:40
22. Edu "Doods" Fabian - 1:59:xx

42k Monsters
1. Jon "under1630" Trimble - 3:09:39
2. Graciano "Totoy" Santos - 3:19:25
3. Mari Javier - 3:27:xx
4. Edward "Conquer Corregidor" Kho - 3:27:xx
5. Vener "Run Unlimited" Roldan - 3:36:41
6. Wilnar Iglesia - 3:38:16
7. Chris Iblan - 3:39:43
8. Junrox "Tigerboy" Roque - 3:45:06
9. Alfred "El Kyoshi" De los Reyes - 3:49:10
10. Jonel "Bugobugo" Mendoza - 3:53:xx
11. Gian "Cartigian" Saquilon - 3:53:13
12. Natz "i2runner" Garcia : 3:56:53
13. Mark "Mark's Vo2" Parco - 4:07: xx
14. Bryan "Planet Trumania" RIvera - 4:12:xx
15. Dennis "Running Pinoy" Ravanzo - 4:25:59
16. Patrick Alcomendas - 4:32:xx
17. Frederick "Gab" Gabriel - 4:44:xx
18. Dennis "RunningFatboy" Quepe - 4:52:xx
19. Raymund "Reel Running" Bontol - 4:55:57
20. Edu "Doods" Fabian - 4:58:xx
21. Rodel "Argonaut" Cuaton - 4:58:xx

Actually, "not a fan" is an understatement. Ever since I started running a couple of years ago, the apshalt, concrete and grass always seemed to beckon with a certain openness. The trails seemed to always reject me much in the same way that Lebron rejected the Cavs. Okay maybe not that harsh, but you get the idea.

Ever since me and Abby drudged our way through the New Balance Trail Adventure at Nuvali, people have always been asking me "Why? Trails are awesome!". And as much as New Balance and race director extraordinaire Neville Manaois did a spectacular job in organizing the race amidst a spectacular backdrop, it just seems that one man's pleasure is another's poison. Let me count the ways... .

What Fun...

Trail shoes... . or the lack thereof.
It's like the veritable chicken-or-egg debate. I constantly whine on trails because my feet hurt in the absence of a serviceable pair of trail shoes. A poor flat-footed lackey like me will surely struggle with the treacherous terrain. But then again, I never really got about to buying a pair... .. for the simple reason that I practically never run trails. Hmmmmm.

This little piggy wore badminton shoes to the trail... ..

I don't like getting my feet wet in bacteria-infested swamps

Usually, wet feet and wet socks equate into wet blisters for me. So I sort of abhor any form of liquid on my shoes. Last time, I literally had to plunge my entire foot into the murky looking brook/swamp thing. And while I am not as mysophobic as Emma from Glee, wading through seemingly malaria-infested waters is sorta not my thing. Although it seems I'm a tad bit maarte for my purported Gingerbread tough guy image, I guess I grew up watching too many National Geographic specials on PTV-4.

Germs! Germs!If I wanted to climb rocks... ..
I would have been a mountain climber, and not a runner. I didn't know that the words "trail" and "climbing" would somehow go hand in hand. I had to make hawak the yucky rocks and eewy ropes. So kadiri. :P

Cleaning the mud off my shoes right after is not my kind of thing
Once again, in the absence of trail shoes I use my standard lighweight road shoes. Being totally immersed in mud, the cleaning part right after doesn't exactly enthuse me. And somehow, even after a day at the cleaners, there's this weird notion that the shoes are never the same again. Much akin to a person who was subject to a harrowing event and was traumatized for the rest of their life. Why do I get the notion that my shoes go through the same thing? I refuse to put my plush road shoes through any form of psychological trauma that would scar them forever. Case closed.

Shoes look great in muck.
And last, and probably most importantly... .

I'm speed bagal in trail runs

Not that I'm necessarily fast, but I don't like going slow either. During the latest New Balance trail gig , I believe we finished the entire 16k race in just over an three hours. Three hours! For a 10-miler! What fun! That's if you equate drudgery with fun that is.

Ayaw na...

In all seriousness though, comparing road and trail runs would be like looking at apples and oranges. They are distinctly different, and all appeal to a certain running palate much in the same way that some of you may not have the stomach for that certain 102k race we completed awhile back. But isn't that the beauty of running? You can always find your own niche, be it a 5k sprint, a 102k ultramarathon or a 16k trail run. Happiness is relative, and running will always give you that option.

Muddy tracks and all. :)

"Orienteering is the sport of navigation with map and compass. The competitive athlete can experience the exhilaration of moving through the woods at top speed! If you love maps, exploring, and the great outdoors, try orienteering. You'll be hooked for life!"- US Orienteering Federation Website

Hooked for life. Hmmm . These thoughts resonated within me as I browsed through the link that buddy/restaurant magnate Bong Z sent me. Still in ITB recovery and saddled with a heavy workload, I have been embroiled in a new hobby search to serve as a temporary outlet. I'm willing to try practically anything. Even... orienteering. Whatever that is. So how did this picture come about, and why do I seem to have a certain level of angst towards this sign?

I not likey you CP2But hey, we're getting ahead of ourselves. It all started with this conversation... .

Bong Z : Yo GBM, wanna join our adventure race team? Me, Eo and Joyce are in already.

GBM: Adventure race? Like The Amazing Race? Woah!

Bong Z: Er, yeah! Only with map and compass!

GBM: But I don't know how to read no map and compass! I don't even know how to use GPS!

Bong Z: I'll take care of it! I read a couple of websites!

GBM: You READ a couple of websites?

