AN ULTRA RUN IS NOT JUST THAT

Perhaps, a lot of people will just shrug it off and say EVERYBODY can RUN. And they would even cite an example; one man with only one leg can even finish a marathon! Wait. True enough, we all can run. But not an ultra marathon. Truth is, an ULTRA RUN is not just an Ultra Run.

The year was 2014, during Masskara Festival, when I realized Ultra running is not just for people with two strong legs.

Gun time was 2AM, Sunday.  I went out of the office at 4PM so I can sleep and gather enough strength I need. How much strength? That I cannot accurately answer. The plan was to wake up at 12 midnight. I was so ready for sleep to come. Lights off. AC blasting. Complete silence. Thirty minutes after, I was still awake and alert. I was what the song of John Farnham described, “I toss and turn. Can’t sleep at night. It’s worrying me.” I patiently extended the wait for Sleep to finally arrive but another 30 minutes passed, I was fully aware of how many turns I have made in my bed. So I grabbed the TV remote control and turned on the set. Now Showing: MMK. That hooked me more to alertness. I finished it without difficulty. And yes, I did not sleep before the run. Time check: 12 Midnight. I rolled out of bed and prepared myself for insanity. For the craziest adventure ever!

Start - Capitol lagoon.  Oh boy, while my cab was rolling its wheels in the city, envy crept in my body. From my seat, I can see happiness through my window. While for me, soon I will set off on a journey of the unknown. That moment when choosing is too late. No turning back. The cab cannot enter Lacson Street, so I unloaded at the back of Mcdo. I grabbed a cup of brewed coffee. At 1AM, I was the odd in a multitude of people. While they were dressed for a street party, I was in my Black New Balance Shorts, yellow Yonex Shirt, and my Neon Green K Swiss shoes. I almost wanted to hide myself. But as I looked around, I can see the apathy of people, so that help erased the awkwardness.

Time check: 2AM. I pinched my arm. Yes, this is so real. I readied myself, physically. Stretching, jogging in place, and praying. My heart’s beating became erratic when I heard the bang! I ran. Very slow. Slowly.  I was in a group in the first 10 kilometers. It made me smile because at 2AM, we have an audience around. And of course, with people’s eyes on you, you run, not walk. Or else, they will have something to say. After the 15^th kilometer, the separation of the best, better, good, and not-so-good runners, became obvious. Where do I belong? I am not saying. Ha! Ha!

I did not know, some parts of the road we traversed did not have street lights. And there were no houses around. Only sugarcane in both sides. With nothing to see on the road, I just prayed, I cannot step on shits, sharp objects, and snakes. We arrived in Murcia Public Plaza, still very dark, but sweating profusely. We stopped to catch our breath, and indulged in boiled bananas and water. As much as we wanted to stay longer and fill our tummies, this we know we cannot afford. The finish line was very expensive. The running continued. Until we reached Mambukal. This came in as good news; 30 kilometers conquered. The other side of the equation brought in the no-so-good-news; 20 kilometers to go. Keep the faith. Keep the sanity. Keep running. The day already ushered some light and so we thought of having breakfast. It was timely that we found a decent restaurant which was still closed when we arrived. Time check: 6AM. Their signage says, “WE open at 7AM”. We did not give up. We shouted, “Tagbalay!” And perhaps with the way we look, the owner, with alertness, opened the gate of the restaurant. We gave ourselves the treat our bodies greatly deserved. So we had full breakfast – we ordered fish tinola. Time ticked so fast when we are not on the road. Ha! Ha! The full breakfast took one hour. The walking and running continued while the sun revealed its might fiercely as the day progressed. We reached Kipot bridge and indulged in their famous brewed coffee (made famous because of the socks as filter. Who’s socks? Ha! Ha!).

The elevation was becoming more painful. Although, the prize is, it’s getting colder.  You cannot have it all, as they say. We marched and marched the long and winding road of La Carlota. That last 8 kilometer stretch was perhaps the most challenging part of the run. That was the mental and psychological attack. When your body is already very, very tired, the decision to give up becomes as easy as 1,2, 3 or A, B, C. And this separates what ultra runners understand.  An Ultra run is not just an Ultra run. When we ask residents along the way, some would say, “Just Continue, You’re Near”. This is good news to our ears. But others would ruin that by saying, “Are you losing your mind? That is way too far.” Some would even insult us by giving us coins so we could ride instead. Now the decision to listen or just shrug it off is in your hands. To finish or not to finish. That is the question. The Chinese proverb is correct when it said, a slow steady action is more important than standing still. We walked. And walked. Even in our power naps, we were walking! We should be moving. Because it is the only way to get to the finish line.

It All Started in Cauayan

It was just suppose to be a birthday escape. Entering a new decade, I thought of celebrating it, differently, if words can faithfully describe it.

It was one of those aimless walks in the central walk of Robinsons when my gaze met this, Summer Beachcapade in Cauyan on May 10. Meant to be? Yes! But honestly, the main deal was not, running. I was excited for, Volleyball.

Running and I, matter-of-factly, has this: a love-hate relationship. Who wouldn't hate it? I was humiliated by it, in my own hometown. Read, "I don't Ride, I Run" for the complete story.

