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.

Questions, Lessons, and Wonderings

As I sit at the corner where I can hear the sound of coffee-making, feel the coldness of the weather, and get distracted with the blistering lights of vehicles passing by, i return to this blog and write. I am not in Dumaguete but I write now. Perhaps because I try to find some therapy or some sort of "me" time.

Earlier, I walked, quite a long distance from 888 to a coffeeshop with the green logo. And more often than not, walking, makes me want to walk through the past, or think about the course of living my life. You see, life is different when you are in your late twenty-something. Somehow, you frequently think of whether you live or merely exist.

The cold, crisp air along Lacson Street stirred the melancholic in me that led me to sit down, stare, think, and write.

A lot of times, the "pauses" that we experience in our life, or the "stops", or the "silence" are sometimes gifts to us. In moments like this, we let our world stop, look inside us, and ask ourselves the essential question, "Am I living or merely existing?". The daily grind can make us tired, lest, we forget that there is more to it in life. Sometimes when we work so hard, our bodies and mind become so weak, that it leads to make our mind settle to what is routinary and easily think that perhaps - this is what my existence is all about. Sometimes when we are caught in the busyness of our daily routine, we easily settle for what is convenient. We love to do the ordinary. We stop growing. And because our mind become weary, we tell ourselves, this is how to live life. I have a life! I can eat more than 3 times a day. I can travel. I can shop every weekend. I can drink Starbucks coffee. I can eat in restaurants. Wow! I am living a good life! But until when?

And this is perhaps, what most of the twenty-something experienced. Of course, myself included. We are so eager to make a name. We jumpstart a career we have envisioned ourselves to be. We are so energetic. We love finding ourselves so caught up in the busyness of life. Perhaps, because we equate busyness with productivity. Or busyness with self-worth and value. We say yes to all activities. We join and lead in civic organizations. We travel. We make new friends. We speak to an audience. We are everywhere. Yet, at the end of it all, we end up still trying to figure out our life. And we ask ourselves whether we truly are successful or not. What are the barometers of success after all?

Our solitude moments are the times to make sense of our day-to-day activities. It is in silence that we can truly find meaning with what we have. It is when we are alone when we see the person that we are and not the person that people around you want you to be.

Life is full of distractions. People. Things. Fame. Prestige. Wealth. Power. Now that I am in my late twenty-something, I have learned that these things matter but they dont matter the most. They are only trappings of life. But not life in itself. What still matters, are the things that are invisible in the eye - inner peace, loving family, good relationships. The trappings of life will give happiness, yes, but not the lasting kind. They will, more often than not, only create distractions. We should keep our sight above these distractions so that we will truly see the essential things.

I am a work-in-progress. Nothing is certain yet. I am not yet a finished product - in fact very far from it. I am not yet full. I wake up each day trying to find meaning in all of the things that I do. I am still trying to figure out if this is what I wanted. I am still on the look-out of signs and symbols as I walk through life in the hope that I am treading the right path. I am still in search of the pieces of myself that my Creator wants me to be.

Year-end Thoughts

Today, the last day of 2013, will usher a new start. Another beginning.

It is, with a happy feeling, that we can start anew - change what needs to be changed and start doing the things that are in your bucket list. Or perhaps, this year is the time to make your own bucket list.

2013 is a hard year, well i guess, for all of humanity, Filipinos most especially. We have been shaken literally and metaphorically.

Convincingly, 'twas a hard year but it made me, well, a better or wiser person.

First of all, i have learned to be more grateful. After all the destructive calamities that hit the country, I am spared. I am alive. Thank you God. And my thank you note to Him comes heeding the opportunity to help. We were spared because we are called to help. I have learned that gratitude is an action word. It means being emphatic. It means going out of your room and help. It means giving up, temporarily, your comfort zone. To me, it even means, not listening to critics and just continue to do it. In the arena or life, the critics should not matter. What will matter is you and your intentions. When we organized the dinner for a cause for the victims of typhoon Yolanda, we gained supporters and critics. I was deeply disturbed. I saw apathy. I saw indifference. But that only fueled our wanting to help. That only gave us the formidable strength to just do it. And we made it. I then realized that critics are there because of two things - first, to give you more focus and second, to make you stronger - thus you end up victorious. That's it. Thank you to all our critics.