Bong Z:Yeah! It's pretty simple really.

GBM: Uhmmmmmmoookay. What are we going to do exactly?

Bong Z: Dude, I have absolutely no idea. But it should be fun!

GBM: Er, okay. What time we leaving?

Bong Z: 4 am! :)

GBM: !!!!!!!!

Bong Z and GBM to follow in their footsteps?

And with that, ou r story unravels. Here's more or less what happened (save for some things , okay a lot of things that I completely made up) as told by members of the team itself.

Mcdonald's Buendia-EDSA. 4:00 am. GBM

Oh god it is so freaking early! How do I get myself into these things? I have like 2 hours of sleep! Bong Z just called, where am I? Where am I? It's 4 am! I should be in bed! Fair-sized Takbo. ph crowd here already. We all look like zombies. And, woah, is that our bus? Hey cool! It looks like we're going to do a Mexican border crossing! We're going to Tijuanaaaa!

Where's the Korean Tourist coaster when you need it?
Coastal Road, 5am. Eo.
Been training with these guys from time to time, nice to join them in a non-running setting. Nice to get those ITB thoughts out of the way for once. Glad mine's much better. GBM's ITB? Different story. Did you see him at Kenny? Dude was huffing pretty bad. Horrible. He eat my dust. Harhar. Hmmm. Just realized I'm the elder statesman of the group. Well, with my nice tan I hope they think Bong Z is my older brother. Well isn't this swell. It's raining cats and dogs. Is it still on?

I dont like dark, rainy places... .
Matagondon, Cavite Town Hall. 6 am. Bong Z.
Wohoo! Adventure here we come! I can't believe I talked that shmuck GBM into joining this! Even if he whines a lot, maybe I could put him to good use!Hahahaha.He thinks it's some adventure race! But the reality is ... the reality is... . Er, the reality is I have no idea what I'm getting ourselves into. I'll just try to remember everything I read in that website . and will try to get away with it by playing the cool leader dude part! Great! We're here on time! And... we're the only ones here. Where's everybody?

Belo? Who's that?Matagondon, Cavite Town Hall. 7 am. Joyce.

This is going to be a good day for me. Nice adventure race, good weather - what could possibly go wrong? Being the only girl in this group, it would be easy to underestimate me. Little do they know that being an Ayala Mountaineer since 2001, I may very well end up saving their hinds out there. But hey, being in the company of eye-pleasing, "mature" men, I'll gladly play the "clueless damsel" role to stoke their ego. Wohoo!

Clueless Damsel? More like 3 clueless guys!

Matagondon, Cavite Town Hall. 830 am. GBM.
Oh god this is so freaking boring. What's taking so long to start?We should have just come later . PoorTakbo.ph gang. Everyone has little to no sleep. I think we've zapped out our batteries taking so many pictures. People are sleeping on the floor, some may even be going insane. Some are... playing patintero?

Boredom does... .. things to people

Matagondon, Cavite Town Hall. 930 am. Bong Z .

People are getting awfully bored here. I have no sleep at all! Too excited. At least they're starting the orientation already. Sounds pretty interesting. Apparently, they delayed the race because the water levels were too dangerous for us to cross. See, they think of us! This guy is making it sound way too easy... . I'll just call him "Chief" because he seems to be the head honcho around these places. There's something about him... hmm..

Why do I get the feeling he'll be my favorite guy by the time this is over?
Maragondon Town Proper, 11:00. Eo.
After what seemed like an eternity we are finally off. We all agreed that we would sprint this first part while we are still in the city. GBM and Bong Z are off like madmen! I need to keep Joyce company, these dudes think we're doing a 10k or something.We need to find this place where Bonifacio was tried and get a map from there. How... historical.

Coolness.

Beloved leader Bong Z signing us off

2nd Hanging Bridge, 11:30, Going to CP1. Joyce
This is way beyond cool. After getting a bit lost, we're well on our way to Control Point 1. First of eleven we need to meet. We took the wrong hanging bridge first time around. This is the right one! Tremendous view! Eo is hanging on for dear life while we're taking pictures. Aww he's so cute!

I'll eat insects or balut but this is way too much for me!

2nd Hanging Bridge, 11:31, Going to CP1. Eo.
I HATE HEIGHTS. WHY ME LORD WHY ME?

Just one step... . one tiny step... .
CP1, 11:40. GBM.
Wohoo this is awesome! Locals are egging us on, kids playing with us, I feel like my Amazing Race dreams are being realized! And guess what? We're currently in 2nd place! Yeah! Don't count out these newbies!

Planning our next move.
I'll cut the recollection there because my pseudo narrators are getting tired, that's one of the last times that we actually smiled during the race , and I don't want to bore you with an epic entry.
So you'll have to make do with my quickie synthesis here .

CP1 to CP2.
This was the hardest part. A lot of teams were stumped looking for this "mythical" control point. We spent an unfathomable 4 HOURS looking for it. We had already given up at about lunch time. Bong was washing his face in the river and had kept his compass. Joyc and Eo were chilling. Then we ran into our aformentioned buddy, "Chief". He was dropping hints that we were "nearby" already, and that no team had found it yet. "Nearby" meant another 2 hours of seemingly endless dense foliage in a veritable Amazon rainforest. In a decision of sheer stupidity, I had worn shorts. This made me fair game to all sorts of creepy crawlies and thorny bushes. This made me very crabby. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally found it in a hidden place that no one in the right mind could have found off the bat.We were too dead tired to celebrate. In order to find CP2, we had to...

Pass through bamboo bridges ... .