When we arrived in El Tzino, Cauyan, happiness is slowly coming from a far. The warm summer breeze. The sight of the waves frolicking with the sand. The stationary yellow boat under the moving blue sky. The unassuming stance of the mangrove trees. Nature had it beautifully painted before me, canvass not needed.

When we add years to our lives, we are hit by certain realities. But when we reach 30, the hitting becomes harder. The inescapable kind. Unignorable. The kind where it will wake you up in an afternoon nap. And one of which is my, running a half-marathon. That dream was temporarily left on the side, after many years ago, it taught me, that running requires practice and discipline. That it is not something you decide in an instant and you say, today I will wear my running gears, and run 21 kilometers.

I parked this dream years ago, and I picked it up, in the silent town of Cauyan. I said in my interview with Simply Emmy that it has to happen now. Youth is not forever. The energy and vitality we posses today is not eternal. So I decided to finally do it.

The Cauayan run was my Birthday Run. Although, that information was only shared between myself and my officemate, Johanna. But of course after that, facebook revealed what was once a secret. And now I pledged that next year, a chocolate cake will be shared under the Lomboy tree in El Tzino. A trail run is not your ordinary run. Perhaps, if I may estimate, it is a road run times 3. What made it more intimidating was the fact that, participants were what we call the "elite" runners. Having said that, they were the fast species. But I really don't mind. Haha.

Gun start at 3pm for the 10k and 21k categories. The sun was proudly up when we started. It was fun. Well to be more accurate, it was challenging. We went up and down of hills and valleys. We were treated with scenic mountaintop view of the Cauayan seas. And the abandoned sugarcane factory by the beach now rustic and lifeless was a view worth noticing. Mt. Delirium from the name itself need no further explanation. The food stations were generous - boiled bananas, chocolates, candies. In one of the stops, I feasted on boiled bananas. Perhaps 3 or 4. The lady at the station honestly blurted, "Panginaon na guid na imo ya". Hungry as I was at that time, I did not mind. At the onset of sunset, I made it to the finish line. My birthday gift to myself was a bucket of sweat, a medal designed with local shells, and the boiled bananas. Heaven.

From then on, I was joining runs, here and there. Weekend after weekend. Not skipping a run, I was practically having 100 percent attendance. It was madness. Thus, I already have all colors of a singlet you can imagine. Add also to that some medals which I faithfully earned. I crossed seas, in Iloilo and Guimaras, to keep those happy feet moving.

Until September this year, I was so excited to be reunited with an old enemy. Time for the annual Milo Marathon. With all the fun runs from 10k-21k and the road runs from Caltex East to Alangilan, I was ready for this enemy. I was equipped. True enough, that Sunday, I never felt braver and prouder in my life. It was joy. I, after 5 years of doubting, was able to ran my half-marathon. Dreams do come true.

It only takes, baby steps, to get closer to that dream. In fact, I have traveled 50kilometers already, chasing for that goal. People said it is very far. I said, oh yes, it was very far! In fact, that far, far distance sent me to sleep beside the road. Thank God, Charmie woke me up.

A small, baby step I took in Cauayan led me to bigger, bolder steps today. I would not have defeated my long-time enemy if not for those baby steps. No wonder, dreams are for free. I dreamt. In fact, I dreamed big dreams. Today I can say, the biggest dreams create the biggest joys in my life.

The Singing Runner

"You again!"

"Yes, it's me!"

"Will you ever stop, Jay?"

"Yes! Yes of course! I will stop when there will be no contests!"

That has been the yearly script of fellow toastmasters when they see me as a fellow contestant. Not until this year, the script changed!

"Jay? You are joining the humorous speech contest, with a confused-oh-no-why-kill-me-now look!" That hurts! But despite that, here I am, I stand in front of you as a humorous contestant.

I have installed CCTV's in all corners of the room. Those who will laugh like crazy will have 3 gifts: a lifetime friendship, a case of San Mig Light, and a month-long supply of Starbucks coffee delivered at your doorstep!

My motto in life, even if you're not asking, is Live Your Passion. But after this, I fear, you will tell me, "Leave your Passion, Jay". Leave as in, "Close the door, when you leave."

I joined toastmasters because I heard from an unimpeachable source that toastmasters have singing contests. Growing up, I always sing alone, on my own, and never invited in singing contests. And so, this is the perfect opportunity. That's what you call, if opportunity does not knock at your door, I was the one who knocked and forced opportunity to enter the door. True enough, my first singing contest is, with toastmasters, and a national level at that. But of course, in times like that, I was just appointed. And I have a feeling, it was because Sai Culanag or Dexter Dano were not available that time. It was in Antipolo Midyear Convention. I placed seventh among seven contestants. But its okay. After all its my first time! My very good friend, Winston Churchill, said Never give up. Never, ever, give up! I was so elated when I got invited to sing in a church wedding, of a very good friend. Wait...I said invited?...Well, I offered myself to sing. I practiced daily. I tried to reach the high notes of Martin Nievera. I vocalized. But on the wedding day, The CD stopped when I was about to sing these lines. Now that I have you for my own. As God is our witness, never let go. Feel the love grow...I practiced that...over and over again. And the CD was stopped! That is why, I sing it here. Now my practice is put to use.

