Category Archives: Bullish Insights

[ HELL: 16 Aug, 6 am to 6 pm ]

Hellish. Hellacious. Infernal. Whatever you want to call it, I just knew it was going to be a dreadful day. The numbers on the wall (er, scale) said it. I had gained a whopping 5 lbs. since my fainting incident 26 days ago. I was close to gaining back all the weight I lost through running! For the past month, I had stuffed myself silly with every salty meal that crossed my path—and that would mean quite an amount because I had intentionally stopped at every grocery to plunder their junkfood aisle—in an effort to increase my abnormally low blood pressure and avoid another fainting episode. As I stared at the scale over my protruding belly, I felt a little woozy about those horrible numbers and I thought “Has all my running been put to waste?”

Me and my bloated self sulked all throughout the stormy day. I had even missed my Virtual Run No. 4 earlier in the morning so I had nothing to pull some running inspiration from. I planned on running on my home treadmill but I could barely put my shoes on. “What for?” I thought.

For the first time since I started my love affair with running, I had serious doubts about him. With James Ingram playing in the background (okay, I’m kidding), I wondered if he could still give me what I needed from this relationship. Was I giving too much without getting back anything in return? Despite the pain from my broken heart, I pushed myself to overcome the disappointment and climbed unto the treadmill for the longest 5k of my life.

[ HEAVEN: 16 Aug, 6 pm onwards ]

The Mizuno Run Club was going to start at 7 pm. By 6 pm, I still couldn’t decide if I should drive all the way to Bonifacio High Street for what I thought would be a mere 3k run. At that point, I was still in a demoralized/lethargic state. “What the hell, I’ll go anyway. It beats watching the evening news.” I thought.

I arrive at the scene to see the same group of elite runners that were present last week. Where were the other beginners? It was just me, Tricia, my college friend and fellow H@ppy Feet member, and Mandy, a boxer/runner I met that evening who were relatively the only beginners present. Oh, did I mention we were the only women too?

Hey, wazzup wazzup?! It was a pleasant surprise to finally meet Unang Hirit host Drew Arellano who is a runner and aspiring triathlete himself. I slapped myself on the head for leaving my camera at home that day. (Drew, if you’re reading this, could you please just send me a photo with your autograph on it? You could also send me some handgel because I haven’t watched the hand that you shook last night. Haha.)

Before the run, the fellows at Mizuno happily lent me the Wave Creation 8 that they recommended for my normal/high arch foot. Boy oh boy, as I dipped my feet into this shoe, I thought it fit my feet perfectly well. It was snug but not too tight, it was light, and it looked like a kick-ass racing shoe. I’ve been a New Balance fan for the longest time and, quite honestly, with Mizuno’s knowledgeable salesmen and outstanding shoe (sure beat my wide, bulky, heavy NB 1222’s), I was being converted. I was eager to test this shoe’s performance during the run. (Nope, this is not a paid endorsement!)

– Mizuno Wave Creation 8. You shall be mine. –

Coach Ige Lopez announces our route plan in which I hear the magic words “5k” (Woohoo, it’s a bit longer than I expected!) and “walang iwanan” (No one gets left behind. Thank God because the elite runners run twice my speed) and then we’re off. At first, the three of us are such girls—we chat, we laugh, and even scream as we cross the street amid fast-paced cars in the dark of the night. Then, as the gap increases between us and the other runners, we stop talking and start ruuuunnniiing. Before I know it, around 15 minutes into the run, I am running at race pace (or faster) in an effort to keep up with the last male runners before me. I have no idea where Tricia and Mandy are. Finally, I run along with the male runners and I’m pleasantly surprised to discover it is Jujet de Asis, the 3rd fastest runner in the country. Little ol’ me running along with Jujet! Oh, I must’ve looked crazy smiling from ear to ear.

We’re back at Mizuno in around 30 minutes. That one run gives me the much needed inspiration I was yearning for all day. I feel fitter, stronger, and last but not the least, lighter. (Rightfully so after two 5k runs that day!) Of course, I think that my showbiz encounter and run with Jujet added to the excitement.

I chat briefly with Coach Ige before leaving and he gives me two important tips:

1) It’s better to run on asphalt than concrete which can be hard on the knees and feet. He tells me that Alabang’s roads are made of concrete so I better start searching for a new playground. Gulp.

2) After asking Coach Ige if I should focus on increasing my 10k speed or increasing my distance to prepare for an eventual marathon, he advises me to focus on distance. He says that by building endurance with long runs, the speed for shorter distances will naturally follow.

