A Man's Health

...

Anima Sana In Corpore Sano

(Sound Mind, Sound Body)

While I wish I have the abs of Sparta's 300 valiant men, I honestly think the Athenians had it better over the Spartans. The Athenians knew the recipe for greatness - a sound mind and a sound body.

Following Athenian wisdom, I elected to not to do physical exertion last Friday and Saturday prior to Sunday's Miracle Run. I needed to rest my body. More importantly, I needed to rest my mind - from its current addiction to running. It helped that Friday night a good friend is celebrating his birthday and his girlfriend was throwing a surprise party for him. Delicious free food, easy conversation about things other than running, and company of non-running friends - great combination. Just what I needed.

Early this week I was initially distracted when the founder of the Philippine Pomeranian Club reminded me to call a club meeting, but I realized this other passion called dogs would balance out my running addiction. In the spacious hall of the club founder, a motley crew of Pomeranian enthusiasts planned shows and seminars the way runners would organize races and clinics, and these dog lovers later watched in awe as Pomeranian champions in various colors and patterns paraded in front of us. The spectacle and feeling were akin to watching a lead group of elite runners come back from a turnaround, or a peloton of cyclists in colorful battle gear.

Passions. We live and breathe for our life's passions. It is ironic that the things that drive us to great heights of achievement or depths of meaning are the same things that can lead us to burn out or calling it quits. How we all wish that our passions can be never-ending, ever-rising orgasmic experiences. But realistically, passions tend to heave and haw, and come in cycles. Sadly, my passion for dogs and sports went through the same cycles. The pattern was evident: a big dam of emotion and excitement at the start, made possible by all-consuming focus and time devotion, and eventually losing steam, and possibly resulting in temporary revulsion.

I have been through two cycles of doggie love and about four for running. I am getting weary of spinning like a laundromat. If there will be cycles let them go like long slow runs. Let them be like full marathons, and not 100-meter dashes or 5k sprints.

The key is balance. Balance is the goal I had when I signed up for the Miracle Run. Balance the joy of joining races with the desire to help out. Balance the solitary runs with group LSDs, mass starts and endless photo-ops at finish line. Balance the desire to run longer and faster with one's capacity to recover. Balance one's multi-facet passions and responsibilities. Even out the thrill spurts so one can revel in the ecstasy longer.

The miracle in my Sunday run was that I seemed to be fully healed. I did the 10K Miracle Run at 1:09:16 at average pace of 7:02min/km. It was not a personal best, but that was my average pace when I ran the New Balance 25K last November 2008 in a pair of week-old high stability shoes. Mid-November was the time when I began noticing problems with my left foot. My Condura Run 21K pace a week ago was about 7:30min/km, while my Run for Their Lives 10K pace (pre-Condura) was 8min/km.

I ran the Run for Their Lives, Condura Run and the Miracle Run with my new ASICS. For now I suppose the ASICS Gel 1130 is the miracle shoes for me. ASICS: anima sana in corpore sano. It is amazing how a pair of shoes seemed to make all the difference - between limping and running, between running and running well. But the real miracle actually resides in me - in my body and its resilient set of legs and feet, and in my mind that seeks balance and opens itself to great possibilities.

Sound mind, sound body. This is the new balance.

Race Day Magic

22 March 2009
Condura Run for the Whale Sharks

I woke up at 3am. That was the earliest I have ever set my alarm for a race. At 4am I was already on my way to Doc Lyndon’s house to lend my vehicle for the takbo.ph support group. I should not complain for I actually had it better. Doc Lyndon was up much earlier and did the back-breaking task of loading sports drinks and bananas into his vehicle, and coordinating with the support crew. All I did was prepare the liniments, petroleum jelly, band-aids and water spray bottles. With our respective vehicles sequestered for support, Lyndon and I rode with his in-law Ton, also a new runner and a half-marathon virgin like us.

While exchanging stories of first races and tips on eating on the run, the idea of race day magic was brought up. An injured runner, I wrote about how I was anticipating race day magic to pull me through. For Lyndon who had an asthma attack a few days before the race, and who was very busy up to hours before the race, he was also relying on race day magic. I was actually more anxious for him than for myself, but I did my best to hide it. Maybe it was because I do not personally know how bad an asthma attack can get and I do not know how to help if it happens. The best I could do was to lend him my heart rate monitor strap. More likely it was because I wanted somebody who tried so hard to train and support others to do well on his first half-marathon.

