He’s coming.
I don’t know what makes me say it, but I know every word is true. This long and patient wait would have been all worth it. The pain I had to go through, the challenges I had to surpass—all these add up to who I am today.
The people I have met, the names I will soon forget, the faces I will forever remember—all these will be trivialities when he’s already here.
And it excites me, really—that he’s just around the corner and we’ll meet each other pretty soon.
He’s coming, and I, I’m just here.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
ligaw
Noong isang araw, nakausap ko ang isang matalik kong kaibigan. Matagal na kaming hindi nakakapagusap. Malayo kami sa isa't isa, halos isang taon na kaming di nagkikita.
Natural lang na tanungin niya ako: "Kamusta ka na?"
Madalas, napakadaling sabihin na: "Okay lang ako. Ikaw?"
At mapuputol ang pag-uusap. Hindi na masyado nag-uusap ang mga tao ngayon.
Ngunit, naisip ko na napakahalaga ng pagkakataong ito. Sa pagtatanong niya kung kamusta na ako, binibigyan niya ako ng pagkakataong muling makapasok sa buhay niya--muling mabuksan ang ugnayan. Tao sa kapwa tao.
----
"Nawawala ako, naliligaw," ang sabi ko sa kanya.
"Awww, that couldn't possibly be a good thing, what makes you say that?" ang tugon niya.
"Sa totoo lang, sa palagay ko, tamang tama ang kinalalagyan ko ngayon."
Nawawala ako pero okay lang. Kasi sa pagkakataong ito, lahat ng bagay, bago. Wala akong inaasahan kundi ang pagpapatuloy ng lakad ko. Bawat hakbang tungo sa panibagong karanasan. Ngayon masasabi kong tunay ang aking pagdanas.
Nakikita ko ang kagandahan ng kapaligiran. Hindi ako nagmamadali, dinaranas ko ang bawat pagkakataon.
Walang pumipilit sa akin na tumahak ng iisang landas. Gumagawa ako ng aking sariling landas.
Hindi mo ba naaalala ang pakiramdam nang tayo'y bata pa at may nadiskubre tayong bago? Pupungay ang ating mga mata sa bawat tagumpay--nawala na sa atin ang kakayahang mabighani sa mga simpleng bagay.
Nawawala ako, oo. At hindi ko nais na ako'y matagpuan. Hindi ako nawawala para hanapin.
Nawawala ako. At gagamitin ko ang pagkakataong ito upang muling makilala ang aking sarili. Upang mahanap ko ang sarili ko.
Nawawala ako, at mabuti yon.
Natural lang na tanungin niya ako: "Kamusta ka na?"
Madalas, napakadaling sabihin na: "Okay lang ako. Ikaw?"
At mapuputol ang pag-uusap. Hindi na masyado nag-uusap ang mga tao ngayon.
Ngunit, naisip ko na napakahalaga ng pagkakataong ito. Sa pagtatanong niya kung kamusta na ako, binibigyan niya ako ng pagkakataong muling makapasok sa buhay niya--muling mabuksan ang ugnayan. Tao sa kapwa tao.
----
"Nawawala ako, naliligaw," ang sabi ko sa kanya.
"Awww, that couldn't possibly be a good thing, what makes you say that?" ang tugon niya.
"Sa totoo lang, sa palagay ko, tamang tama ang kinalalagyan ko ngayon."
Nawawala ako pero okay lang. Kasi sa pagkakataong ito, lahat ng bagay, bago. Wala akong inaasahan kundi ang pagpapatuloy ng lakad ko. Bawat hakbang tungo sa panibagong karanasan. Ngayon masasabi kong tunay ang aking pagdanas.
Nakikita ko ang kagandahan ng kapaligiran. Hindi ako nagmamadali, dinaranas ko ang bawat pagkakataon.
Walang pumipilit sa akin na tumahak ng iisang landas. Gumagawa ako ng aking sariling landas.
Hindi mo ba naaalala ang pakiramdam nang tayo'y bata pa at may nadiskubre tayong bago? Pupungay ang ating mga mata sa bawat tagumpay--nawala na sa atin ang kakayahang mabighani sa mga simpleng bagay.
Nawawala ako, oo. At hindi ko nais na ako'y matagpuan. Hindi ako nawawala para hanapin.