Cross through streams...

Contend with creatures of the wild... .

Pass through insane uphill muddy trails... ..

Survive lush itchy foliage

All for this.
CP2 - Finish
This was pretty much elementary. CP3 was about a kilometer from CP2, and after that we decided to call it a day. We were with Chief by this time, and he urged us to go for at least CP4 because "malapit na lang". By my estimate, it took us more than 30 minutes to get there, and it was turning dark already. I was dead tired. A branch fell on my head, probably Mom Nature's revenge for whining about her kids the whole time. From that point, me and Bong sprinted to the finish line, relieved that the whole experience was behind us.

Night beckons... .

Epilogue

Coming back, the battle-weary Takbo.ph crew was smarting from the DNF. As runners, a DNF is like a source of shame that we would do anything to avoid. Of course, this wasn't our turf. But our competitive nature remains. Gab and Cindy's team actualy took 3rd , and Pat, Doc Eire and Bryan gutted it out till the end. The exhausting, punishing setting was ripe for drama and discord, and I am proud of my team for sticking through the whole thing. The trip home was a relaxing one, a nice opportunity to bond and share a laugh with my running friends in a non-running setting. And strangely enough, despite spraining an ankle, getting a branch fall on my head, insect bites and bruises galore, barehand-climbing a rocky hill, and falling into mud too many times to remember - if you told me that I'd be teammates with these folks once more ... .

I'd do it all over again :)

So, are you hooked for life? See you next year! Malapit na yun! :)

I never thought I could ever balance myself on two wheels. You ever saw that 8-year old kid stuck in the playground trying to not fall after yaya let go of the bike while his playmates were zooming up and down? That was me .With zero athletic skills whatsoever, I was relegated to being this fat Gingerbread kid stuck indoors reading Encyclopedia Brittanica (meron pa ba nun?) while downing half a gallon of ice cream. By the time I did finally get the whole bike thing down, it wasn't too long before I hit semplang city en route to breaking my wrist in three places. Bike was sold the following day. Sob.

Putting all of that into consideration, never in my wildest imagination did I ever envision that two decades later I would be entrenched in an actual multisport battle with my former Waterloo serving as one of the primary instruments. But wait, we're getting a little ahead of ourselves here. What malignant spirit (in tagahlog, maligno) possessed me to get into the whole thing anyway? Let's take a quick look back.

Who would have known?
I've been running for quite some time now. Well at least for someone who could never quite stick with a singular "hobby", I'd like to think that the fact that I've been at this for several years goes to show that it has already transcended the "hobby" label iand has actually evolve into a sustainable lifestyle. Back then, it wouldn't be too uncommon to spot this marshmallow-like 200 pounder to tread the sweep packs of them P250 races. No iPad registration, no fancy whatever. You got your finish times with the tried and tested, mano mano "timing cheap"system. Rio could still walk around race corrals without getting mobbed, and the word "singlet" was pretty much an unknown commodity to the mainstream public.

In the years hence, running has literally taken over my life. I've gone from the guy who once ran from Ortigas to Cubao in three hours and declared it "his greatest running achievement " (a lame 10k) to completing the dreaded 102k Bataan Death March Ultramarathon in sweltering conditions. I've made so many friends and been part of so many meaningful experiences as a part of this burgeoning community, and as luck would have it a lot of the mid-term running goals I had set for myself were thankfully met.

Run Fatboy GBM Run circa early-mid 2008
However, I realized that as you keep on pushing and pushing , one day it would just push back at you. Suddenly, hitting those cherished PR's became progressively harder, and the feeling of burnout started to surreptitiously creep up on me. The toll of being in 8 to 12 week training blocks practically all year for the past couple started to manifest already. Once the smoke cleared, the verdict was pretty clear.

I needed to take a break. But then what?

No way in heck was I going back to my sedentary, couch potato lifestyle. Worked too long and too hard to throw it all away. No chance of completely giving up running either, I love the sport too much to be completely away from it.

Then it dawned on me that a perfect compromise was actually possible. I can actually try something new without turning my back on running. And with that realization, I decided to dive into the uncharted waters of multisport.

We can all dream... ..

Multisport? Woah now. As the notion of competing with ultrafit triathletes with 5% body fat came to mind, two immediate problems came bubbling up before I could even kick out of the daydream (read: Inception reference). One, I didn't have a bike. Two, I haven't rode one in twenty years and the last time I did, it landed me in the hospital. Not exactly the ideal lasting memory for a wannabe noob like me right?

Not-so-fond biking memories

I gave it a long hard look. Stick with what I know, or be a newbie all over again? Being the competitive guy that I am, I hate being the clumsy new guy . Loathe it even. I mean, I'm the guy who didn't raise his hand when they asked who were the first timers in spin class. But alas, what's the spice to life if we don't explore the deep dark unknown right?

So to make a long story short, I just went out on a limb and went for it. After endless questions and consults from seasoned multisport friends (thank you for the patience), I finally got my own road bike. Realizing the penchant for people to give their roadies names, jumping on the bandwagon wasn't too far off. The new roadie was christened "Bob". Why Bob? I haven't the slightest idea. But it sure as heck sounded a lot better than "Grimace".

Why hellow Bob.
Along with the first few awkward rides came the abrupt realization that there was so much more to a roadie than your typical CCP Sunday bike. There were tons of nuances with seatpost height, riding position, enough parts to fill a book and a shifting system that at first glance seemed terribly complicated to crack. Who would have known a simple bike would have so much science to it?

Its, er, complicated.