I have also learned that we live in an interdependent world - one that is fragile. I have started advocating for Climate Change this year. And I regret to realize it quite late. My facebook profile pic depicts the Earth on Fire. It really is. Climate change is so real. We dont need to look for evidence because the evidence is already in front of you - before your own eyes. We should realize that our Earth is a fragile ecosystem. The fast rising of the temperature on Earth, if not stopped, will make this world, unlivable. And the rate is fast moving. And it will take you and me to do it. We should stop thinking that China activities will only affect China and US activities will only affect the US. We live in a world without walls. We all live in one world. We affect one another.

I have learned that I am growing older. (Smiling) I used to think that youth is forever. Until later this year, I need to slow down a bit because my body feels the fatigue. I realized that things are not the way it used to be. When I arrive in the house and watch news, I only realized that I have not watched anything at all when I wake up in the night with uniform on, and TV showing already the late night news. Haha. I have confessed this to a friend within my age group and we said "Cheers to Old Age". Growing old is fun.

Lastly, I am convinced, that Life is only temporary. No one lives forever. For another passing year, we should be comforted by the fact that we are all passers by. No one holds the distinction of being the richest, most famous, most beautiful, most successful, best actress when we die. What people remember are usually that good things that you have done. How you have affected them. How you have inspired them. How you have loved them.

Cheers to a happier 2014!

If Tomorrow Never Comes

Statistics and I have some unresolved issues. It rooted from the time when my Statistics teacher would just barge inside the classroom and tell us let to draw a Probablity curve. No, it's not the drawing activity that started the trouble. I love drawing. Well, not really drawing. I mean, doodling, or aimless drawing to be more honest. The trouble was, finding x in the curve. And most of the time I can't find my X. 

I may have hated finding my X under the curve but I have learned some statistics lesson. One, the probability of you being struck by lightning is higher than winning a 6-digit combination in the lottery. No wonder, ever since in grade school, i have not won in any game of chance such the very common, raffle draw. I just ended up waiting eagerly, hands clasped, and then walked away with bare hands. Statistics must be correct!

Probability as a branch of Mathematics, teaches us that some events in our life can be quantified in its likelihood to occur. If you toss a coin, the Probability of getting a head is 50%. Your chances of getting a natural tan in the beach can now be predicted in percentage.
Probability as a tool makes us confident. It makes us calculate the risk in the table. It gives us a more informed decision.

But what about our life? What about the number of years in our lifetime? Can we find that under the Probability Curve?

When I was around 10 years old, I thought I kissed death already. It was a cold month of December when my family crossed the sea going to the scenic island of Siquijor. The sky was overcast. The wind was blowing hard. We were on board a small pump boat made of wood and bamboo. As we sailed, the creaking sound of the wooden parts grew louder as the big waves slapped mercilessly our boat. The smell of the sea crept in as it entered through the small, circular holes just above the floor. The loud banging of the wooden windows interrupted our silent yet intense prayers. The deep exhaling as the pump boat dived down, very abruptly, that sometimes, I felt it cannot make its way up, was terrifying. And how I wish at that moment I can float in the air so that I can help the boat go up. That lasted for an hour. And for that one hour of fear and paranoia my life just hanged by a thread. 

We have heard two news of an untimely death just recently. One involving a Glee star, Cory Montieth, who died very young because of drug and alcohol overdose. And second, we mourn over the death of District 75 Trainer, TM Pat Pascua. She died from a high blood pressure. We saw, how alive she was when she conducted the training last July 20. Only four weeks had passed, and we lost TM Pat. Who would think it will happen?

And then we think of our own lives. How long can we live? How many days? How many months? How many years?

No one knows. Only Him. How I wish my statistics teacher can. How I wish I can plot my number of years under the Probability curve. How I wish I can just say, " I have 80% chance to survive today. It's a great day! Or "Oh no, I only have 10 % of surviving today. I should be extremely cautious." Unfortunately, Probability will not. Science will not. Our life, unlike X ,cannot be found under the probability curve.

Tomorrow is, but a promise. Today is what we have. Today is the best time of our life. Today is the best time to be kind to everyone. Today is the best day to help. Today is the best day to be happy.

There is no other day, but today. Live today like it's your last. Make it count. Life is not about taking chances. Life is about making things happen.