I couldn’t bear having my running year end on a sour note, so after taking a weekend off running, I was back on the pavement for the Philstar.com Christmas Celebrity Run. (It kind of helped that one of my friends registered for me.)

Distance 10K: check. A hilly winding course: check. Plus, the route went through McKinley Hill, which kicked my butt the first time I ran it during the Urbanite Run. I began calling it my redemption race.

Emotionally, I was nothing short of grateful to God for the race day ahead. I already knew that whatever I had lost, God would give even more. Whatever happened, I was determined to kick those thieves’ asses the only way I knew how: to return to running and prove what they did to me had not broken my spirit.

Some vestige of paranoia stayed with me, of course. I packed only a change of clothes and a water bottle in my gym bag. Money and my license wrapped in plastic went into the back pocket of my Race for Life singlet, and I slipped my cellphone into my running tights’ back pocket. The car key was in the music pocket strapped to my arm. All this just to ensure my peace of mind.

Since it was a media-sponsored run, I knew there was a slim chance race results would be published. Instead, I strapped on my good old Casio digital watch and started the stopwatch at the gun start (which was late). I started in the middle of the pack with my friend from the Ateneo run, adopting his strategy of slowly overtaking runners in front of us as they slowed down from their sprinting start. A more steady pace would keep my legs fresh for the final kick.

Water supply was plentiful, and I watched the first three kilometers whiz by. Then we turned into McKinley Hill, and I even overtook a woman and man from the David’s Salon triathlon team. On this winding route with three U-turns, I put into practice something I’d only read about: running the tangents. Instead of plodding along with my eyes on the ground, I scanned what was ahead so I could run as straight a line as possible, eliminating extra mileage and shaving off seconds from my time.

based on Jaeb’s GPS map

As we got back onto 5th Avenue on the 7th kilometer, I checked my stopwatch. Only twenty-five minutes had elapsed?! I began mentally ticking off the kilometer markers I’d passed, and I was confident I’d collected all the checkpoint bracelets being handed out.

And then I realized: McKinley Hill wasn’t as hellish as I’d expected. No way?

The David’s Salon tri-team overtook me at Kilometer 9, but I kept hard on their heels. Breathing steady: check. Pain-free: check. I kept right behind the tri-team as we approached the last stretch of road before the finish. Cameras snapped. I saw the timer at the finish line read 48+ minutes. As the man from the tri-team sprinted away for his own sub-49 finish, I accelerated to keep an older man from finishing between me and the woman triathlete. I crossed the line and tore off my tag to give it to the race marshal. Then I clicked off my stopwatch. 48:33.

Given that it took me 31 seconds from the gun start to cross the start, and a few more seconds after I crossed the finish line to turn off my stopwatch, my conservative estimate of the time it took me to run the course was 48 minutes, only one minute behind Piolo P’s heartbreak 47.

Wait wait wait. Forty-eight minutes? *faints* I’d been trying to get below 51 minutes since I ran the Globe run, and the flat course during the PIM only helped me bring it down to 51:15. And then all of a sudden to breach the 50-minute mark? I’d have done cartwheels if people didn’t all have their cameras out to take photos with the celebrities at the finish line. Eep!

On GPS trackers, the distance was only 9.8 kilometers. However, since GPS doesn’t measure topographical changes, that’s within its margin of error. Even if the distance were that short, I was running 4:54 minutes per kilometer and would still have finished a 10-kilometer distance in 49 minutes.

I returned to my car, half-expecting my bag to have disappeared again. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw my doors were still securely locked and my bag was still stashed in the back, in the same position I’d left it.

McKinley no longer Hell: check! New PR: check! No thievery: Check! Elation flooded me, and the only thing I could do was lift up a prayer of thanks for a beautiful end to this year’s running. My redemption race was a runaway success. Ü

Tags: Running, Race, Philstar Celebrity Run

Running while listening to music over earphones is supposedly a bad habit to get into. If you’re pounding the pavement while something’s jammed into your ears blocking surrounding sound, you’re ripe pickings for getting run over before you even know what hit you. Also, being too in tune with your music might mean you’re not listening to your body enough, making you prone to pushing too hard, too fast.

Still, it’s undeniable that music can give you that extra push, particularly if you’re trying to beat a personal record. I’ve run races with and without music in my ears; I know my legs have a faster turnover when I’ve got a high-tempo song on, rather than if I were just listening to the sound of my own breathing.