Now what's a roadie if you ain't going to use it right? I got wind through the grapevine about the 2nd leg of the Powerade Duathlon series. A duathlon. Wow. Run Bike Run? How hard could it be? How would I do? What's a T1? My insatiable curiosity won out on this instance, and I soon found myself coughing up a cool P1,000 for the reg. If you those P850 "premium" races give you grief, better be prepared for a shock with multisport, where managing more logistics account for the higher fees.

Gulp.
Knowing that people put months and months worth of training into this sort of event, my boorish, ill-prepared self just wanted to set a benchmark. After all, experience is still the best teacher right? In two weeks I tried to unscientifically cram as much mileage and "brick" (to the uninitiated, combined discipline workouts to replicate the actual race. They usually make you feel like you were hit like a ton of bricks afterward. Or maybe that's just me) sessions into my routine, if only to be prepared at least mentally.

Brick 1 GBM 0.

D-Day comes around. I'm a nervous wreck. Each nervous tic, each anxiety-fueled fidget was amplified by what seemed to be an eternal wait for slumber to take me out of my misery. I've been in more races than I could remember but this was as an entirely new thing for moi. Armed with just guts and pretty much nothing else, so many questions crossed my mind as we were making the pleasant drive to Filinvest on a cool Sunday pre-dawn. "How do we check in? Paano nilalagay ung body marking thing? How do put the bike on the rack? Can we run in the transition area?" So many questions that only the hard knocks gained from experience could alleviate. Abby must have been remotely amused as the butterflies in my stomach were getting the best of me.

UGH. I hate being the newbie guy.

Kabado.
We got there early. WAY early even. As I would come to realize with these multisport things, they never seem to start early. Good thing old Takbo.ph buddies who had gone the multisport route were also competing, and they provided the "homey"atmosphere that proved to be a salve for my nerves. As it was, Team Endure was also making its debut race replete with fancy triathlon suits. I wondered to myself when I would be worthy to put on one.

Trying my best not to be a nervous looking clueless dude

With the help of friends, the body marking and bike rack issues I was so antsy about turned out to be overstated. And before we knew it, we were off to the starting corral . 6k run beckoned. Now, this may not seem a lot. But obviously, this was the first time that I would be doing a 30k bike ride in between. I was advised to hack it on the safe side and go for a 5:15 pace. Be competitive fool that I am, I figured that I'll suck out on the bike anyway, what have I got to lose. So a tempered attack was worked out bordering on the 4:40 level.

Attack where you are strong... .
While relatively slow by road race standards, for some reason this was good enough to vault me into the upper half of the draw going into the first transition point from run to bike, or T1 in multisport jargon. Upon mounting, much to my chagrin I got bunched together with some of the stronger triathletes/duathletes. I freaked. They were passing me left and right, barking "BIKE BIKE BIKE" or "STAY IN YOUR LANE!!" Gak.

Speed Bagal Mode.

The primary goal was to survive the bike segment in one piece. So I played the role of the non-recalcitrant newbie to the hilt, allowing myself to be passed almost courteously. Geez. Oh well, I was in too much pain to mind anyway. The course was mostly flat, but there were two major inclines that zapped the bejesus out of me. The steeper one was impossibly difficult for someone like me with no bike shoes (and as I would learn later, the lack of uphill gears) to negotiate. At times,I felt it would have been better to just get off the bike and carry it with me uphill. Good thing the rest of the course was pleasant enough, with friends cheering me on at each of the 5 loops we had to complete. Last couple my legs were burning though, and the moment I dismounted to T2 I nearly fell over behind rubbery legs. Thank God no major mishaps here. One last 3k and I was good to go.

Konti na lang.

Surprisingly, I was a lot fresher here than expected. Got to maintain about a 5:15 pace for the rest of the way as the gels I took started to take effect. At this point I was thanking my lucky stars for my running base as I got to catch up with a lot of the strong cyclists who made me eat dust during the bike leg. Adrenalin pumping, it was all over before I knew it. Crossed the line with a big bear hug from Ultramarathoner Abby in 1:56:29, good for 86th overall and 16th place in my age group. I thought it was a decent finish for a noob, given the circumstances. And more importantly, it put to shame the debut time of my good buddy Piolow who logged a 2:06 during the first leg. Wohoo!

Noob no more.

Sigh. Who knew that the kid who once couldn't balance would one day survive a competitive race like this? Much less on two weeks preparation. I give all the thanks in the world to my Team Endure buddies for enduring (no pun intended) and patiently answering all my questions. Also a big shout out to Ironman Javy Olives of Tri'n Hard fame (IMHO one of the best written multisport blogs out there.) for all the knowledgeable and practical bike tips he gave me.

Cross that one off the bucket list. The glean of the triathlon now beckons. How riveting. One slight problem.

I don't know how to swim.