Back home, I make a pact with myself to forget those nightmarish numbers on the scale. I’ll just scrap the junk (so so difficult for me) and eat properly. In my mind, I imagine myself on white, puffy clouds back in the arms of my beloved running! I am happy again. Aw, pure heaven.

3 out of 4 runs only on a treadmill
(Sore knees were all I got from pushing too far on a treadmill. I was yearning to run on the road all week.)

+

2 vomiting kids
(Were germs this wicked during our time?)

+

1 missed virtual run
(due to 2 vomiting kids)

+

2 strong storms
(Good riddance to Chedeng and Dodong! I will never forgive you for ruining my runs…but then again I am grateful for increasing our depressingly low water supply. Egay, don’t you even think of visiting my running route this week!)

=

1 Sick Bull Runner

That encapsulates the week that was for me. And, as I… [sneeze]

write this, I am still afflicted with the… [cough]

common cold as almost everyone… [ehem]

here in Manila is. [wipe nose]

I would love to chat but… [drop strepsils into mouth]

I would rather conserve energy for… [achoo]

a good run—yes, I still run despite the cold… [move strepsils to left cheek]

rather than waste it on…[move strepsils to the right]

typing out letters on the keyboard. [sniffle]

[ REST ]

Aaaaw, it was a scene straight out of the movies…or maybe just a postcard. I parked my car at the soccer field of Alabang Country Club yesterday morning and paused for a few minutes to appreciate the spectacle before me: the sun was about to rise. How I missed seeing the early morning sun! On this occassion—unlike so many others in the past (wherein I was just probably PMSing at that time)—I had every right to be melodramatic about this run.

I had been through Runner’s Hell and back the past week. (“Runner’s Hell” because only my running life was in turmoil. Apart from my kid’s yaya going on an emergency 2-week leave, life was pretty much happy. Hubby has a job and no mistress. My preschoolers do not take drugs.) My running life was threatened because of my fainting incident two Saturdays ago. At a time when I should’ve been running the Milo 10k, I was at home downing bottles of Gatorade to forget the missed race. While I was supposed to be training for Run to Bring Hope, I was wasting away at clinics begging doctors to allow me to run again. I thought the week would never end. But, as my equally sentimental friend Rico once told me, “After the rain, comes the rainbow.” In my case, the rainbow came straight out of my doctor’s mouth last Saturday. After evaluating my results from my Treadmill Test, he announces “There’s nothing wrong with your heart. Go ahead and run.”

The Bull Runner wastes no time. The day after, which was yesterday, I met with Coach B at 5:15 am for my first road run in two long-drawn-out weeks. Against the backdrop of the rising sun, I felt like I was starting anew. Goodbye to talks of fanting spells and failed runs, I thought. It’s time to get back into the groove of things.

We set out for a 15km run in my favorite playground, Ayala Alabang. Coach B labelled this our “Recovery Run” since he was still recovering from Milo’s 42k (Congrats again, Coach!) and I from my brief running break. In the beginning, my feet felt like they were anchored to the road. They were so unbelievably stiff and heavy. Gradually, at around 2k, I found my rhythm and felt at ease. Aaah, I missed this even more than the rising sun! Our pace was slower than usual (5’26″/km to be exact) but it was alright. Man, it was great! I was just glad to be running again. I would’ve stopped to kiss the road but decided otherwise for fear it would look like I was fainting again.

That run was unforgettable. It was my first 15k. Yeah! But, even beyond the new record, it was unlike any other run I’ve had in the past because of what I’d been through. I came so close to losing running forever. And, after saying the phrase “I will die if I don’t run” so many times the past week, I felt so alive to be given the chance to just run again. So, after our 1 hr and 22 mins of pure bliss on the road, before we parted ways with Coach, I just had to say it “I’m back!” Oh yes, The Bull Runner is back!

As I write this, it has been exactly 4,302 minutes since my last run. You know how long that is for an addicted runner like me? Just about as long as your wait when you are the 15th in line for the toilet and you got one minute before the race starts.

Last week was the first time that I ran just twice in a week—both of which were unchallenging, mediocre treadmill runs. My training log is cursing me for leaving him an orphan. My ipod is gathering dust. My tummy has morphed into a blob of jello. And, my feet—ah my feet—they are smooth, blister-free, and relaxed. Just the way non-runners like them.

Needless to say, I am grouchy, bloated, and whiny. If you see me, do not say hi. You must run for your life, especially if you are in red running gear, for The Bull Runner shall attack.

Okay, I’m exaggerating again as I always do. Despite the foul mood, I manage a little smile every hour or so, but these are reserved only for my husband and children—and myself whenever I open a block of Choc-nut in between my bouts of depression.

