Gingerbread Dreams :On Finally Breaking The Sub-50 Barrier

Yes, Yes YES!

Those were the words ringing in my head as I was sprinting to the finish line at yesterday's Philippine International Marathon 10k race. Not prematurely as was my folly in the numerous times I have faltered in the past - I made sure the celebration came when the mat was right in front of me. I took time to savor the moment... and sought to retrace the twists and turns leading up to it.

Finally! Yay!

What's the big deal?

To some, a sub-50 finish may not seem like a particularly big deal. But to me, it takes on a certain measure of significance as it represents the pinnacle of a particularly tough climb from the recesses of an unhealthy downward spiral. Not to mention finally getting past a mental hurdle that had incessantly gotten the best of me. I was actually so close to giving up on it already. Just let it go man. It ain't meant to be.




Not in the blood

Why was this the case? I was thinking, maybe I just don't have it in me. You know how some people are just natural athletes? Introduce them to running, and right off the bat they could run a 45 minute 10k split with no training at all. I was never one of those people. Not even close. Blame it on poor genes. I have had the benefit of having totally unathletic parents, unless you consider competitive eating a sport. In high school, could never run the fastest, nor jump the highest. My friends could touch the basketball rim. I could touch the .... board. I even tried killing myself with Jumpsoles, ever remember those things? Nah, didn't work. Not in the blood I guess.

My Dad could take this dude any day, name the place

Humble Beginnings

My first 10k was a 1:28. In what was to be a precursor to my positive split strategy, I started out really fast.... only to bottom out during the 2nd half. I had no conditioning to speak of. I was also um, fat. 205 lbs. Gak. I was so conscious of my pata that I wore jogging pants. Yeah, the baggy type that was all the rage in the 1990's. I seemed to have been passed by every Tom, Dick and Harry along with Jane. Depressingly, I nearly threw up at the finish line. Yeah. Talk about being out of shape.

Grandpa beat me fair and square

Getting Ambitious

Long,painstaking hours of lonesome training later and I found myself clearing the sub-60 and sub-55 marks in rapid succession. Hey, I like this. I'm actually... getting to be good at this. Admittedly, I'm a competitive running junkie. Don't know if that's a good thing, but I constantly benchmark against the very best runners in our group. I want to force myself to get better. Wanting to take my game to the next level, I discovered that lowering the bar from 55 - 50 was becoming exponentially harder.

Wanna go up the ladder? It's harder than you think.

Breakdown City


My best shot came at Ayala Eco-Dash. Let you in on my thought process during those crucial final moments :

They say that running is just as much mental as physical, sometimes even more. I completely agree, 100%. Here I was , on the cusp of beating one of my biggest running goals, and I was doing a completely chokejob. Mentally, I was messed up. I was freaking out and panicking. Prematurely celebrating, I was even thinking of a title for the blog post already. ... and ended up missing it by 15 seconds. Damn. Oh the heartbreak.

Breakdowns put you in esteemed company

This is It?

In an attempt to finally slay the ghosts of 10k breakdowns past, I had resolved to join this year's Philippine International Marathon. Good friend/"doping like effect coach/Conquer Corregidor head honcho Edward Kho told me "this was the flattest course I have ever ran". Knowing that the route would take me across Roxas Blvd, I said to myself,hey, maybe I'll get lucky this time.

I rushed to get to the venue as early as 3:30 in a lame attempt to meet Sir Jovie aka Bald Runner to get my 1,000 Km club shirt. No such luck. I was there 3:30, took me about 40 minutes to find a parking slot. By that time they had already gone off for the start of the 42k. Boo. Maybe next time.

So in short, I waited for several hours until the 6:00 am gun. Former President FVR actually dropped by, gave us runners in the front rows a quick pep talk. He seems like a nice guy. In hindsight though, don't they all?


Panic Mode

As the race began, I was a little off-tangent because everyone next to me was sprinting like a madman. You sort of get caught up in it. Or maybe that's just the sheer lack of conditioning, nursing flu-like symptoms all week. Took me some time to get into any rhythm whatsoever, and the splits showed it - 4:13. 4:35, 4:55. Oh no. It's not supposed to go down that fast . Nooooo!!!! Breathe. Relax. And just as I felt I was getting my bearings back, i ran right smack into the last thing I wanted to see - a flyover. So much for a completely flat course. Noooo. I felt my sub-50 dreams evaporate right then and there.

What a waste. I lost pace with those two flyovers. Tried pushing it, but knocked the wind out of my sails right after. Losing pace rapidly. And my woes were compounded by the 5k contingent at their turnaround point, as I had to labor through a veritable "Alay Lakad" crowd. At the 8k mark, I had a 5:17 split (worst of the race) with no relief in sight. I could barely breathe. Legs weren't there anymore. Call it a day. Game over.

Freaking out was more like it.

Digging Deep

Then I thought to myself. Here I go again. At Eco-dash, I gave up mentally. I just threw in the towel. Then came the realization - just 10 more minutes of agony for the glorious satisfaction of victory. I once read a quote that said "when it starts to really hurt, that's the time to push it even harder" You have no idea how much those little snippets actually helped. Digging deep, I went headhunting and went after a really speedy guy wearing a KOTR 2007 singlet. Setting aside the pain, I went for broke, knowing each second wasted brought me farther and farther away from my dream. The 9k split was starting to look encouraging. 44:10. I can do this!

I ran like there was no more tomorrow. All of those days training in the rain, in the heat, at 4:00 am in the morning - this was what it all comes down to. Right then and there, you had to leave your blood and guts on the road. There simply was no other way. You HAD to want it. It wasn't going to present itself on a silver platter. And upon hitting the line, I was numb at first. Then it registered. 49:12. Oh yes. Yes. YES. I finallly did it! I finally breached the sub-50 mark!!! Yahoo!!!

My mind drifted to all those past failures, those past trials. The inherent lack of athleticism. How the goal had seemed so lurid to begin with, and steeling yourself for the eventuality that maybe you just didn't have it in you. Just let it go man. It ain't meant to be. It probably never will be. Basking in the glow of victory, i was happy, overjoyed even, that for one day at least....


It actually was. :)