(to be continued)

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

Emeperador - 1, Tito Caloy - 0

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

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

Ellen and Doc Roy with Migz lurking

Natz, Doc Lyndon and Rico

Matinee idol/speedster Bong with Pepsi and Ms. Morrison

The "Hard Core" Takbo.ph team

Me with Second Wind proprietor/ultramarathoner Hector

Running Couple Neil and Rach at Mcdo Net One

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

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

You all know the story. We have heard the rants. Internalized the numerous streams of venom put forth by the angry masses. Admittedly, I am one of them. The lack of foresight caused 57 runners in my category to DNF, the scorching heat too much for them. We could only guess what medical malady befell them. The same lack of foresight had my friend overcome by heat stroke and hyperventilation 500 meters from the finish line, resulting in a 2 hour stint at Makati Med. Ironically, if only the course had been accurate he should have finished it straight up. If there's one saving grace, they released results which took into account the excess 500 - 600 m on the route. The resulting distance adjustment gave me a PR of 2:14:36, which I hazard compensates for the initial time lost. Anyway, here was my after-race take on the whole thing as posted on the Takbo.ph forums : As has been customary for me already (and the lack of a blog notwithstanding), here's a comprehensive post on my Botak 21k race. A fair amount of vitriol has already been spewed by Deo and supahatdog in the earlier posts, so I'll give you my take on it. The first warning sign for me was when I heard from the gang that the 21k start time was 6 am bigla. Only 2 days before I had called the Botak office and was informed of a 5 am start. So I was sort of weirded out by that. Everyone was getting conflicting information. So I decided I'll arrive at 5am just to be sure. I was alarmed because at 6am, people would be running well into the 8 am - 9 am range already. Would this be a portent of things to come? So we started at 6 am. 5:58 on my 305. Attempted to pace Sam for 5k, he fell back at 1 1/2 k mark. First k was 4:35, 2nd k was 5:02. He was the only guy I remotely ran with. 97% of the race I was alone

At 10k mark I was at 55:34 and liking my chances. Running in Rockwell was neat as well, kahit uphill siya. Coming off a pretty nice run the previous week at ATC, my goal was to significantly improve my Greenfield PR of 2:19 something. Then it happened. What happened? The heat happened. Yes, the heat. Good ol' 32 degrees with 66% humidity. I never knew what the desert felt like until awhile ago. It was crippling, debilitating, paralyzing (I'm running out of adjectives) to the point of hilarity. At the 10k mark I was maintaining a healthy 5:30 or so pace. By the time the race was over I had surrendered a full minute off that

So what happened to me from 10k to 16k? - Hookers in Burgos waved at me. I waved back. - Jeepneys in Burgos nearly sideswiped me. I couldn't sideswipe back. - The area near South avenue I got several seemingly innocuous comments of "Japorms" from fun bystanders. - I had at least 2 guys (21k dudes also) ask me "Bakit ang dami mong tali?" (Does this mean they either got lost or took a shortcut? Guess the race marshals took off for colder fronts) - I had agonizing km splits reaching up to 8:24

So sue me, I couldn't breathe anymore, it was like the oxygen was sucked out of the surroundings already. My original plan was to pick up the pace from the 17k mark onwards and "earn back" the pace I had lost. I was marginally, nominally successful at best. The heat and humidity were too much. The best I could muster with all my might was a 6:25, followed by mid 7's till the end. From the 16- 21 k mark these were the sights : - Runners fighting the people at the water stations because there's no water - Runners walking Kalayaan Flyover - Runners walking everywhere - Runners quitting and sitting on the curb to take a break. - "Ang init no?" entrenching itself as the unintentional comedy quote of the day. - An "elite" looking guy (crew cut, short shorts) paced by me at the 18k mark and asked, "May tubig ka ba?" in a seemingly imposing and authoritative way. So I um, gave him the Gatorade I was saving for my final push. He muttered what seemed like a rudimentary form of "thank you" and promptly sped off. Nice guy. With the sun in all its bedazzling glory, for the first time in my life I have felt how it was to run in a desert with no breathable air. My goals suddenly shifted from setting a PR to merely getting out of there in one piece. It was debilitating to say the least. A test of sheer will if you may. In the cornucopia of things that make up the runner's psyche, one has to think "Should I go for broke and risk collapsing, or should I just focus on survival?" I was feeling horrible, I thought I would pass out several times. Mentally, I was pushed to the very limit. The death zone from 19k - 21k had "QUIT" written all over it. In the end, prudence won out over glory. In spite of the crushing circumstances, I was somehow blessed to finish the race at 2:17:28 chopping off 2 mins and 20 seconds off my current 21k PR. I felt horrible. And to make matters worse, when I crossed the finish line a kid was running recklessly towards me, causing me to jump to avoid him. This in turn triggered a strain in my hammy I still feel as I am typing this. Final Thoughts? - I will never ever run a 21k race that starts at 6am during the summer. - Running with jeeps beside you is not fun at all - The course was 21.47 on my 305. That's nearly half a kilometer. A half kilometer that translates into 3-4 minutes lost on your time. Sayang naman. - I was super worried about Doc Roy, Doc Sherwin, and Coach Pojie for their 42k run, given the punishing conditions and no water support. I am so happy and proud that they finished it in one piece and got their medals Way to go guys! - Congratulations to Edu for setting a new 10 K PR taking it in 56 something and finally breaching the 57 mark! Good job! - I am proud that other 21k runners like Deo,Boss Rico, Tim, Bong and Sam among others fought through the punishing elements to finish. Lesser men would have quit.Your determination and will is something that makes us all proud.

As I attempt to write this, one glance at the clock reveals I have exactly 25 minutes to somehow pull this off before lunch break ends. Aaaah... . trappings of the harassed yet decidedly sanguine corporate warrior. 24 Minutes. Yikes.

Why hello old friends. Did my five fans miss me? Running four months without a single article, I find it hard to fathom I could go on that long without any output. Alas, that's the reality I dwell in nowadays. No articles, no presscons, no fluff pieces, no nothing. My last official piece of written work was the cover story I did on Ani De Leon for Frontrunner, and even that I only saw about a month after it came out on stores. Contrary to popular belief, I have not retired nor have I been holed up in some cave. What happened was... .. I got a new job. Goodbye academe (at least for the meantime) and hello corporate life. Anyway, the long and short of it is that I'm suddenly encumbered with an exponentially more challenging gig coupled with the fact that my workplace is now on the other side of the map. The flexibility that living 5 minutes away from your office has brought for the last couple of years is now a distant memory.