Nawawala ako. At gagamitin ko ang pagkakataong ito upang muling makilala ang aking sarili. Upang mahanap ko ang sarili ko.
Nawawala ako, at mabuti yon.
Monday, September 21, 2009
the things we fail to notice
The First Straw
By Jeffrey McDaniel
By Jeffrey McDaniel
I used to think love was two people sucking
on the same straw to see whose thirst was stronger,
but then I whiffed the crushed walnuts of your nape,
traced jackals in the snow-covered tombstones of your teeth.
I used to think love was a non-stop saxophone solo
in the lungs, till I hung with you like a pair of sneakers
from a phone line, and you promised to always smell
the rose in my kerosene. I used to think love was terminal
pelvic ballet, till you let me jog beside while you pedaled
all over hell on the menstrual bicycle, your tongue
ripping through my prairie like a tornado of paper cuts.
I used to think love was an old man smashing a mirror
over his knee, till you helped me carry the barbell
of my spirit back up the stairs after my car pirouetted
in the dessert. You are my history book. I used to not believe
in fairy tales till I played the dunce in sheep's clothing
and felt how perfectly your foot fit in the glass slipper
of my ass. But then duty wrapped its phone cord
around my ankle and yanked me across the continent.
And now there are three thousand miles between the u
and the s in esophagus. And being without you is like standing
at a cement-filled well with a roll of Yugoslavian nickels
and making a wish. Some days I miss you so much
I'd jump off the roof of your office building
just to catch a glimpse of you on the way down. I wish
we could trade left eyeballs, so we could always see
what the others see. But you're here, I'm there,
and we have only words, a nightly phone call — one chance
to mix feelings into syllables and pour into the receiver,
hope they don't disassemble in that calculus of wire.
And lately — with this whole war thing — the language machine
supporting it — I feel betrayed by the alphabet, like they're
injecting strychnine into my vowels, infecting my consonants,
naming attack helicopters after shattered Indian tribes:
Apache, Blackhawk; and West Bank colonizers are settlers,
so Sharon is Davey Crockett, and Arafat: Geronimo,
and it's the Wild West all over again. And I imagine Picasso
looking in a mirror, decorating his face in war paint,
washing his brushes in venom, and I think of Jenin
in all that rubble, and I feel like a Cyclops with two eyes,
like an anorexic with three mouths, like a scuba diver
in quicksand, like a shark with plastic vampire teeth,
like I'm the executioner's fingernail trying to reason
with the hand. And I don't know how to speak love
when the heart is a busted cup filling with spit and paste,
and the only sexual fantasy I have is busting
into the Pentagon with a bazooka-sized pen and blowing
open the minds of generals. And I comfort myself
with the thought that we'll name our first child Jenin,
and her middle name will be Terezin, and we'll teach her
how to glow in the dark, and how to swallow firecrackers,
and to never neglect the first straw, because no one
ever talks about the first straw, it's always the last straw
that gets all the attention, but by then it's way too late.
------
like how the decision to love another is unconsciously made.
and by then, you slide into this rollercoaster of emotions and pray that you'll come out of it unscathed.
but you very well know that it will not be the case. yet you'll let yourself fall.
on the same straw to see whose thirst was stronger,
but then I whiffed the crushed walnuts of your nape,
traced jackals in the snow-covered tombstones of your teeth.
I used to think love was a non-stop saxophone solo
in the lungs, till I hung with you like a pair of sneakers
from a phone line, and you promised to always smell
the rose in my kerosene. I used to think love was terminal
pelvic ballet, till you let me jog beside while you pedaled
all over hell on the menstrual bicycle, your tongue
ripping through my prairie like a tornado of paper cuts.
I used to think love was an old man smashing a mirror
over his knee, till you helped me carry the barbell
of my spirit back up the stairs after my car pirouetted
in the dessert. You are my history book. I used to not believe
in fairy tales till I played the dunce in sheep's clothing
and felt how perfectly your foot fit in the glass slipper
of my ass. But then duty wrapped its phone cord
around my ankle and yanked me across the continent.
