tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40396326730990137592024-02-06T20:48:48.550-08:00i married a runnera non-runner spending life with a man who can't stand still.dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-34973718626896513132012-10-09T10:46:00.000-07:002012-10-09T11:03:21.835-07:00Hero, you have an awesome daddy.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Albeit a crazy one. Some of my friends call your dad Captain Awesome, and it's not hard to see why. </div>
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He wakes up at 4:30 in the morning to do his 100-miler training. Short runs, he says. They're around 8 kilometers long. He comes back home in time to see you wake up. You somehow know that mornings are meant for playing with daddy. So you smile and let him pick you up. He changes you from your frogsuit pajamas and into your onesie. Changes your diaper too. You don't mind at all that mommy is still asleep.</div>
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Your daddy then dives into the morning rush traffic to clock in at 8:30am. By the afternoon, I'm sure he just couldn't wait to come home. And it's back onto the traffic to see you just after you've had your dinner. Before we had you, we'd have late meals. But now we're done eating by 7:30 just so he could have a little over an hour of play before you get cranky and sleepy.</div>
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He plays with you, makes silly voices to make your toys "talk" to you. He crawls on the floor with you. Concocts adventures with pillows and blankets for you. It amazes me how he can still manage to. While I stand already weary and I work at home.</div>
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On weekends he'll do his longer training runs. Up to 38 kilometers, I think (and I think on some days he has to do more). It's insane, isn't it? It's almost doing a self-imposed marathon. He makes it home late morning and you're already awake, playing or just come from your bath. And he'll still play with you before he goes to take a rest. You don't even care if he's sweaty and kick your little legs in the air, begging to be carried. Sometimes you even cry when he doesn't.</div>
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Then there are days when he doesn't get to rest at all (or barely). Because then he'll be helping mommy with her workshops. He'll carry the things, arrange the seats, take the photos and pack it all up again. Sometimes during the lessons he'll even remind mommy to teach or do things she'd otherwise forget. And after all that, he drives hurriedly home so we could play with you and cuddle with you (even if you don't really like cuddling).</div>
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He's super. And you're lucky. And I've got a feeling you'll be running around and doing amazing things, just like your daddy.</div>
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dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-68793430354246827162012-09-16T11:13:00.001-07:002012-09-16T11:13:57.593-07:00when your husband is out running and you're not there.<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, technically you are - somewhere there. But not quite. Unless of course you're the kind of wife who runs with her husband. </div>
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I couldn't sleep tonight and I realized that I haven't written on this blog in ages. This would be a retrospect on the TNF100 that happened in Baguio City eons ago (aka last April). At the same time, some pondering by an insomniac brain brought about by a friend who let her husband go on his race with that fresh sense of worry.</div>
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We were talking about that a couple of days ago. And I found myself becoming that "oh don't worry it's going to be fine" kind of character. The truth is though, you can't escape the worry. Even if it's just a training run early morning. He leaves. You hear rain. You go back to sleep but really, you're hoping that he's on his way back and doesn't catch a cold. </div>
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Then you'd have major ultras that really boggle your mind with the amount of insanity. Like the Bataan Death March (though at least for this, I was part of the <a href="http://imarriedarunner.blogspot.com/search/label/BDM102" target="_blank">support crew</a> following him around). And then the TNF100. The great thing about the it was that we got to bring Hero up to Baguio with us. I mean, look at that little ball of cuteness.</div>
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The hard thing about the TNF100 was... err, the TNF100. From the previous time we were up there, I knew it was hard. It was crazy. And crazy as crazy could, my crazy husband is doing the 100k. TRAIL. UP IN THE MOUNTAINS. The un-best part of it is, you're not there. With him. It's not like a city race. Or an ultra out of town. This was TNF. And it's one hundred effing kilometers. At ear-popping heights above sea level. Like, HELLO.</div>
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Okay, so you're kind of used to this whole race thing anyway. You're sharing in the buzz and the excitement. And it's truly a happy moment. Until the gun start and they're off and you're not with him anymore. And you're left with just faith and trust that he listened to you when you repeatedly said things like "don't push yourself too hard" and "listen to your body" and "be safe". Translation in your head: PLEASE COME BACK IN ONE PIECE, GODDAMMIT.</div>