It's a new way of life, yes. Somehow lost in the muck was the fact that I'm still actually training for an Ironman. Or rather, the Ironman 70.3 to be held at Camsur this August 14th to be more accurate. Oh my. Training? Ano yun? From being in the best shape of my life several months ago, I am merely fighting to finish at these races. I can only cringe at not being able to pull my weight for my Quest 825 Tri Team, more so with so many synergistic partnerships on board for us. Robbed of all forms of mileage, each step towards that finish line is more akin to a test of the human spirit rather than a competitive test of fitness. Sigh. How much I envy this dude.

Nevertheless, you guys know I'm as game as anyone out there so I'll still give it my best shot. I've hacked out my last two races on shameless guts alone, because to be very honest with you, I don't have much of anything left. Foolhardy perhaps, but somehow I always have this crazy notion that I could pull it off. And while the results haven't been pretty, I'm still hanging in there. A sub-3 hour target finish at the Olympic-distance Subic International Triathlon turned into a 3:08 debacle with an unexpected implosion during the run portion. Lack of training? Check.

Hanggang porma na lang. Next in line was the Tri United Matabungkay triathlon, a 2k-60k-15k humdinger that serves as the warmup race for Camsur. A lingering back injury (I'll explain later) rendered my bike leg into pretty much a leisurely spin, and once again cramps did me in over the final 5k of the run portion. BDM 160 champ/Quest Tri buddy Wilnar even barbequed me with a kilometer to go despite gaining more than 30 minutes on him from the swim. Yeah, that bad. Lack of training? Um, check. I was even compelled to do pushups at the line, a consequence from a friendly bet the team had for the bottom three finishers. Wilnar owes me a drink. Not that I'm complaining though - in spite of all the crap that went down I still somehow managed to hit the elusive qualifying time for the Timex 226 triathlon in Bohol by the skin of my teeth. Timex 226 is the first full Ironman distance (3.8k-180k-42k) race in the country over the past nine years so its a big honor just to make it there. And with thirty-four seconds to spare, it could have gone either way. Whew.

Which brings me back to Camsur. It's supposed to be the far reaching goal, the big shebang. And suddenly I'm on the hook for an even greater challenge this December. In a season where I also finished my first 160k race, this seemingly perverse proclivity towards pain and suffering is starting to ignite deep, burning questions within myself. Like, "WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU?" But hey, it's a fun life and we only live once right? Might as well go through it with a bang.

With roughly a 70% reduction in training hours and mileage, this one goes out to all the corporate warriors out there - how the hell could you reconcile a microscopic training window while training for a long distance triathlon without your wife kicking you out of the house? Here are some rudimentary tips I have cobbled together. I'm not saying they would necessarily work for you, but I think what I'm trying to say here is you pretty much don't have a choice. Smirk.

Don't let it happen.
The Art of The Three-Hour ,Er, Sleep

With so little time on your hands your first priority should always be to fulfill all family duties and work you bring home, keeping the missus (or mister) plus the kids happy. Where does that leave your training regimen? If you're a zero work flexibility dude like me, it's usually the first to get wiped out. The solution? Learn how to sleep on three hours so you can still wake up at 4 am in the morning to do your 60k-15k brick at MOA.
Now, if you end up falling asleep at your board meeting, load up on two bottles of Cobra beforehand. Drink it. Straight. Bottoms up. Everything. Better to be a doped up zombie than a sleeping fool.

It never hurts.

Lunch Out... . To Run With every minute ever so precious, try to sneak in some much-needed heat training mileage for the Camsur "Energy Lab" by eschewing lunch altogether. Screw food, gels are cooler. While everyone is engrossed in water cooler chatter and tsismis step out of those Van Heusen' s (or high heels) and discreetly step into those K-Ona's. Wear a visor low to render you unrecognizable to a potentially lunch-outing boss. Once done, rush to the office john and splash on as much water as you could on your face, then come out whistling "ang init, sarap maghilamos no?"

Pasimple lang. Maximize your weekend. Understatement of the year. If you work half-day Saturdays like me, that leaves you with roughly a six-hour Saturday window and a half-day Sunday window (if you actually go to church. Or have a family. Or a semblance of a life. If not, kindly ignore. In the most anti-scientific manner possible, cram all three sports plus a gym workout into that window. It works great. promise. You can finish your race if you don't mind extreme discomfort, pain, suffering, agony or the specter of some random injury popping up. During the weeks leading up to Tri United and during the race itself, my back had as much pliability as my octogenarian grandpa. As i said, I don't necessarily endorse this. It sucks, it really does. But to theeveryday working dude/dudette out there, do we really have a choice? See you at the line in Camsur people, I sure as heck hope that there are no more pushups waiting for me there. And if I may add, it feels mighty damn good to be blogging again. :)

I attended the presscon for this event last night along with Abby at Passion Restaurant at Maxims- touted as the country's only 6-star hotel at Resorts World Manila. Familiar faces abound, with both old and new bloggers in the mix. Vicky of 2009 PBA finalist Succulence Unleashed rode with us, and aside from the minor hiccup of being lost (we went straight to SLEX Bicutan from C5. Smart guy) ,we didn't encounter too much trouble aside from the fact that all three of us were veritable starvin' marvins.