The place was already pulsating with excitement and anticipation when we arrived at the race site. As I searched for the takbo.ph booth, I chanced upon Foreign Runner Philip, whose physical and online presence the running community has missed. Mr. Le Roux, who has not run much lately, is happily based now in the province.

I was happy to see a lot of new runners of takbo.ph all excited for their first 10k or half-marathon. The first hint of the Condura Magic was actually the March 8 impromptu LSD of takbo.ph where more than 60 runners (mostly newbies) showed up to test their ability to run at slow pace the Condura 10K or 21K. The sight of that many runners on Boni High Street that early morning is still surreal for many of us. The LSD did wonders for us however. Emboldened with the idea that friends are just a few meters away, we shall conquer the Skyway. Never mind if many started running just last quarter or even just this year. If one really wanted to be part of history, he could – so long as he runs smartly and comfortably in the company of fellow believers. The miracle is not that they finished; it is that they had the courage to start.

The Condura Miracle had many faces:

Lyndon who finished sub 2:22 (hmmn, akala ko ba may asthma 'yan? haha)
Cathy who had her first 10K in December, her first 15K in February and now 21K
Lauren and OC whose mother rejoiced at the sight of a medal on their necks.

Migz and David who took up running just this year and are now half-marathon finishers
MJ, Mar, Steven, Topher , Bong, Ric & many others who were very happy to lose their 21k virginity.
Craig who toured the Skyway with son Justin on stroller

Natz who sped through the 21K course but still managed to take photos on the Skyway.
Quennie, who happily run through her first 21K
And dozens of other happy faces.

From work there were four of us who did the 21K. Among them, I had the most running experience. Among us I finished last. I have been humbled once again, and will probably be humbled once in a while. But I wear with quiet pride the thought that if this fat bloke could lose weight and run long distances, they too can achieve the same if not surpass what I had. From doing 10Ks Me-Ann and Oliver took a leap of faith to 21K. I am specially proud of Jerome, whose second and last race prior to Condura 21K was the New Balance 10K Powerrace.

Me-Ann, Jerome, Rico and Oliver

The race was not perfect, but what it had was a soul. A race is greater than the sum of its route, singlet or shirt, certificate or medal, runner attendance, race marshalls, water stations, portalets and freebies. Great infrastructure prepares one for greatness, but it is the race’s soul that defines its true greatness. The race soul is an amalgam of a timely cause, imagination, empathy and genuine desire to please. There was not enough water in one part of the Skyway and there could have been more photographers covering ordinary runners, but these minor shortcomings were more than made up by big gestures like the Skyway privilege and small touches like seeing your name in the Philippine Star. At its core, running is an emotional and mental sport. Great races engage the heart and soul. The Condura Run engaged both. That was the magic of Condura.

For me the magic is not that I finished. I knew in my heart I would – I just did not know in what fashion and how fast. I finished in 2:46:10 and improved my average pace by about 20 seconds per km from last week's 10K pace. The magic is that I am clawing my way back to full recovery, and that my full marathon and half-ironman dreams this year are still alive. Looking back, the magic really began with the announcement of a vision fulfilled – a run along the Skyway. The magic was strong enough to sustain me through a trying period of literally being unable to run, and then running so agonizingly slow when I finally could. Magic is said to be the suspension of belief – a make-believe. True magic for me is faith that things can happen. Magic made running the Skyway a reality. Magic allowed a runner’s carbo-loading party to happen. It was short of magic that more than 200 runners of different persuasions congregated in 200 square meters of space to get to know each other better, have fun and partake of good food. The magic was that people volunteered and subsumed their personal interests for the greater good. Personally, I was confident I could survive the 21K without a support group. I have survived cramps and lack of water in two 25K races before. Why must I lift a finger now for something I considered nice to have but not absolutely necessary for me – especially if I had to work my ass for it? I suppose I could still recall how dejected I felt then dragging my cramping legs and dry mouth to the finish.

Volunteerism at work

I looked at Jinoe and Quennie. The couple are getting married in a month’s time and yet they are burning their phone lines for this. I listened to how Doc Lyndon passionately talk about this idea and how he contacted people to make things happen. I watched how MJ worked to secure a venue and talk to suppliers and the speaker, how Cathy had to take care of chairs and tables, and how Natz had to plot out and strategize LSD routes and aid station locations. Lastly, I remembered the look of excited faces of new runners that fateful LSD in BHS. The look of excitement and accomplishment on their faces: priceless. I had a selfish agenda too. I wanted a party that will bring people together, so people can work better at elevating the status of running in the Philippines. If finding joy in altruism is a sin, I am guilty of it. I suppose we all find satisfaction in doing something for a cause bigger than ourselves.