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Having been with him in a number of races, knowing his pace, I would calculate how much distance he's probably covered. He has a phone, but I didn't want to bug him too often. He'd call or text to update and I'd think that hey, he's doing well. And then there's this super icky feeling. I'm not sure if you just become wired that way. When something in your gut tells you that something bad (or at least not right) is going to happen.</div>
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And then he calls and says, "I don't think I can finish this". And you're half in denial and half relieved. Because for one thing, of course you'd want him to finish! All that work! While the other part of you wants to just scoop him up from wherever he is and give him a big hug - thank God it's over.</div>
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That night, Chips made a decision to quit the race at KM70. He took shelter at an aid station, squeezed into a small tent with a couple of marshalls, and waited for daybreak before heading down the mountains. His phone battery went dead and during that time I think parts of my brain short-circuited because of the anxiety. Kind locals at a sari-sari store lent him a battery to use while we were working out his location. We picked him up along Kennon Road and hugging him all stinky, reeking of sweat and soil felt like the best thing ever. </div>
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And I actually found myself saying, "you'll finish it next year". WHAT. YES. I want him to do it again next year. I will send him off again. Into a monster of a thing totally unknown to me. </div>
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And we're going to finish it, yes we will.</div>
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(But before that, there's the BDM160 and the BDM102 - yes, crazy as crazy could, my crazy husband would like to do both)</div>
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dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-75817264190198525972012-03-04T21:42:00.001-08:002012-03-04T21:43:08.025-08:00Daddy's a bit excited.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On the way back from a business trip up north, he stopped by an Adidas outlet store. He bought shoes for himself (new racers) and he couldn't resist buying shoes for Hero. He told me this on the phone. I thought it was a wee bit silly. But he couldn't stop gushing about how cute they were.</div>
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When I saw the little pair, I pretty much would've bought them too. Even if it would take maybe a year before Hero could actually use them. THEY ARE JUST SO DARN ADOWABLE.</div>
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And they're not the least bit intimidated by all of Daddy's big (and stinky) shoes. Coz you know, cute always wins.</div>
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<br />dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-39971268798447831682012-02-07T02:33:00.000-08:002012-09-16T11:15:06.056-07:00The Condura Skyway Marathon 2012 - Official Results<div style="text-align: justify;">
I really thought that this would be the first confirmed race for the year. In the <a href="http://imarriedarunner.blogspot.com/2012/01/oh-hello-2012.html" target="_blank">last post</a>, it's really the one that didn't have any disclaimer to it. Boy was I wrong.</div>
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This is actually the hubby's <b>SECOND</b> race. See, I had <b>thought </b>that he was just doing support for the BDM 50K test run for his running buddy who'll be doing it for the first time. Nuh-uh. He raced it. And despite coming from the running enemy that is the holiday season, he actually did pretty well. He placed 22nd, with an official time of 7:10:58. Official results can be seen <a href="http://baldrunner.com/2012/01/15/result-2012-bdm-50k-test-run/" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</div>
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Okay, back to the post at hand. The Condura Skyway Marathon which is hereby the second race for the year. Unlike the past runs, this one was held at night. Why they did that, I don't know. Chips wasn't too fond of it - he just wanted to run it because he wanted to get back into shape.</div>
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For one thing, there's no majestic sunrise. Therefore, no view, no colors, no nothing. Just bouncing reflectors and camera flashes. It basically stripped him out of the beauty he so loved to see when running. I would be able to relate - at least on an aesthetic viewpoint, how would you get that awesome finish photo?</div>
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Anyway, he intented to just "run it" and not "race it". But ended up racing it anyway. It's not a PR, but considering that he came from a 4-day seminar and had little sleep (enter playing with Hero), he's really proud of what he accomplished.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Official Results can be viewed <a href="http://www.takbo.ph/2012/02/condura-skyway-marathon-results/" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</td></tr>