This wasn't our first visit to Resorts World so I was pretty familiar with the place. Newport City, as the Marketing AVP put it, "is the best kept secret in Manila". It's hard to disagree, and I won't be surprised if the place would be teeming with people in a few months. Walking around, it has this international feel to it. Close your eyes, look around and you might forget you're actually in Manila. The fancy casinos are a given, but the sprawling complex boasts of an extremely fancy cinema ( with an on-call butler, rumor has it) and numerous shows for everyone's entertainment.I'm in no way a food blogger (although sometimes I wish I were), but may I say that the food at Passion was superb. The pansit was perhaps the best I had tasted all year, and the siomai, dumplings and prawn cakes all hit the spot.

It's a must try.While we were eating, some gals were passing around forms. Turns out we were to be given free membership cards with P100 worth of credits you could use at the slots. I won a miserly P50, which I then proceeded to lose in a span of 2 minutes. Stupid one -armed bandit.Anyway, back to business. The run coincides with Resorts World's Grand Fiesta Manila 2010 event, which celebrates the many facets of Filipino heritage in different forms. The run will be the first in the area, and boasts of 3k, 5k and 10k distances as well as a 1k fun run where you run like a madman in your best office attire. Nice.

Nice guy in a suit explaining stuff.

AVP man explaining all things Resorts World.

Our agency friend on the salient points of the race

Happy, casino-invading, blogging-type people I guess the cool part of the run would be the raffle (speaking of raffles, I won a P500 gift certificant for future use. My run of terrible luck with these things has officially ended) All runners are qualified to actually win an all expenses paid trip to Resorts World Sentosa in Singapore , where you'll be flown in by a private jet. Ooh living the high life.

Abby hoping she'll win the trip. I hope she brings me along with her.Race management is under the Leadpack brand, with Ian Alacar serving as the race director. So for those of you sick and tired of the usual race venues, you may want to check this out. It's P650 for all distances and you get a chance to be treated like a rockstar in Singapore. No worries about the accuracy of your times (and the incessant debates/extrapolation that happens after) as the race is RFID timed, with the results texted right after to the number you put in your registration.See you November 28! Race first before you hit the slots!Oh, and here are some FAQ's, just in case.

GENERAL QUESTIONS

What is the run?

The run is the Grand Fiesta Run 2010 which is part of the Grand Fiesta Manila Celebration

Where is the run?

The run will be held at Newport City, Pasay City (Across NAIA 3)

When is the run?

The run will be held on November 28, 2010

Who is the title sponsor?

Resorts World Manila

What is Resorts World Manila?

Resorts World Manila is the Philippines’ latest only integrated tourist hub where you can relax, shop, dine, and play. Resorts World Manila has a mall complete with the best shops and restaurants, movie theaters, a performing arts theater, hotels (Maxim Tower and Marriott Hotel), and a gaming area.

Are children prohibited from entering Resorts World?

No. Only the Casino and Republiq is restricted to ages 21 and above. The shops, restaurants, movie and performing arts theaters, hotels are all open to people of all ages.

REGISTRATION RELATED

How can I register?

You can register in the following:

Resorts World Manila Tourist Counter.

3 select Chris Sports outlets: SM Mall of Asia, Glorietta, SM Mega Mall

R.O.X. in the Fort

You can also call WWWExpress at 793-1777 (press 2 for marketing) or 852-7210 to register via phone and arrange for delivery. A delivery fee of P70 will be charged for Metro Manila deliveries and P100 for deliveries outside of Metro Manila.

1K Fiesta Rat Race category registration is at RWM, ROX and thru WWWExpress only.

Registration is from October 27 to November 22

Better to register early though as there are limited singlet sizes and slots per distance

Until when is registration?

Registration runs until November 22, 2010

Is there an age requirement or age limit?

Anyone can run as long as they deem themselves fit enough to participate. A liability waiver needs to be signed by every participant. Parents or guardians need to sign for entrants under 18 years of age.

How much is the registration fee?

P650 for all race categories

What is included with the registration fee?

Registration fee includes the race kit and a singlet

Do I have to be a member of Resorts World Manila to join the run?

No. Special privileges though will be given to Resorts World Manila members during the run. To win in the grand raffle, you also need to be a member. MEMBERSHIP IS FREE

Is there an age requirement for Resorts World Manila membership?

No. Although you need to be 21 and above to play in the Casino, Resorts World Manila members below 21 can still avail of special discounts and earn rewards points when they shop and dine in Resorts World Manila. AGAIN, MEMBERSHIP IS FREE

How do I become a member of Resorts World Manila?

To become a member, you must be 21 years old and above. Present a valid ID together with your Membership application form at Resorts World Manila Membership Counters. You may get an application form in any of the registration sites.

Do I get any special treats if I’m already a member of Resorts World Manila?

Existing Resorts World Manila Member may still present the RWM Gift Stub found at at the race bib to receive a Match and Play Voucher

What is a Match and Play Voucher?

Match and Play voucher is valued at P100. Present the voucher to the Casino Cage to get a certificate, the certificate together with a live bet of P100 can be used to play at specific gaming tables. Limited to the gaming tables that uses even bets.

Where do I claim the Match and Play Voucher?

Present the free gift stub along with your Resorts World Membership card at the Membership Counter to claim your Match and Play Voucher

What is the validity period of the Match and Play Voucher?

Match and Play voucher is valid until December 05, 2010.

RACE KIT

What does the race kit include?

The race kit comes with a singlet, timing chip, and race bib with loot bag stub, raffle stub, and an RWM gift stub

Can I transfer my race kit to another person?