We are bloggers all

takbo.ph forum members

Altruism was the magic of the Condura Run. It was about the Concepcions thinking of a route that would excite runners. It was about having one of them forego running so thousands could be assured of a great race. It was about raising funds and awareness for the gentle whale sharks. It was about Runners for Others and their Operation Smile for children with cleft lips. It was about dozens of Ninoys believing they could make a difference. It was Craig Logan pushing the stroller of his son Justin, and Jinoe and Quennie sharing the burden of pushing. It was takbo.ph providing not only a portal for events, race maps and results, but more importantly a sense of community among runners, groups and clubs. It was The Bull Runner providing another medium to reach out to runners. It was friends pacing, waiting or cheering for others. It was each of us conquering our fears. People make the difference. We create our miracles. Magic was simply unleashing the hero that lies within us.

We are runners. We run for ourselves and others. We are heroes all.

Sea of Smiles

Preparation

I have done my long runs.
I have decided on my race pace.
I have done my tempo run at race pace.
I have estimated how long it will take me to finish.

I am at the end of my taper.
No more runs for me till race day.
My daily stretching and amateur attempts at yogic poses continue.
I have been eating a lot of fruits.
I have slightly increased my complex carbohydrate intake.
I am taking my regular protein requirement.

I have enlisted with the takbo.ph support group.
I have chosen the pair of shoes to use.
I have cleaned my hydration belt.
I have decided on carbo snacks to put on my belt pouch.
I have charged my Garmin.

I know what I want to get out of this race.


Anticipation

I would be wearing the takbo.ph singlet.
I would pin on my singlet the Runners For Others special bib
I would have fun in the takbo.ph runner's party.
I will probably watch a dog show on Saturday morning.
I will likely tag along my pomeranian.
I might take a dip in the pool to relax.
I will probably read the Saturday paper cover-to-cover.
I will probably catch the latest showbiz gossip on tv.
I will memorize and rehearse the powersongs I might sing in my head come race day.
Most likely, I will not need the songs. My fellow runners' collective energy will power me.
I will watch Slumdog Millionaire before I sleep.

I have run longer distances several times.
Recovering from injury, my personal challenge is to run without injury aggravation.
I have read about and dealt with cramps.
Cramps is body's defense against human folly of exerting beyond what one trained for.
I am wise enough to know the initial signs and heed its warning.
I have struck a workable but fragile deal with my body.
I intend to keep my part of the bargain.
I am prepared for the worst, but optimistic about the best.
I am anticipating race day magic.
With God's grace, it will happen.


Celebration

I will jumpstart my celebration on race day by eating my favorite Spanish bread and hopia.
If I have time I will drink a glass of Milo.
I will go to the race site with the heady and healthy mix of excitement, optimism and tension.
I will drink from the fountain of goodwill and excitement that will permeate the air
I will smile with my mouth, eyes, body and spirit.

I will smile knowing many will rejoice in their new distance conquered or new personal best.

I will smile knowing many will have a good time and go home with loot bags, photos and memories.
I will smile knowing that the whale shark will continue to catch krill with that big mouth of his.
I will smile knowing that a cleft-lipped child will soon smile back in return.
I will smile knowing that in-spite of global recession and corruption brought by greed,
Runs likes these will continue to bring out the good in all of us.

It will be a Sea of Smiles.
And God will smile back at us from the Skies.

Big Slow Runner and The Little Race That Could

15 March 2009

Run For Their Lives

I was not supposed to join this race. I was still recovering from injury. The doctor said it was muscle strain. For me it is more like DOMS: Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness. I feel good during a run and suffer after. The lag in pain is just one day actually; what is delayed is recovery from such soreness. I would tend to be sore for days!

Last March 8, my legs felt good enough to do a 15km LSD after two weeks of rest. I was so thankful and relieved I could run again, but my pace was super slow even for an LSD. I chugged along at almost 10min/km or 6kph. Why, I even jogged faster years before when I was just starting. I was not back to square one - I went past zero to go into the negative zone. If I intend to finish the 21K within cut-off time of 3.5 hrs, I must move at least 9:30min/km.

On March 15 I originally intended to do another LSD - probably 12-15kms. I knew there would be a race in Global City, but I thought I should shun the racers or I might get carried away, speed up and aggravate my injury. It was only Friday that I finally decided to register, so at least I would have the moral right to get water when I do my training run, but registration was already closed in Glorietta at noon time. I went to Powerplant night time to register, but all bibs had been reserved. Good thing I hanged around a while; store people called me to say somebody backed out. And so I did manage to register. Good sign. But even then I wasn't confident I could run. It took a remark from a fellow runner/gym rat to finally make up my mind. The conversation went something like this: Are you doing the race this Sunday? Not sure, I am still injured. Just go, bro. It is for charity. Boom it hit me! It was not enough I shelled out the registration fee. I must actually run for their lives.