And now there are three thousand miles between the u
and the s in esophagus. And being without you is like standing
at a cement-filled well with a roll of Yugoslavian nickels
and making a wish. Some days I miss you so much
I'd jump off the roof of your office building
just to catch a glimpse of you on the way down. I wish
we could trade left eyeballs, so we could always see
what the others see. But you're here, I'm there,
and we have only words, a nightly phone call — one chance
to mix feelings into syllables and pour into the receiver,
hope they don't disassemble in that calculus of wire.
And lately — with this whole war thing — the language machine
supporting it — I feel betrayed by the alphabet, like they're
injecting strychnine into my vowels, infecting my consonants,
naming attack helicopters after shattered Indian tribes:
Apache, Blackhawk; and West Bank colonizers are settlers,
so Sharon is Davey Crockett, and Arafat: Geronimo,
and it's the Wild West all over again. And I imagine Picasso
looking in a mirror, decorating his face in war paint,
washing his brushes in venom, and I think of Jenin
in all that rubble, and I feel like a Cyclops with two eyes,
like an anorexic with three mouths, like a scuba diver
in quicksand, like a shark with plastic vampire teeth,
like I'm the executioner's fingernail trying to reason
with the hand. And I don't know how to speak love
when the heart is a busted cup filling with spit and paste,
and the only sexual fantasy I have is busting
into the Pentagon with a bazooka-sized pen and blowing
open the minds of generals. And I comfort myself
with the thought that we'll name our first child Jenin,
and her middle name will be Terezin, and we'll teach her
how to glow in the dark, and how to swallow firecrackers,
and to never neglect the first straw, because no one
ever talks about the first straw, it's always the last straw
that gets all the attention, but by then it's way too late.
------
like how the decision to love another is unconsciously made.
and by then, you slide into this rollercoaster of emotions and pray that you'll come out of it unscathed.
but you very well know that it will not be the case. yet you'll let yourself fall.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
a kiss could be just a kiss
The Archipelago of Kisses
by Jeffrey McDaniel
We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don’t
grow on trees, like in the old days. So where
does one find love? When you’re sixteen it’s easy,
like being unleashed with a credit card
in a department store of kisses. There’s the first kiss.
The sloppy kiss. The peck.
The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we
shouldn’t be doing this kiss. The but your lips
taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.
The I wish you’d quit smoking kiss.
The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad
sometimes kiss. The I know
your tongue likes the back of my hand kiss. As you get
older, kisses become scarce. You’ll be driving
home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,
with its purple thumb out. If you
were younger, you’d pull over, slide open the mouth’s
red door just to see how it fits. Oh where
does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile.
Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.
Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.
Now what? Don’t invite the kiss over
and answer the door in your underwear. It’ll get suspicious
and stare at your toes. Don’t water the kiss with whiskey.
It’ll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters,
but in the morning it’ll be ashamed and sneak out of
your body without saying good-bye,
and you’ll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left
on the inside of your mouth. You must
nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it
illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest
and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a
special beach. Place it on the tongue’s pillow,
then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath
a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The
intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss.
The I’ll love you through a brick wall kiss.
Even when I’m dead, I’ll swim through the Earth,
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.
-----
My first real kiss happened about two years ago. It was with a 28-year old guy named Angelo. He was a handsome chap holding a powerful position in my previous company.
We met during a training on leadership. His was the first face I noticed. When I came in our eyes caught each other, and I knew I had to make a move.
Over the course of the training, we became chatty. He'd join my group for lunch, he'd join our conversations. Back then I was always bringing my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, it served to control my food intake during trainings. He made a comment about how tasty it looked, so I offered, but he declined.
The next day, I made him a sandwich. He told me how sweet I was.
We got to exchange numbers and we started texting.
On the last day of training, he invited us out. He wanted to go drinking. My group still had to meet with our manager so we couldn't commit. But he insisted that we follow them, he said they'll wait for us.
Right after the meeting, we went to this bar. He saved a seat for me right next to him. We were all having fun, chatting over mundane stuff and about work. It was a night filled with laughter.
And then he put his hand on my lap.
I was taken aback and I brushed his hand off. That offended him.
After a few more minutes he motioned as if he were about to leave. He asked if I needed a ride but he's getting coffee on the way.
I agreed to ride with him.
We stayed over a coffee shop and chatted some more. He asked why I brushed off his hand.
I said I was caught off guard and I didn't know how to react.
