Signs & Surrender

Signs

I woke up Monday (Feb 23) morning and immediately checked my left leg and foot. Just the previous morning I joined the Ateneo Aquathlon where I struggled with the 5K run. While still lying down, I pressed my fingers against my heel and lower leg muscles. Except for a pea-sized, slight pain in my heel, my leg seemed okay. Days before the doctor said all I had was muscle pain. I was therefore shocked when I had difficulty putting weight on my left leg as I tried to stand. I was not in significant pain but I was definitely limping.

Tuesday came but the limp was still there. I just needed time to recover I said. The limping should be gone by Wednesday. If not, definitely by Thursday. Thursday came but I was still limping.

-o-

It was also Tuesday morning when I got an unexpected text from a pomeranian club officer and friend. My friend was checking on me and my poms, and wondering why I have not been active in the dog forum and shows. Even other breed newbies supposedly missed my posts. I told my friend I was simply busy with sports, but I promised to post pictures of the puppies I managed to breed. I honored my promise that night.

-o-

It was Thursday night when I received another unexpected text. A friend is in the city and another is celebrating her birthday. A get-together was scheduled for Friday, my Nike Running Clinic day. Looking at my limping foot, I said yes to my inquiring friend.

Surrender

The past week has been about surrender. On Ash Wednesday, the office was abuzz with banter about the sacrifices people intend to do for Lent. For others, it was coffee, pork, sweets, etc that they intend to avoid. My sacrifice has been divinely imposed on the stubborn me: I cannot run and will not run until every little pain in my leg is gone. I cannot even bike as I have a tendency to mash the pedal. The sacrifice entailed complete rest. The most I can do physically are flutter or dolphin kicks.

I realize I have been stubborn again - in seeking and imposing my personal will. Well, I have always been strong-willed. My blog is entitled "By Sheer Will" for Christ's sake! Indeed by sheer will I drove my leg to give up on me. The limp was the only way to stop me. With little aches here and there in the past I simply negotiated and bargained my way out of rest and recovery.

Well now I am surrendering. Again. While I still value free will, my life has taught me that the best things I had were not those I willed myself to get, but those given to me by divine "accident". And so I would go with the flow. Surprise me again, O Lord. While I give my legs the rest they deserve, I am enjoying the company of friends - the human and canine kinds. I hope part of the divine plan is me running the Condura half marathon within 2 hrs! Now that will be a heavenly surprise! Haha!

Fine Morning for A Swim and Run

2009 Ateneo Aquathlon
Sunday, February 22

The Ateneo University gym was alive with youthful energy when I entered it a little past 6 am. I was expecting a small crowd, but I was pleasantly surprised by the participant turn-out. Turn-out was such that registration was closed the day before and on-site registration was no longer allowed. Organizers said we were 340 participants. For a nascent sport like aquathlon, that was a lot. Surrounded by students, I felt young again. I remembered being a college student, I recalled my high school students in Poveda when I was a young teacher myself, as well as the college students I taught when I was a young UP graduate student.

After getting my race kit and being body-marked, I relaxed a bit and spent the waiting time for my wave looking for familiar faces. It was comforting to find takbo.ph friends MJ, who would be doing his second aquathlon, and Erick, who would taste his first aqua race, as well as bloggers Ian who is doing his second aquathlon like myself and Javy whom I finally met, albeit briefly, in person. It was a pleasant surprise to bump into my dragonboat rowing teammates (batchmates even) Mylene, who later placed in her age group, and Anne who thoughtfully supported and paced Mylene. I heard there was a more recent male teammate who joined also, but unfortunately I did not get to talk to him.

The Swim (600m)

There were at least 20 people in my wave (age group) that we occupied a big part of pool lane 1. I meant to position myself somewhere in the middle at swim start so I could attempt to pace with the mid-pack and hopefully not get trapped behind possible breast strokers at the end. In at least two races, I labored hard trying to pass breast strokers in narrow lanes, but I was neither aggressive nor fast enough. Unfortunately this time, I was crowded out and managed to secure only second row from pool wall.