Run the 10K I did. I arrived during the countdown for the 10K but my Garmin 305 took forever to get satellite reception. On the first race event I deliberately did away with my extraneous digital watch, my Garmin was teasing me. Eventually it found the satellite and I ran after the 3K runners. The 10K runners were already lost in space.

Several instances of being late and bouts of race-end cramps due to overzealous starts taught me well not to run after anyone. So I jogged along with first timers, mom-and-dad in matching cotton jogging pants and shirts, parents with kids in tow, and employees in corporate t-shirts persuaded to join their first run. That time I was not actually apprehensive about catching up. I was worried if I could improve my pace and if the new pair of shoes I bought and tried just the night before could save me, i.e. help me achieve and sustain the target pace.

My starting pace was a pathetic 12min/km. Two hundred meters into the run I improved to about 11min/km. God help me. I needed to be able to run below 9:30min/km. Ironically even at that slow pace I was still overtaking a few newbie runners. One kilometer into the run I finally accelerated to 9min/km. I relaxed a bit and began to enjoy the scenery. One late triathlete zoomed past me. I noticed his foot landing and pronation. It was far from perfect but he was fast just the same. There is hope for imperfect people like me. Two kilometers into the run a father gleefully exclaimed to his tots, Hey kids it's already 2kms. Just a kilometer more. Pose by the km marker so I can get your picture. I also saw a 6 or 7-year old boy running with his father. Boy that kid has excellent running form. Eventually the boy and his father moved out of my sight, while the rest of the 3k runners made their way to the finish line. I trudged ahead towards the handful of 10K runners left behind.

For the first time in many race events, my shins were not hurting in the first 2kms. The new structured cushioning shoes seemed to be doing their magic. I was happy to see my pace hovering around 8:30min/km. Now if only I could sustain this pace. One slow runner at a time, I was overtaking people. I was getting excited. I was more thrilled when I reached Lawton Avenue and saw the fast runners on their way back. I always get exhilirated watching these fast runners. The fast lady runners in pink tutus brought a smile in my face. Thank you Carpo sisters. I was so inspired and amused I didn't realize I was actually in 6-6:30min/km zone. That was my pre-injury pace, something achingly unreachable just a few weeks ago. At km 4.5 I saw this photo of a girl with the caption "Thank You for the Gift of Life". In true Magic 89.9 Boys Night Out fashion, I remarked, No, THANK you. Thank you for giving me back my running life.

Except for my momentary surprise and distraction when the route turned left to McKinley hills instead of the published route further into Lawton avenue, I thoroughly enjoyed the run inside the posh new village. It was my first time to venture and run into some parts of the village, specifically the one passing through the Accenture building. I settled into the 8-8:30/km pace thinking I should not push myself too much at this point. It was enough that I could run fast enough to legitimately finish the Condura 21K. Still, I managed to overtake a few more runners. To avoid aggravating my injury, I slowed down on downhills and landed more heavily on my stronger right leg. I made up for the slower pace by running faster on uphills. However, on the steep uphill way back to Lawton Avenue, I purposedly walked instead of run. I would save time that way I reasoned out. True enough I traversed that uphill faster and even overtook one runner.

The way back to the finish line was simply about testing how much faster I can go while very cautiously preventing myself from straining my legs. The last 2 kms I was so tempted to pick up speed and sprint, but I said there would be better days for that. Just be grateful you could run faster now than your pathetic 10min/km LSD the week before.

Overall I averaged 7:59min/km for that 10km run. My personal time was 1:19:54; official time was 1:21:07. I was ahead of 46 others. A miracle run. Tremendous improvement from last week's dismal performance. The best part was I was not so sore the day after. I guess I would be wearing the new pair of new shoes for Condura Run.

For me the race event was small, quiet event sponsored by well-meaning Rotarians and excellently organized by Extribe, Inc. While I normally like big races with big crowds, every now and then I long for those small, quiet ones with the noblest intention. I was so glad I did run. For their lives, and for mine.