After a few more minutes of chatting, we decided to leave.
Inside the car he became more straightforward. He put my hand on his lap and he put his on mine. He said that I had nothing to worry about--that it was okay. He asked for a kiss. I said I was not ready.
I gave him a peck on the cheek.
He wanted more.
He asked if I could kiss him on the lips. Not knowing what else to do, I gave him what he wanted.
It was short. Our lips just touched and stayed together a bit: no movement, no tongue.
-----
When I got home, I immediately texted my best friend. I came out to him that night telling him that I have found the one.
He was surprised at the revelation, and at how fast things were happening. But he said he understands and he'll be there to support me.
A few days after, Angelo stopped texting.
-----
I did not know what happened.
But I realized, I wasted my first kiss.
by Jeffrey McDaniel
We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don’t
grow on trees, like in the old days. So where
does one find love? When you’re sixteen it’s easy,
like being unleashed with a credit card
in a department store of kisses. There’s the first kiss.
The sloppy kiss. The peck.
The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we
shouldn’t be doing this kiss. The but your lips
taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.
The I wish you’d quit smoking kiss.
The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad
sometimes kiss. The I know
your tongue likes the back of my hand kiss. As you get
older, kisses become scarce. You’ll be driving
home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,
with its purple thumb out. If you
were younger, you’d pull over, slide open the mouth’s
red door just to see how it fits. Oh where
does one find love? If you rub two glances, you get a smile.
Rub two smiles, you get a warm feeling.
Rub two warm feelings and presto-you have a kiss.
Now what? Don’t invite the kiss over
and answer the door in your underwear. It’ll get suspicious
and stare at your toes. Don’t water the kiss with whiskey.
It’ll turn bright pink and explode into a thousand luscious splinters,
but in the morning it’ll be ashamed and sneak out of
your body without saying good-bye,
and you’ll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left
on the inside of your mouth. You must
nurture the kiss. Turn out the lights. Notice how it
illuminates the room. Hold it to your chest
and wonder if the sand inside hourglasses comes from a
special beach. Place it on the tongue’s pillow,
then look up the first recorded kiss in an encyclopedia: beneath
a Babylonian olive tree in 1200 B.C.
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The
intersection of function and desire. The I do kiss.
The I’ll love you through a brick wall kiss.
Even when I’m dead, I’ll swim through the Earth,
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.
-----
My first real kiss happened about two years ago. It was with a 28-year old guy named Angelo. He was a handsome chap holding a powerful position in my previous company.
We met during a training on leadership. His was the first face I noticed. When I came in our eyes caught each other, and I knew I had to make a move.
Over the course of the training, we became chatty. He'd join my group for lunch, he'd join our conversations. Back then I was always bringing my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, it served to control my food intake during trainings. He made a comment about how tasty it looked, so I offered, but he declined.
The next day, I made him a sandwich. He told me how sweet I was.
We got to exchange numbers and we started texting.
On the last day of training, he invited us out. He wanted to go drinking. My group still had to meet with our manager so we couldn't commit. But he insisted that we follow them, he said they'll wait for us.
Right after the meeting, we went to this bar. He saved a seat for me right next to him. We were all having fun, chatting over mundane stuff and about work. It was a night filled with laughter.
And then he put his hand on my lap.
I was taken aback and I brushed his hand off. That offended him.
After a few more minutes he motioned as if he were about to leave. He asked if I needed a ride but he's getting coffee on the way.
I agreed to ride with him.
We stayed over a coffee shop and chatted some more. He asked why I brushed off his hand.
I said I was caught off guard and I didn't know how to react.
After a few more minutes of chatting, we decided to leave.
Inside the car he became more straightforward. He put my hand on his lap and he put his on mine. He said that I had nothing to worry about--that it was okay. He asked for a kiss. I said I was not ready.
I gave him a peck on the cheek.
He wanted more.
He asked if I could kiss him on the lips. Not knowing what else to do, I gave him what he wanted.
It was short. Our lips just touched and stayed together a bit: no movement, no tongue.
-----
When I got home, I immediately texted my best friend. I came out to him that night telling him that I have found the one.
He was surprised at the revelation, and at how fast things were happening. But he said he understands and he'll be there to support me.
A few days after, Angelo stopped texting.