I was happy enough with my swim. I think I was able to maintain my relative position in the pack so I was still ahead of a few others after the swim. While I was kicked several times, I was comfortably relaxed for most of my swim. If there was one thing I need to train on, it was to have a feel for how fast/slow I swim. Having spent years swimming leisurely with no concern at all for laps nor time, I really have no firm grasp of what pace is. With a stopwatch doing 50m lap intervals, I recently learned know how a 60 to 70-second 50m lap felt. However, in a race, I simply lose my bearings, my race conservatism prevails, and instinctively I slow down. For this aquathlon, I simply tried not to be overtaken and attempted to overtake when I could. If I can comfortably swim at 60-seconds for every 50m, continuously for 600m, I would be a contented man. I think with more practice I can reasonably achieve this. I am certainly no Enchong Dee who swam the distance in 7:50!

My swim split was 16:50. Results showed I outswam 6 people in my age group. I was happy enough with the result considering that my last 600m continuous swim was a slow 17:00 (and I was not even stepping out of the pool for the next loops at practice time!). Two things I need to work on: run faster out-of-pool for your succeeding swim loops, and practice, practice, practice at my target swim pace. One thing good about swim speed training is that unlike running, one does not really get injured aiming for lung-busting times. Your heart and lungs just work like hell for a specified time and take just a few second/minutes to recover at finish line.

The Run (5K)

Photo by Carlo Nombres,
from Ateneo Swimming Team multiply site

A photo does paint a thousand words - among them: labored running. Out of fear of injury aggravation, I was treading slowly and gently, limiting my ability to lift my knees and make longer strides. While I was not out of breath from the swim and was still packing a lot of energy, my left leg still felt heavy from general muscle soreness. I thought I was already out of the injury woods after the Power Run, but apparently my legs are still adjusting to the new pair of shoes I had. The new pair relieved most of my original pains, but some general soreness remained and adjustment still needed to be made as I actually shifted from a stability shoe to a neutral cushioning shoe.

With heavy feet, I was easily overtaken by the few I left behind in the swim. My spirit sank for a while, but I reminded myself that I had a reasonably better swim. That should be good enough to take home with me. Just finish the run and enjoy your swim improvement.The Atenean run marshalls played a big part in propping up my spirits. Almost all of them would say words like You can do it...Just one lap more...Konti na lang sir. Words sincerely said and given with smiles. These marshalls and the Ateneo Swim Team in general confirmed what I knew from friends all along - the Ateneans in general are among the most genteel and kind people I know. Men and women of substance without the airs of poseurs.

I did finish my 5K run with a time of 38:45. Miraculously, I even finished with a negative split of 20/18:45 and overtook about 2-3 runners in my second and last run loop. Official results showed I actually outran 5 people in my age group. Not bad at all for a recovering runner. Thanks again for the cheering from the marshalls. Overall, I managed to come ahead of 3 other participants in my age group.

Kudos to the race organizers. With the help of Extribe, they even had the RFID chips strapped to our ankles from the swim until the run. High tech! For a college organization, the Ateneo Swim Team did very well. I thoroughly enjoyed the race.

I liked the singlet given and opted to wear it for the run instead of my intended singlet. I especially like the slogan at the back. Tough. Proud. Sorry I forgot the other word (hehe).

I was very happy with the loot bag given along with the Rush and mineral water at finish line.

I capped the splendid morning by getting some boiled Japanese sweet corn along Katipunan Avenue. I figured I would be safe from digestive upset with all the chlorinated water I inadvertently swallowed. I also spotted Sweet Inspirations Cafe, a joint my UP barkada frequented during the good old days. I stopped on a whim and partook of their hearty breakfast buffet. While reading the Sunday Inquirer Magazine feature on running, I devoured adobo and corned beef with rice, eggs, crunchy dilis, arroz caldo, fresh fruits, bibingka and puto bumbong all for Php170.

Thank God for fine mornings.

Running on Will & Grace

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Power Run 15K
Sunday, Feb 15, 2009


I took a gamble that I could run 15K again.
I only had one goal for this race - to finish.
I cared not about time and racing pace.
I simply wanted to finish and regain my confidence.
I longed to triumph over pain.

I miscalculated traffic and waited long to park.
The 5K runners were already off when I started.
There was a rush to run after my wave,
but experience has taught me to maintain my pace,
even if runners more late than I was outran me,
even if it was getting lonely at the tail end.
In a race of hundreds, I was alone -
Racing against myself.

It was moments like these when I see my true strength.
As I slowly chugged along I reminded myself
that my strength lies not on speed,
but in my ability to fix my eyes on the prize.
The greatness of the prize is such that it washes away
all the tedium and drudgery I have to endure.
The prize shines so brightly it colors my views,
and renders even mundane things beautiful.