Below are some post-race photos with a few friends
(staying behind in the hope of winning free Oakleys)

Paulo, Cliff and myself

Paulo, Cliff and Ian

Field of Dreams

If you build it, they will come.
- from the movie Field of Dreams

A runner named Jinoe Gavan once dreamt of having a one-stop portal for race information in the Philippines. He also envisioned an online town hall where Filipino runners can congregate and share their running passion. Takbo.ph sprung from such simple dreams, steadily growing with more than 1,500 forum members as of this writing.

Sibling runners Pat and Ton Concepcion dreamt of a race created by runners, for runners. Now on its second year, the Condura Run is the embodiment of their dream. The 2009 Condura Run for the Whale Sharks is the most anticipated race thus far, and is shaping up to be The Race of the Year for many runners. The Condura Run's mission is to inspire Filipinos to run. And inspire they did.

The takbo.ph forum is abuzz with dreamy runners all inspired. Many do not want to pass on the historic chance to run on the Skyway. For a significant number of them, the Condura Run will be their longest race distance yet. With support from experienced runners and drawing from each other's strength, they will form pace groups and run through their first half-marathon together.

A former runner is one of those inspired. He longed to come back to the sport he once loved. While the runner spirit is very much alive, his body has grown overweight, asthmatic and hypertensive. Slowly he came back to running. He is enjoying it so much he longed to conquer greater distances. He actually has the Condura 21K on his mind. He longs to run the half-marathon, but is apprehensive if his body can keep up with his spirit. If only there is a support group he can rely on.

The takbo.ph carbo loading party is a confluence of these people's dreams. It is God's handiwork that the dreams of these diverse people are inter-woven with each other. The party was born out of people's longing for moral and physical support. It aims to raise funds for a support group that will complement that provided by the race organization. Bananas, sport drinks, liniments and others that will ease up the jitters of first timers. The party also intend to draw runners together - to celebrate our common passion notwithstanding our diverse backgrounds. To bond over healthy food, ice breaker games, inspirational talks and free-flowing conversation.

This runner-blogger also has a dream. He dreams of runners conquering their fears and triumphing over difficulties. Of runners gunning for longer distances or better times. Of people running together - not only physically but also emotionally, perhaps even spiritually. Of strong and fast runners helping the not-so-strong-and-fast. Of people running for others. Of inspiring stories and everyday heroes. Of running icons being there to share their light with others, so others can glow themselves.

The Field of Dreams exists for who those believe. Never stop believing.

Kaleidoscope: Photos from takbo.ph LSD

Group photos courtesy of Dr. Marvin Opulencia

Every color and every hue
Is represented by me and you
Take a slide in the slope
Take a look in the kaleidoscope
Spinnin' round, make it twirl
In this kaleidoscope world

- FrancisM (1964-2009)

Swimming for the Whale Sharks

I am supposed to run for the whale sharks. However, my calf muscles do not want to run for almost two weeks now, so I am swimming instead.

While friends happily run on the oval across the road, I had an Olympic-sized pool all to myself. Normally I would have loved the solitude, but leg misery loves company and I would not have minded other souls wallowing with me. I actually like crowded pools now - the better for me to practice swimming with sharks like in an aquathlon or triathlon. I also like to help my new-found military friends - lifeguards/coaches in the pool of the Phil Army Wellness Center. I figured if more people use the facilities, the swim fees will somehow trickle to them (I hope).

I did 20 X 50m swim intervals. I aimed for speed and timed myself. I normally only use my legs to keep me afloat so I am not sure how helpful these swim drills are in preparing me for my Skyway run. But I do not have much choice, so I swam ahead with the belief that doing so will at least keep me fit for the run. I aimed to swim each 50m lap within a minute. Lucky me managed to do that 16 times out of 20, and averaged well within a minute. I even trimmed my 2-week old lap record by a second. My 56 seconds is still light years away from the Philippine record of 22 seconds, but what the heck it is still a PR for me. My worst lap at 1:03 is not so bad either.

I did the butterfly next. The self-taught me never really learned/mastered the fly. The fly properly executed is poetry in motion -- a jaw-dropping combination of power and elegance. When poorly done, it is a sorry sight. Having grown watching the Man from Atlantis do dolphin kicks, I think I have a passable rendition of the kick. The challenge for me has always been to do the essense of the stroke - to soar above water and fly. With my excess weight and incommensurate strength, I am simply not strong enough to fly. I picture myself more as a caterpillar bobbing through water, rather than a butterfly in flight. I was tired after the free style, but I tried to soar above water. I thought if I could finally soar I would be race ready for the Skyway. If I fly above water, I can run on the Sky. I had not flown that night - not yet - but I'll get there.

If I could not run, I would fly.

I believe I can fly.