-----
I did not know what happened.
But I realized, I wasted my first kiss.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Eco-Dash: 21k
I had serious doubts about the run today. It started when I first saw the race kits after picking it up from Greenbelt 3. My friends and I were excited to join the run because it was sponsored by Ayala. And since we had a good experience after running in the Run for Home event by Globe, we felt that Ayala will just re-do the whole thing with Eco-Dash.
Boy, we thought wrong.
When I got the race packs, the first thing I looked for was if there were race chips in the kits. I was taken aback when I found out that there were none! My hope of documenting my second 21k with accurate data has been shattered. But I thought to myself, I am doing it for the environmental cause anyway.
-----
Week of the race
The rain has been unceasing. And my fear of running in the rain is slowly getting more and more real. I have not tried it before and if it were only up to me, I would never want to try it.
I've been praying for the sun to come out and whenever it does, it serves as a beacon of hope. I will not need to run in the rain!
Sadly, the king sun had other plans for the rest of the week. He's ill-tempered and a bit too hard to find. It was raining the day before the race. Shoot.
Apart from the sun problem, I haven't been training as much as I should. I've been doing yoga to build my core's resistance but I haven't been doing the long distance runs and interval trainings that I used to do to prepare for my runs. I've been running to warm up before my PT session but that only takes me 15 minutes to do almost 3k. The longest distance I was able to finish this week was 10k on the treadmill, which might not be enough or comparable if I had run on asphalt.
So it's not just the weather that worried me with the race. I was concerned about whether I was really prepared for this race or not. And at the back of my head, I knew I wasn't.
-----
Day before the race
I didn't realize my friend's wedding will be in a really far-flung location (with roads that are characterized by potholes of various shapes, width and depth.). I absolutely love weddings so I could not afford to not witness this union.
Despite the 21k run the following day, I still drove all the way down south for the wedding. I originally planned to leave after the mass cause I wanted to attend MGG's party (awesome party, btw), but my friends coerced me to stay until dinner.
It wasn't such a bad idea. I was full when I got to MGG's party and I didn't have to eat anymore.
My original plan after the wedding was to stay at MGG's party until around 1030 so I can still get adequate sleep for the run the next day. But the will is weak and the company was very much enjoyable (plus there are cute boys present) and I ended up staying until 1130.
I got home at 12 midnight, performed my pre-bed rituals and then hit the sack.
-----
Race day
Jamiedavinci was ringing my phone. He called at the exact time he promised last night. It was 3 effing am. I was still sleepy but I can hear the rain pouring outside.
"Tuloy ba tayo?"
"Ewan ko, titigil din yan later."
"Sige, game tuloy tayo."
"See you in a bit."
So I wore my race attire (my red Nike drifit singlet and Nike tutoy shorts) and drove off.
Five minutes after leaving the house, I realized I forgot my earphones. I called up my dad and told him to meet me nearby so he could bring my earphones.
When he got to the agreed meeting place, I realized I also missed my race kit. I CANNOT RUN WITHOUT MY RACE KIT. So at fifteen past four in the morning, I was shuttling from my house to where I left my car.
I was afraid I was gonna be late so I drove as fast yet as careful as I could. In 30 minutes I was at the Fort looking for parking.
-----
The Race
With barely 4 hours of sleep, I was anxious about how I was gonna perform in the run. I didn't have energy gels with me. What will I do when I feel tired in the middle of the race?
It was drizzling when the race started. Everyone was caught offguard when we suddenly heard the gunfire without the countdown. Everyone dashed in the rain. I had to be conscious about my speed at the start of the race. I couldn't afford to get carried away and run at my fastest because everyone else is doing so. I had to force the thought to myself: "You run at your own pace, conserve your energy."
The drizzle was annoying at first. I hated the times when my sweat got mixed up with the rain and it gets into my eyes. At one point, I had to stop and use my shirt to wipe my face. Futile, I know.
Amazingly, the ascent to the Kalayaan flyover wasn't so difficult this time. I guess the cool breeze helped. I was trying to pace myself with this really old foreigner guy (you have to get a comparison other that can be beaten!) and whenever I get past him, he'd always find a way to catch up. When we reached the foot of the flyover, that's when I clearly made a solid gap between the two of us.