Every long run I do is like a purification process,
wherein every minute and meter I am being molded
To be fit to claim my rightful place on the finish line.

The first 5kms I was being purified alone.
It was a relief to see the rest of mankind as I approached CCP.
For at least one round of the CCP loop
I joined my fellow believers in the running ritual.
On my second round it was solitary purification once again,
but I assimilated enough runner's high to boost my run.

The rest of the run I was a man in motion
My engine may have been deliberately slow
but it had the hum of a runner with purpose and mission.
Along the way I would meet a few people
who would ran after you when you outpace them,
and walked as soon as they are ahead of you again.
It was a bit disconcerting, and probably impolite,
but I hope they got something good out of it.
Several times I felt like outdistancing them for good,
but that was throwing away my race pace
and endangering my end prize.

In the end my gamble paid off.
I took me 1:54:00 on personal time, longer than my 16K PR.
Because I was late, I barely made the 2hr official cut-off.
The host pronounced me as the last finisher,
even if five others were still waging personal battles behind me.
I hope the organizers recognize their feat.
We labored together, I cheered them on.
I saw the look of determination on their eyes.

It was not a perfect race.
There were runner complaints.
I had none and got what I wanted.
It was the slowest I have run despite a very flat course,
but I ran evenly and maintained form all-throughout.
A slow, sweet victory.

I made it to the finish line.
I am a runner healed of pain.
By sheer will
By God's grace

It's Complicated

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FaceBook is correct about relationships. It can get complicated. That's the kind of relationship Running and I now have.

A rower-friend introduced me to Running way back in 2003. I did not fancy her at first, but I was adventurous and open-minded, so I dove in and dated Running. Our relationship was far from ideal. I must admit that for years, I just used her to lose weight and pass time. Running made me looked good, but I did not really love her. Everything changed in October 2008. Finally, I fell for her. I lovingly wrote about this process in my Falling in Love Series, Parts 1, 2 and 3.

In November I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Running. The realization came at km18 of a 25km foot race I have longed to conquer. From km18 I was rushing to the finish line to proclaim that realization. At the finish line, I gazed at Running, hugged her, knelt down and proposed to her. We have been engaged since then, and have been busy preparing to solemnize our love through a 42km marathon of a wedding ceremony to happen sometime in 2009.

It was during the long preparation for the marathon wedding that our relationship got complicated. Running began to notice the changes in me. I would spend hours practicing - like a man possessed. According to her, I transformed from a carefree lover to an obsessed groom-to-be. I was allegedly pushing too much and too soon. Running asked if I truly love her, or am I simply in love with the idea that is her and the possibilities that idea opens.

How could you doubt me?, I retorted. You knew and felt what happened in Clark, I added. I love you and that love is pure. Nothing else mattered.

Running said: I am not perfect. Would you love me not only for the joys I bring, but also for the pains I may give in the process? Would you continue to love me if your foot is beset by plantar fasciitis, or if being with me meant having shin splints?

The reality of what Running said struck me and I was stupefied for moments. Indeed, I have been suffering for more than a month now from a plethora of runner's pains, traveling from my left heel, lingering in my calf, and now threatening to attack my left knee. Coming back to my senses, I told this to Running: From km 18 onwards, I was a runner in love. I knew then that by running fast I was risking heel pain, but I sprinted just the same because I basking in our mutual love. I am mature enough to know that love does not come easy, but I decided to love just the same. Love is a decision I made at km 18.

Running was crying by the time I finished my sentences. She said to me, I want to believe, but I am scared.

I am scared myself, I said. I am scared I may be really injured. I am scared that my left leg may never get strong enough to withstand the demands of our intended marriage. I am scared, but I am trying. I never ceased trying. I am swimming and biking in the hope that doing so can temporarily ease the pains and possibly provide a lasting solution. I am reading in the hope I can find answers. I am open to consultations. I am doing all these to make our relationship work. They say one must not be afraid to commit to a relationship so long as one chooses a partner well. I have chosen you. To you I have committed myself. I commit to make this relationship work.

As a sign of my commitment I am doing the Power Run - 15kms of hope and prayers on the 15th day of the month of love. I am not sure if my left leg is already strong for this commitment, but run I shall do, slow down if I have to, and walk to the finish if I really must. Maybe at the finish line we shall both realize that love need not be complicated after all.