So, maybe the next best thing to running without music is running with a good pair of earphones that stay in your ear but allow ambient sound to come through. For Christmas this year, I got myself a pair of Nike Flow sports earphones.

Going with the Flow

Rather than being of the in-ear variety, the Flows clip onto the earlobes and nestle comfortably atop the ear canal. This means they won’t fall off and I get great sound even without turning the volume way up. In turn, I can hear sounds around me, including the hum of a car engine and tires getting uncomfortably close. The Flows are also sweat-resistant, which is a must for sweaty runners like myself.

I used the Flows at the Philstar Run last Sunday and despite a hiccup with my left earphone (it slipped off whenever I flipped my cap to dunk water on my head), I’m really very happy with it. Ü

Tags: Earphones, Nike Flow, Running

One of the reasons I loved going to Baguio a few years ago were the ukay-ukay (thrift) stores located right in the heart of the city. The first time I went to one, I was able to find a maxi skirt for myself and some cute tops for my sister. Since then, I’ve always walked away with something cute — and cheap. Unfortunately, the last time I was there, two years ago, prices had risen and the quality of selections had fallen. I was under the impression that Baguio was the only place I could go thrifting.

Then I met some people who showed me that thrifting is alive and well right here in Manila! In fact, my friends Liz and Lauren run The Ukay Manila Store showcasing their thrift store finds, which are up for sale. So if my friends can find clothes good enough to re-sell, I shouldn’t have a hard time finding some for myself, either. Ü

In the past few months, I’ve been honing my shopping radar, refining my fashion sense, and pretty much listening more to the shopaholic within, so last Friday I made a trip to a building called Lolo Oboy’s at Anonas LRT-2 Station. It’s four floors’ worth of thrift stores, which meant four floors’ worth of fun for me.

Going thrifting is like panning for gold. You will be sifting through a lot of mud, rocks, and other nasty things, but if you know what you’re looking for, you’re bound to find something that’s fashionable and wearable (after some laundering, of course).

So, what did I find? Plenty! My budget was 900 pesos. In a department store, that amount will probably get you one top (or maybe two, if you’re savvy) and one bottom. At the thrift shop, that amount got me…

polo cover-up (P10), spaghetti top (P35), twill skirt (P35)

metallic cropped jacket (P150), tube top (P35)

knit sweater (P35), lace and tulle skirt (P35)

pinstripe culottes (P45), Target spotted button-down skirt (P35)

cropped blazer (P150), denim skirt (P150)

By the time I exited the building, I was high from shopping — and inhaling dust particles. I only stopped going through the racks for more because I only had two hands to carry my purchases, and I didn’t want to go over-budget.

Next week I will be thrifting with some friends — in Cubao this time. I wonder what I’ll find? Ü

Tags: Thrift Store Finds, Ukay, Shopping

OK, so I did say the New Balance Power Run was my last race of the year. But I changed my plans and signed up for the Ateneo Big Blue 150 Run that was held last Sunday, December 6. What happened last Sunday makes me think I should have stuck to that resolution, instead of giving in to the urge to try the BBR’s route.

The Lesson Is: Stick to the Plan

It was almost too good to resist: a new route that wound through the Ateneo campus before busting out onto Katipunan. It had never been done before, so I allowed myself to be sales-talked into singing up for it.

So I went to the Blue Eagles Gym last Saturday and paid the P500 entry fee that purchased me a singlet and a race kit with my bib number and route map. Since I’d signed up late, the only singlet sizes available were Large and Extra-Large. That probably should have clued me in to something not being quite all right about going on the run.

On race day, I got to Ateneo right before a big traffic jam started and parked very near a guard outpost. I stashed my bag out of sight on the floor and made sure my car doors were locked before I left the lot. I tucked my cellphone into my compression pants’ zippered back pocket because I was running the route for the first time and might need my cellphone in case something happened. (This is what’s called foreshadowing.)

A Beautiful Run

At the starting line, I met up with a friend who was willing to pace with me. He’s a tall and fast guy (he finished Globe Run for Home 10K in 49 minutes, 25 seconds), but he said he wasn’t aiming for a PR anyway.

So there we were, two yellow birds (we were both wearing yellow shirts, since he never wears a race’s official singlet and I used my KOTR singlet) in a convocation of Blue Eagles. The 10K start gun fired, and we were off. He stayed on my tail, but his long legs carried him forward until he remained constantly 200 to 300 meters in front of me. The Ateneo campus has small inclines and declines and even though the race map shows a road as straight, there were curves along the road which made it difficult to speed up.