We turned left to Paseo de Roxas and then left again to Makati Ave. We went straight until we got to the street after Makati Shang and turned left there. The roundabout was the turning point for that leg of the race, we had to go through the same route until we reached the Jollibee after the Shell gas station. We turned right until we got to the Hyundai showroom and then turned right again to Fifth street heading to Essensa. The route continued until after the AFP HQ and then went as far as the Heritage Park where we made the U-turn upon approaching C5. We went back until that Jollibee store where we made the right turn to do the last leg of the race.
-----
I was crying when I approached the street that separates High Street and Serendra. I just couldn't help thinking about the difficulty I had experienced during the entire run. I felt a stinging pain on the outside of my left knee (possibly runner's knee) and it slowed me down. I had to walk from the AFP until McKinley Hill.
And if not for this guy who motivated me, I wouldn't have continued running. Thanks to you guy in a Miracle Run shirt (last year's version)!
That race sure broke me, physically and emotionally. But I do not feel any regret running it.
I don't know my official time yet but if what I saw is true, I finished probably in less than 2 hours! If that's the case, then I have achieved my goal to do a sub 2 hour-21k! :)
I'm running again next sunday at the Rota-Run (15k practice run). See you there!
Boy, we thought wrong.
When I got the race packs, the first thing I looked for was if there were race chips in the kits. I was taken aback when I found out that there were none! My hope of documenting my second 21k with accurate data has been shattered. But I thought to myself, I am doing it for the environmental cause anyway.
-----
Week of the race
The rain has been unceasing. And my fear of running in the rain is slowly getting more and more real. I have not tried it before and if it were only up to me, I would never want to try it.
I've been praying for the sun to come out and whenever it does, it serves as a beacon of hope. I will not need to run in the rain!
Sadly, the king sun had other plans for the rest of the week. He's ill-tempered and a bit too hard to find. It was raining the day before the race. Shoot.
Apart from the sun problem, I haven't been training as much as I should. I've been doing yoga to build my core's resistance but I haven't been doing the long distance runs and interval trainings that I used to do to prepare for my runs. I've been running to warm up before my PT session but that only takes me 15 minutes to do almost 3k. The longest distance I was able to finish this week was 10k on the treadmill, which might not be enough or comparable if I had run on asphalt.
So it's not just the weather that worried me with the race. I was concerned about whether I was really prepared for this race or not. And at the back of my head, I knew I wasn't.
-----
Day before the race
I didn't realize my friend's wedding will be in a really far-flung location (with roads that are characterized by potholes of various shapes, width and depth.). I absolutely love weddings so I could not afford to not witness this union.
Despite the 21k run the following day, I still drove all the way down south for the wedding. I originally planned to leave after the mass cause I wanted to attend MGG's party (awesome party, btw), but my friends coerced me to stay until dinner.
It wasn't such a bad idea. I was full when I got to MGG's party and I didn't have to eat anymore.
My original plan after the wedding was to stay at MGG's party until around 1030 so I can still get adequate sleep for the run the next day. But the will is weak and the company was very much enjoyable (plus there are cute boys present) and I ended up staying until 1130.
I got home at 12 midnight, performed my pre-bed rituals and then hit the sack.
-----
Race day
Jamiedavinci was ringing my phone. He called at the exact time he promised last night. It was 3 effing am. I was still sleepy but I can hear the rain pouring outside.
"Tuloy ba tayo?"
"Ewan ko, titigil din yan later."
"Sige, game tuloy tayo."
"See you in a bit."
So I wore my race attire (my red Nike drifit singlet and Nike tutoy shorts) and drove off.
Five minutes after leaving the house, I realized I forgot my earphones. I called up my dad and told him to meet me nearby so he could bring my earphones.
When he got to the agreed meeting place, I realized I also missed my race kit. I CANNOT RUN WITHOUT MY RACE KIT. So at fifteen past four in the morning, I was shuttling from my house to where I left my car.
I was afraid I was gonna be late so I drove as fast yet as careful as I could. In 30 minutes I was at the Fort looking for parking.
-----
The Race
With barely 4 hours of sleep, I was anxious about how I was gonna perform in the run. I didn't have energy gels with me. What will I do when I feel tired in the middle of the race?