Congestion

The fitness boom is upon us. Now it is undeniable.

I first noticed the signs between mid-November and mid-December. Suddenly in the gym I found myself waiting for unused lockers. The treadmills have become full. In the village where I bike I would see shiny mountain bikes, brand new helmets, fresh bright jerseys and looks of glee and enthusiasm on people rediscovering the joy of biking (I am actually one of them). The same scene occurred in the Bay area and in Fort Bonifacio. I heard from friends that bike shops are abuzz with new bike purchases. Last month in the pools I would overhear people eagerly training - for an aquathlon or triathlon maybe. The last few days my running friends and I would notice more people running in Boni High Street - regulars and fresh faces. From word-of-mouth and blog accounts I would hear of heavier traffic in the Ultra oval. Suddenly your not-so-active officemate or friend, or friend of friend, are eager to try running.

And so on the PSE bullrun everyone came to celebrate their regular or new found passion. There was chaos in the registration and finish line as everyone seemed to be caught by surprise by the throngs of new runners. In the 2,500 slot running party that was Happy Run, not everyone was fortunate to be part of the party. The happy party was simply full. Honestly after that Happy Run experience, I entertained that self-centered thought that maybe the event promotion could have been hush-hush so that only a select few in the know could enjoy the party, or at least be guaranteed to have bibs before the rest of mankind get theirs. With delusion of self-importance and influence, I thought that if I keep quiet henceforth my select friends and I would be assured of slots, especially in future races with limited slots.

But the thing is l like races with big crowds. I get a huge high from the throngs of people out there to simply have fun or to run the race of their lives. I guess that is why from my little kingdom that is my blog, I try to encourage the newbies to try - sometimes even making a fool of myself to drive home the point that any average Juan can run, swim or bike. Okay this blog agenda still sounds selfish, but hey I am not harming anyone, am I?

If my agenda is self-centered, how about the motherhood statement that we can build a strong nation through sports? In the few times that I was in Singapore, I actually envied that nation of about 4 million in that the general populace seemed to be fit and sporty. You would see their trim bodies in gyms, roads or beaches. And hey, they do well in the SEA games and have a stronger Olympic presence than ours.

I suppose this lone-wolf-while-in-training-cum-crowd-loving-when-racing runner/triathlete wannabe will continue to wish for all of us to exercise our way out of this economic rut that we are in. In the meantime, I will find secret, private places where I can train in peace and enjoy in relative solitude the magic that is running, swimming and biking. I hope to see you all in the next big races. The roads may be a bit congested, but I am sure we shall all manage.

My First Aquathlon

February 1, 2009
Sunday morning

After a gruelling, 4.5hr, 90km bike ride on my birthday the previous day, I did have enough energy left to survive my first aquathlon (Speedo Aquathlon, Ultra Compound, 950m swim / 3K hill run). Admittedly I was not in the best condition and preparation for this event, but thank God I finished. My very low ranking reflected my level of preparation and effort, but thankfully I was not the last finisher like in my first triathlon. Miraculously, my swim and run times were slightly better than that of the sole practice round I did for this event. I guess I simply have to train harder and more seriously, and not bike hard before my next aquathlon!

I have the finisher shirt and photos to prove I did finish (hehe).

I always love the Speedo finisher shirts

Okay, I promise to lose 20lbs more within six months.

Aquathlon first-timers Ian, MJ and myself

(Ian, I hope you don't mind if I grabbed this pic from your blog)

I did have a normal birthday celebration with family after all. In line with the aqua theme the family went to its favorite destination resto Palaisdaan along National Highway, Bay, Laguna.

Love this place. Our food came from that pond.

Me in my finisher shirt with 2 of my ardent fans.

The Gift of Hope

January 31, 2009
Saturday morning

The morning's long anticipated activity was supposed to be a special run - a leg-and-lung busting power 10K or an extra-special LSD. Weeks before I already envisioned the dream outcome - me finally breaking my mythical sub-60 10K goal, or me doing at least a half-marathon of dream-filled, rejuvenating long, slow run. Alas, my left leg had other plans! Afters 3 days of rest following a speed work-out, soreness finally vacated my leg on Saturday morning. But the confidence to do what I originally planned simply wasn't there. If I race a 10K, how many more days do I suffer after? After doing mainly easy 5Ks or 10ks, was I really ready to push again for great distance? Overextending my mileage was what got me into this rut in the first place.