I already knew I wasn’t going to make a PR when I hit Katipunan; I couldn’t get my earphones to stay in my ears properly, so I couldn’t stay pumped with my power songs. I’d also spent a lot of energy passing slower runners and trying to catch up to my friend. I knew the upcoming flyover was going to sap me even further. That Katipunan flyover is a killer! The climb up felt like it lasted more than a minute; it’s definitely tougher than Kalayaan flyover from Taguig to Makati, or Buendia flyover on Roxas Boulevard. And after the flyover, a long stretch of hilly road until the U-turn — and then we had to do it all again in backwards order.

I saw my friend take the U-turn, then he ran back towards me and went round the U-turn with me. This time he stayed by my side, keeping up a stream of positive words and updating me about what was playing on his iPod. U2’s “Beautiful Day” kicked in as we went up the flyover again, and although I couldn’t hear it, I was singing it in my head.

He made a fast dash to the finish line, while I just kept up the steady thrum-thrum of my legs until I crossed the tape too. Time elapsed? 52 minutes, 17 seconds. Good enough, considering the hilly route. We spent some time congratulating ourselves, drinking water, and then walked back to our cars which were parked in the same lot.

That Sinking Feeling

As I approached my car, I noticed that all the doors were unlocked. “Did I lock this door?” I thought to myself, but knew that I had. I rationalized that sometimes the power locks don’t work, but hoped that nothing had been taken. It had never happened before, anyway.

I opened the door, and it felt like the ground had dropped out from under me. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” I started screaming. My bag was gone! My bag, with my change of clothes, my Havaianas slippers, my house keys, MY OTHER CELLPHONE, MY WALLET, MY CAMERA! Each realization of what items were stolen hit me like wave after wave dragging me down, down, down…

And then I pulled myself together as my friend ran over to me, concerned because he thought I’d received some bad news over the phone. Thank God I’d taken one of my phones with me on the run; I used it to call my parents to tell them what happened. Then we hailed a nearby police detachment and one of the campus security guards, and I started telling them in what condition I’d left my car and bag, and how long it took me to get back to my car after I’d left it.

While the Ateneo guard took photos of my car and its doors and locks, another couple in the same parking lot discovered their trunk had been broken into, and the woman’s purse taken. There were no visible signs of a break-in: no windows broken or door jambs jacked. Our vehicles were both Mitsubishi, both manufactured in the early 1990’s, and both with no alarm systems. For an experienced thief, easy pickings. Sigh.

My friend stayed with me until my parents picked me up to drive me home. I couldn’t drive because my stolen wallet had my driver’s license in there (along with some cash and ATM cards). This was the first time I’d ever felt so helpless.

What we’ve concluded is the perpetrator was already loitering in the parking lot when people started arriving. He’d taken notice of me not setting any alarm on my car, and the woman putting her purse in her trunk. Then, when everyone else had left the lot, he’d picked our locks and walked away with the bags as if they belonged to him. Simple to do because other people were also walking around with big gym bags heading to the race’s staging area.

Ateneo security later found my bag in a restroom. As predicted, my cellphone, wallet, and camera were no longer there — but the thief had also made off with my Ateneo singlet (I’d packed it just in case) and my Havaianas flipflops!

Rebuilding

Through it all I just found myself laughing about how surreal the situation was. I was thankul that the car itself hadn’t been stolen. I didn’t really need the second cellphone anyway; it was a spare. I’ve already secured a replacement for my driver’s license and my ATM cards (I had the old cards blocked on Sunday). The flipflops were one of four pairs of Havaianas I have in the house, so no big loss. The race organizers have a new singlet set aside for me. But I really do miss my camera.

Last Sunday after the incident, my friends and family rallied around me. One of them reminded me of a verse about theft and payback.

Proverbs 6:30-31 “People do not despise a thief if he steals to satisfy himself when he is starving. Yet when he is found, he must restore sevenfold; He may have to give up all the substance of his house.”

I may not ever find out who the thief was, but I do know that God restores and provides. I can always buy a new camera. Ü

I’m just wiser and more guarded about my things, particularly on race days when there are a lot of things going on and security might not be very reliable.

Tags: Running, Race, Big Blue Run, Theft