On the days, where I am not speaking or singing, you will find me, running. And I will never forget my first 21-kilometer Milo Marathon. I was running, gasping for air, sweating under the 8 morning sun, when I heard this: wang...wang...wang. It was a patrol siren following me. I wondered. For sure, I am not the first runner! What is this? And then I heard people, in a loud conversation, saying, "There, there is the first runner! The champion!" And they were clapping their hands. The patrol man, who was already beside me, with his radio in one hand said, "I am with the last runner of the race, Roger. I am with the last runner of the race, Roger." I wanted to disappear at that moment. I wish I can just press one button to open up the ground, eat me up, and disappear forever. Still not giving up, I said to the man, "Sir, can you just stay a little farther?" And he replied, "No Sir, my task is to accompany the last runner!" And then he radio'ed again, "We are still very far, Roger. We are still very far, Roger." And that drained all the hopes in me. My pride is gone. So I humbly made a request to the patrol man, "Sir, can you offer a ride for me going back to the hotel?" He answered, "I can bring you to the finish line Sir! We've got free ice-cold milo there." I answered, "I'm already tired, Sir. I wanted to rest." Polite way of saying, "No thank you. My pride is more precious than your ice-cold Milo!" I may have not finished the race, but I have saved seven pesos for my fare.

Life is one big, crazy adventure. We need to be crazy to live life.

The crazier you are, the happier you will be.

The louder you laugh, the more that we will be friends!

I Don't Ride, I Run

I was running, gasping for air, sweating under the 8 morning sun, when I heard this: wang...wang...wang. It was a patrol siren following me. I wondered. For sure, I am not the first runner!

Fellow toastmasters and guests, I don't ride, I run.

When two of my colleagues invited me to join them in Dumaguete for a 21-kilometer race, I, without moments of doubt, said YES! Now I know why, two of them simultaneously grinned when I said that one word - Yes. It was I who gave them, perhaps, the biggest shock in their life.

We all run. I run. I belong to the generation where our playground is the street, corn fields, and open lots. So I thought, it will be easy. Oh running, you are my game, is what came running around my mind.

It all happened in 2007 during the 31st Milo Marathon. The venue: my hometown Dumaguete. Gun start: 4am. When we arrived in the public plaza, I was astonished with the volume of runners. I said, "Oh, those ambitious little children. Watch me do it", with an arrogant smile. "Excuse me! Excuse me!" as I penetrated the noisy crowd. They were all anxious. I was not. I looked for an open space enough for my arms to circle and stretch. Looking around, I felt so confident, that I can breeze through each one of them, like a speed of an MRT.

Suddenly, one man stood up on stage, holding a megaphone, and raising a gun. "21-kilometer-runners, are you ready?" Five. Four. Three. Two. One. And then the gun shot. The crowd of runners rushed. So I rushed. I speeded. But they speeded too. Until I noticed those little children, ran past me. Feeling the insult, I doubled my steps. But they were just...fast! So I tried to forget about those children disrespecting me. I was just running my pace. Well, my turtle pace. No pressure. Im not in a hurry! In my mind, I said, "We will still see each other at the finish line."

Feeling a little bit tired already, I realized, oh, this is quiet a long distance. I should have known. But the huge pride in me, shouted, "You should finish!" So I continued to run. When the flesh is weak, even though the spirit is willing, the flesh wins, so I walked. Never mind the judgmental looks of people. I ignored each one of them. And then I heard someone shouted, "Jay Cris, why are you there?" Of course, I was too weak to even shout back. In silence, I just said, "Because I am not lazy like you." I continued telling myself, "Common, these little steps will take you to the finish line." Until, I saw the turning point. What a beautiful sight! I heaved a huge sigh of relief. Ten Kilometer is finally conquered!

I was running, gasping for air, sweating under the 8 morning sun, when I heard this: wang...wang...wang. It was a patrol siren following me. I wondered. For sure, I am not the first runner! What is this? And then I heard people, in a loud conversation, saying, "There, there is the first runner! The champion!" And they were clapping their hands. The patrol man, who was already beside me, with his radio in one hand said, "I am with the last runner of the race, Roger. I am with the last runner of the race, Roger." I wanted to disappear at that moment. I wish I can just press one button to open up the ground, eat me up, and disappear forever. Still not giving up, I said to the man, "Sir, can you just stay a little farther?" And he replied, "No Sir, my task is to accompany the last runner!" And then he radio'ed again, "We are still very far, Roger. We are still very far, Roger." And that drained all the hopes in me. My pride is gone. So I humbly made a request to the patrol man, "Sir, can you offer a ride for me going back to the hotel?" He answered, "I can bring you to the finish line Sir! We've got free ice-cold milo there." I answered, "I'm already tired, Sir. I wanted to rest." Polite way of saying, "No thank you. My pride is more precious than your ice-cold Milo!" So there, I stopped running and yes, I am still proud, I saved seven pesos for my fare going back to the hotel.