It was drizzling when the race started. Everyone was caught offguard when we suddenly heard the gunfire without the countdown. Everyone dashed in the rain. I had to be conscious about my speed at the start of the race. I couldn't afford to get carried away and run at my fastest because everyone else is doing so. I had to force the thought to myself: "You run at your own pace, conserve your energy."
The drizzle was annoying at first. I hated the times when my sweat got mixed up with the rain and it gets into my eyes. At one point, I had to stop and use my shirt to wipe my face. Futile, I know.
Amazingly, the ascent to the Kalayaan flyover wasn't so difficult this time. I guess the cool breeze helped. I was trying to pace myself with this really old foreigner guy (you have to get a comparison other that can be beaten!) and whenever I get past him, he'd always find a way to catch up. When we reached the foot of the flyover, that's when I clearly made a solid gap between the two of us.
We turned left to Paseo de Roxas and then left again to Makati Ave. We went straight until we got to the street after Makati Shang and turned left there. The roundabout was the turning point for that leg of the race, we had to go through the same route until we reached the Jollibee after the Shell gas station. We turned right until we got to the Hyundai showroom and then turned right again to Fifth street heading to Essensa. The route continued until after the AFP HQ and then went as far as the Heritage Park where we made the U-turn upon approaching C5. We went back until that Jollibee store where we made the right turn to do the last leg of the race.
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I was crying when I approached the street that separates High Street and Serendra. I just couldn't help thinking about the difficulty I had experienced during the entire run. I felt a stinging pain on the outside of my left knee (possibly runner's knee) and it slowed me down. I had to walk from the AFP until McKinley Hill.
And if not for this guy who motivated me, I wouldn't have continued running. Thanks to you guy in a Miracle Run shirt (last year's version)!
That race sure broke me, physically and emotionally. But I do not feel any regret running it.
I don't know my official time yet but if what I saw is true, I finished probably in less than 2 hours! If that's the case, then I have achieved my goal to do a sub 2 hour-21k! :)
I'm running again next sunday at the Rota-Run (15k practice run). See you there!
Saturday, September 5, 2009
bully
Last Saturday, my friends and I watched District 9. It was supposedly Up, in 3D but most of us have already seen it. I have seen Up already, I just wanted to see it again because I fell asleep for the most part of the movie when I first saw it.
So District 9 was the next best movie option.
I have no idea what it was about, except I guess that it's a sci-fi thriller.
The row only had four seats, three of us have already seated and I expected no one to sit beside me anymore. But you'll never know, really. I guess some people really wanted to see the movie.
So in goes a seven year old kid with his large lemonade and a bag of chips.
The movie started.
You see, I'm expressive and I get rattled easily. In those times, I mutter "oh my god," or "fuck," or "shit." And it's my way of releasing stress from the movie. It's not like I scream or anything whenever I do it. It's a bit louder than a whisper but not enough to disrupt other people.
So when I first encountered an oh my god moment, I let it out.
The kid beside me then said: "Please be quiet."
I let it pass.
The next exhilirating scene followed and I said: "shit!"
He again reminded me to be quiet.
I kept everything to myself until the very end of the movie. I never spoke another word until the movie finished. And I ended up so stressed out. I left the movie with a very heavy feeling.
And it's not just because of the movie, it's also because I realized, I let a kid bully me.
So District 9 was the next best movie option.
I have no idea what it was about, except I guess that it's a sci-fi thriller.
The row only had four seats, three of us have already seated and I expected no one to sit beside me anymore. But you'll never know, really. I guess some people really wanted to see the movie.
So in goes a seven year old kid with his large lemonade and a bag of chips.
The movie started.
You see, I'm expressive and I get rattled easily. In those times, I mutter "oh my god," or "fuck," or "shit." And it's my way of releasing stress from the movie. It's not like I scream or anything whenever I do it. It's a bit louder than a whisper but not enough to disrupt other people.
So when I first encountered an oh my god moment, I let it out.
The kid beside me then said: "Please be quiet."
I let it pass.
The next exhilirating scene followed and I said: "shit!"
He again reminded me to be quiet.
I kept everything to myself until the very end of the movie. I never spoke another word until the movie finished. And I ended up so stressed out. I left the movie with a very heavy feeling.
And it's not just because of the movie, it's also because I realized, I let a kid bully me.
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