That Saturday was my special day and this birthday boy intended to get a gift for himself! Happiness is not only a state of mind; it is also making the most out of given circumstances. So I got my reliable road bike and set to ride for a LONG distance. Just the other weekend I successfully increased my bike distance from standard duathlon requirement of 40K to a personal record of 60K. That was 2 months after I fumbled my way into riding my first road bike. This Saturday morning, as a birthday gift to myself, I would do half-ironman bike distance of 90K. Yes, another 50% increase from previous mileage. But I know my body, and this body deserved the gift of hope that someday it could actually bike the half-ironman distance.

It was already 11am when I began my half-ironman attempt. Yes, birthday boy deserved a longer stay in bed, and I dilly-dallied that long before deciding on how I would spend my day. Even my second shift morning cycling "classmate" was already half-way through his ride when I began mine. Still, it was comforting to know that I was not the only regular cyclist who woke up late and was crazy enough to start when the sun was already way up there.

To accomplish the half-ironman bike leg, I had to do 8 rounds of rolling 11K and do a 2K cool-down to complete the 90. The first 2 rounds were easy. I would trade hellos and quick banter with classmate and his driver/support crew. By noon and onto my 3rd round, I was already alone on the road. No cyclists, no runners, just cars and me. It was times like these when I would ask myself why the hell was I doing all these. Biking at noon time when I should be holed up in some hotel indulging myself, reserving strength for late-night dinner, drinks and videoke marathon with friends.

I suppose I just wanted to test myself. That even if I could not swim, bike or run fast, I certainly could go the distance. That what I might lack in speed and power, I made up with diligence, patience and tenacity to finish the seemingly impossible, when others would have long given up or would not even try. I suppose I long for accomplishment, beyond education or career. I suppose I long for something I can be passionate about. I suppose swimming, biking and running remind me that I am very much alive and must live life to its fullest. What is death anyway but a cessation of all movement. And so on the day of my birth I moved a lot and celebrated my capacity to enjoy life.

I continued my celebration and began my third round by singing. Yes I was singing out loud; no one would hear anyway. I was also not sure if I would still have strength for videoke later. I began with the last song I heard over the radio on my way to the village: Spongecola's take on videoke MRS Closer You and I. Hey there's a look in your eyes, it must be love at first sight....I was pleasantly surprised to hear myself singing well despite being crouched forward on bike. It seems biking, running and swimming have other benefits. I was hitting the high notes full-bodied and with gusto! Well at least till that part when road turned uphill - needed to focus back on the climb. As I passed through my favorite adrenaline rush downhill, I was rocking my way to You Give Love A Bad Name (is that the title?). You giiiivve loo-ovvve....a BAD name!!!

I was so pumped up despite my very limited repertoire of songs whose lyrics I could remember that the next 4-6 rounds came easy (note to self: update your songlist, memorize lyrics and practice!) Rounds 7-8 were the hardest. I was already beyond my historical longest distance, and Jesus Christ, I only had a pack of hopia and cashew tarts on quick breaks for lunch. This was the time I was trying to summon all the singers and saints I could think of. Running out of songs I actually did Climb Every Mountain just in time for that uphill again. I must be delirious from hunger and fatigue when I did Sharon Cuneta's Unti-unting Mararating Kalangitan at Bituin (yes, in another long uphill again). I found myself repeatedly singing Matchbox Twenty's Unwell. I was in denial when I sang, I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell... I must have sang that line a zillion times.

On my last round at close to 3pm, a senior cyclist came close, probably to ride along. My God, the afternoon cycling shift had aleady arrived and I was not yet done. I was too weak to mumble anything, but in my mind I said, Manong, kanina pa ho akong umaga. Last ko na ho 'to at ayoko na. Next time na lang ho. He must have read everything from my face and body posture, so he biked past me.

Ninety kilometers finally passed. It took 4.5 hours, but I did it. Ha! I now have that 90km badge of hope pinned on my jersey. Just have to work on speed, hill climbing, fear of buses. Oh I forgot again, get those cleats please, and practice on the aerobar. The dream event was still months away anyway. For the moment I celebrated. I treated myself to The Spa massage after the ordeal. The dinner, drinks and videoke could wait. As the skilled masseuse kneaded away the knots in my legs, I silently prayed I would have the strength to do the next day's aquathlon. God, thank you for another great birthday.