I’m saving just one wide thankful grin for my doctor later this afternoon though. I got a blood test this morning and, as soon as I get the results, I’ll go for a check up. I’m pretty sure nothing is wrong. My guess is that I’m anemic or I should be eating more nutritious foods, but nothing serious. (Nope, I am not pregnant. I’m 100% sure!)  I shall ask my doctor, “So, doc, can I start running again tonight? And, can I join the Run for HOPE on Sunday?” To which he will most definitely reply, “By all means, go ahead and run.” And, with that, I shall instantly return to my normal happy self again with a wide grin to show for it.

All I see is green. Among the mass of 10,000 runners clad in green, I find my way towards the clear roads of Roxas Boulevard. I am running, no flying. Other runners stare in disbelief as they fall like bowling pins knocked out by a speeding ball. I run the streets as if it is mine. I see nothing and feel nothing. I am running faster than I have ever had in my life. In the blink of an eye, the race is over. Crowds cheer. I look around to realize I am the first one to cross the finish line. I am the winner!

I wake up at exactly 5:58 this morning with that wonderful dream. (Yes, boys and girls it was a dream. What did you think?) My only thought upon waking was: two more minutes to the start of the race—and I missed it. I lay in bed watching the clock. One minute more. 30 seconds. 10. 3…2…1…and they are off. Me too—but I am headed towards the bathroom. This sucks.

Why did I miss the race? Because of my “little” incident last night:

After dinner in Teriyaki Boy, we—my hubby, son, daughter, and I—hop over to our favorite weekend haunt: Timezone in Alabang Town Center. In about 10 minutes, my stomach starts acting up. I ask my hubby to watch the kids while I walk in haste towards the nearest restroom. It’s a short walk, but not to me. As I wobble through the corridor towards the comfort room, my tummy starts churning, my vision becomes hazy, and I suddenly feel like I’ve been possessed by a drunk Britney Spears. When I reach the door to the comfort room, a woman holds me up and asks “Are you okay?” to which I can barely find the strength to reply a simple yes. I clumsily find my way to a cubicle and enter.

There are women chatting and I am watching them from afar. I walk towards one of them. I am about to tap her in the shoulder when…

I open my eyes to hear voices “Miss, wake up. Wake up.” in tagalog. I was just dreaming. I look around to discover that I am lying on the floor of the comfort room in the arms of two janitresses who apparently caught my fall. God, I fainted. For the first time in my entire life, I fainted?!

Three security guards help locate my husband and kids and—even if I feel alright after a couple of visits to the toilet—they insist on taking me to nearby Asian Hospital. I hesitate, but relent. Before we know it, I am whisked away in a wheelchair towards the gates of the mall. God, this is so embarassing, I think. When we reach the exit, there is a large crowd curious to see who shall enter the ambulance that awaits. OMG, this is even more humiliating. I wish I had a brown bag to cover my head. I will die if I see anyone I know. I stand up, smile at everyone, and ride the ambulance towards Asian Hospital.

By the time we get home it is around 9 pm. I ask my hubby about the Milo race and he curtly replies “Don’t even think about it.” I pretend not to hear it and send SMS messages to my sister Janice and two other runner friends Mayi and Annie about the incident. All of them advise the same thing: “Don’t run.” Being the bull-headed runner (er, I mean The Bull Runner) that I am, I refuse to even think of skipping the race, but I don’t have a choice. It would be crazy to risk my health for a race. Besides, I think that fainting in a marathon is a hundred times worse than doing so in a bathroom with a handful of people as an audience.

So, there goes my Milo Manila Marathon story, which was certainly not the Milo Marathon race report you probably anticipated. To all those who crossed the finish line, congratulations! Annie, Coach, Mayi, Jamike, and Happy Feet: sayang, I didn’t get to see you there! To those who pledged through me for Kythe: I ran 0km but if you still wish to commit to your pledge I can still donate it directly to Kythe—or you may wait for my next race. Banggigay, Marga, Roselle, and Neville: shucks, I missed meeting you for the first time! Not to worry, there will be more races…like next week’s Run for Hope? haha.

Oh, and for those who have lingering questions about the cause of my fainting, here are the answers:

• Nope, I’m not pregnant. At least I don’t think so.
• Yes, I eat. I am not anorexic.
• No, I will not be suing Teriyaki Boy. I’ve ruled out food poisoning because my family ate the same thing I did.
• Yes, I’ll get myself checked.
• Yes, I will still continue running.
• No, I will not give you my Milo singlet!

Thank you to Alabang Town Center for taking very good care of me—specifically the two janitresses, three security guards, ambulance driver and his companion. I regret that I didn’t get their names, but I’ll surely be writing you to let you know of the wonderful people you have in your team.