No. The moment you register, your information is assigned to the race kit and is encoded into the system.

What do I get for the Resorts World Manila gift stub?

Become a member of RWM and present the stub to claim a Match and Play Voucher

What is in the loot bag?

The loot bag will contain items from Resorts World Manila and our sponsors

SINGLET

What are the singlet sizes?

The sizes are XS, S, M, L, XL, XXL.

Can I change size if it doesn’t fit?

No

Where can I get a size reference for the singlet?

The sizes are by Unibersidad and you can use their past singlets as reference.

Do I need to wear the Grand Fiesta Run singlet during the run?

Although it’s preferred, you don’t need to wear the singlet

DISTANCE

What are the race distances?

3k, 5k, 10k, and a 1k special Fiesta Rat Race

What is the 1k Fiesta Rat Race?

The Fiesta Rat Race is a special 1k category where registrants are encouraged to come in office attire (example: suits and rubbershoes) or fiesta-inspired costumes.

What do I get if I join the Fiesta Rat Race?

Aside from the all the fun and great photos of participating in a themed costume run, prizes will be given away to the best dressed, the most unique, and the wildest outfits.

Can I change distance after registration?

No

Can I register for more than 1 distance?

Yes, but you will need to register twice (and pay the registration fee twice)

RUN RELATED

How will the race track my time?

The race will be using an RFID timing system that will track your time. Timing chip must be attached to your bib at all times. Also, make sure to indicate the correct mobile phone number and email address in your registration form as your finish time will automatically be texted and emailed to you as you cross the finishline

When will I know the Race Results?

Your time will be SMS’d and emailed to you the moment you cross the finishline. There will also be a time-check station at the activity center.

Your place in the run in relation to everyone else will be posted at the Resorts World Manila website within 3 days of the race

What are the rules and regulations?

Participants below 18yrs old must have their entry form signed by a parent/guardian

Race Bib must be worn at all times during the race. It should be pinned in front of your running shirt to be placed on or a little above the waistline

Registration will be limited to the slots per category

Finisher’s time, including winners, will be based on RFID tag time results. No RFID tag, no race results.

All protest related to the results must be made in writing and submitted to the Race Director within 30 minutes after the official announcement of winners.

A protest fee of Php 1,500 may be collected for every written protest made.

What is the route?

TBD: The starting point is at the Newport Plaza. The 1k, 3k, and 5k route will take you around Newport City and along Andrews Ave (across NAIA) . The 10k route will take you inside Villamor Airbase.

What are the prizes?

Resorts World Rewards Points will be given away:

Men

Women

1st

2nd

3rd

1st

2nd

3rd

10k

20,000

10,000

5,000

20,000

10,000

5,000

5k

10,000

5,000

2,500

10,000

5,000

2,500

3k

6,000

3,000

1,500

6,000

3,000

1,500

1k

10,000

5,000

2,500

10,000

5,000

2,500

What can I use Resorts World Manila Rewards Points for?

You may use your points to pay for food bills, show tickets, claim parking tickets, food voucher and gifts up for redemption.

Can Resorts World Manila Rewards Points be used to play at the Casino?

Yes, this is a current promo of Resorts World Manila. For detailed promo mechanics, please call 836-6318

Will the run push through if it rains?

The run will take place rain or shine

Will water be provided?

Drinking water will be provided at selected points along the route

Will there be first aid stations?

Medical aid will be available at certain points via roving representative

Are pets allowed?

No. Not everyone is comfortable with animals and we need to be considerate to them. There are also some added hazards of pets being in the race as they might disturb or bite another runner, leaving their special “gifts” along the route, and runners tripping over the leash.

POST RUN ACTIVITIES/ ACTIVITY AREA

What is there to do after the run?

There will be an activity area where sponsors and will be providing activities for everyone

Where do I park?

All participants and other spectators are required to park their vehicles at the designatedparking areas of Resorts World Manila

Is parking free for runners?

No. Standard Parking fees apply

Will there be toilets?

Toilet cubicles will be available at the site during the race

Is there a place to leave my bags?

There will be a baggage deposit area from 5am to 10am

Will there be celebrities?

Although some have been invited, we cannot commit on whether they will join the race

Raffle Draw

What are the prizes to be given away in the Raffle?

3 Days, 2 Nights trip for 4 to Resorts World Sentosa, Singapore with free tickets to Universal Studios and a ride on the Resorts World Manila Private Jet. Note, the ride on the Resorts World Manila Private Jet is from Manila to Singapore only. Going back, winners will be given a one-way PAL ticket to Manila

Cruise for 2 from Singapore to Malaysia and back to Singapore in 3 days and 2 nights. Free entrance to onboard shows and entertainment and use of Gym and recreational facilities. Full board and meals (up to 6 per day). Note, the ride on the Resorts World Manila Private Jet is from Manila to Singapore only. Going back, winners will be given a one-way PAL ticket to Manila

When is the Raffle Draw?

The Grand Raffle Draw will take place after the Grand Fiesta Run during the awarding ceremonies (around 8am)

Can anyone win in the Raffle Draw?

To be eligible to win in the raffle you need to have finished the race, be a member of Resorts World Manila, and be present during the drawing

If I register more than once (and pay each of the registration fees), will that give me more chances of winning in the Raffle Draw?

Yes. But you will have to finish each race you register in and drop the raffle stub at the finishline. You can only win one major prize though and should you win twice, the prize of higher value will be given to you.

How can we be sure that the Grand Raffle Draw will be fair?

A DTI representative will be present during the drawing to ensure that the draw is fair