Run to Get the Prize

I ran at the Milo Marathon in Palawan last week. I had not run so much the past months at the gym treadmill, and this thus would be a battery test for me, I thought. Nonetheless, it took my boss easy prodding for me to fly to Puerto Princesa and run.

The event started early. My boss, my colleague, and I met at the lobby of Legend Palawan at five o’ clock in the morning and hailed a tricycle right after going to the plaza where the marathon would start.

When we arrived, a throng of students was swarming the plaza. It turned out that the event will give special prizes to the school that can bring the most number of participants. The schools did not fail to deliver.

I chose to run the 5-kilometer race. It was a Fun Run. I thought it was not a modest move to gallop a 10K race with no serious preparation. It would be a wise decision to stay at a mid-range kilometer length of a race to keep my dignity–just making sure that I finish my race.

The pistol banged. Thus a throng of students drowned the streets, many of those were making a dash not to be trapped in the human tsunami engulfing fast the provincial highway.

Making sure I would not be delayed by a stampedeing crowd, I stayed at the extreme left of the highway. Thus I easily left the crowd in the Fun Run. Others who ran were high school students running abreast, fearing to lose each other in the crowd [these people went there for the fun not for the run]. Others are Philippine marine corps. Others are enthusiasts with gellied bellys bouncing down the highway [they remain enthusiasts still].

My run was a fast steady jog. I kept my cadence. I kept my pace. I did not want to flash my way in the first 250 meters only to falter right after. I made sure that I was in a good running pace, stearing away from students that, by that time, were dragging each other down.

I gradually felt the heat inside. This heat transcended into my warm exhales. My breathing became heavy. speckles of sweat on my forehead spilled profusely on my brows.This heat was momentarily quenched upon handing over of water when I passed by a water booth. Still I run.

At many points of the race, my run became a jog, and my jog became a walk. The pangs of fatigue was excruciating in the gut. I was already tired. I was bathing in sweat. I really slowed down.

Yet as I near the finish line, I ran again. There was an immediate surge of energy I got from somewhere within. I forgot the pain. I did not mind the sweat. And as I end that marathon, I felt a self-assurance: I did not only ran but I ran hard.