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Unfortunately, he didn't get to plan his recovery as well (enter again playing with Hero) and he totally forgot to ice his muscles when he got home. But really, when you have a little one waiting for you, how could you remember?</div>
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And can I just say, the medal is HUGE. It's as big (or even bigger) than Hero's head.</div>
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That's Hero obviously not knowing what the hell is happening. LOL.</div>
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dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-45374722364528518602012-01-05T00:54:00.000-08:002012-01-05T00:56:23.295-08:00Oh hello, 2012!<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's been a long while since I posted here! Why? Well, Hero's here! The past months have been a whirlwind of cuteness, eyebags and holiday fat. Chips is actually on this quest to get back into shape. But Hero is just so good at keeping him from going out to run (look at that face, who wouldn't want to stay in?).<br />
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We're pretty excited for this year. Especially since Hero can be with me at the finish line once she's big enough. And that would just fall around this year's TNF100 - summer at Baguio with Hero, how fun is that?! I'm also really grateful that <a href="http://www.baldrunner.com/">BR</a> has published his planned races for 2012 - at least I'd have a reference of when Chips is going to be gone.</div>
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So far, here are the runs he's chosen to join:</div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>January 14, 2012</b>—BDM 50K “Test Run” Mariveles to Abucay, Bataan (as support crew)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>January 21, 2012</b>—MOUNTAIN & TRAIL RUNNING 101 - TBC</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>February 5, 2012</b></span><span style="background-color: white;">—Condura Skyway Marathon, "Run for the Mangroves"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>February 25, 2012</b>—MOUNTAIN & TRAIL RUNNING 101 - TBC</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>March 3-4, 2012</b>—4th BDM 102K Ultra Marathon Race (as support crew)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>April 21-22, 2012</b></span><span style="background-color: white;">—TNF100 Baguio, 100K</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>June 2, 2012</b>—Taklang Damulag 50-Mile Mountain/Trail Run & 50K Run</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>August 25, 2012</b>—2nd ILOCOS NORTE (Burgos To Pagudpud) 60K Ultra Marathon Run</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That basically takes care of half of the year. Though really, I never know when another race decides to show up. Like with a free race kit or something. Hero and I will just be ready with our finish line outfits (swimsuits too, for the Pagudpud run!).</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Happy New Year, everyone!</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-76532575999341382082011-11-10T20:22:00.001-08:002011-11-10T20:51:50.530-08:0010 signs that the hubby left his Facebook account active on my laptop.<div style="text-align: justify;">
My default tabs when I open my browser are my <a href="https://twitter.com/#!/thefozzybook">Twitter</a>, <a href="http://pinterest.com/thefozzybook/">Pinterest</a> and Facebook pages. Most of the time I'm totally dazed and just instinctively scroll to read messages and posts. And then I wonder. Wait, these don't sound like things my contacts would post...</div>
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Since my MBP spends most of the day on and online, the hubby would usually just borrow it to check his Facebook account. He doesn't do this often. And at times he forgets to sign it out. Here are some of the signs that the wall I've opened isn't actually mine, and it takes a while for them to sink in because I rarely pay attention to people's profile thumbnails.</div>
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<li>My contacts start posting updates as early as 7:00am (if I backtrack the time correctly).</li>
<li>I've been tagged in a poster promoting a race. It usually has big visuals of trees, a running silhouette, and perhaps a grunge spatter of what's made to appear as mud to signify a trail route.</li>
<li>I've been tagged in an album that has 2-3 digits beside the letter "K" as part of its title.</li>
<li>My contacts are posting photos of race numbers beside finisher medals.</li>
<li>90% of the thumbnails to the left of my browsing window are of people in singlets and visors/caps. Either in running form or posed underneath a finish line. </li>
<li>There are no posts from online sellers announcing new arrivals of bags or shoes.</li>
<li>No one says "<i>kalorkey</i>", "<i>jirits"</i>, or "IKR" on the wall.</li>
<li>There are maps showing a GPS tracking system of some sort.</li>
<li>Status updates comprise of the words "just finished", "LSD", "xx-K", and time of day.</li>
<li>I see my profile thumbnail on the wall.</li>
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We make such a good team :D</div>
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<br /></div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-51081514748062763012011-11-09T23:53:00.000-08:002011-11-09T23:54:28.881-08:00frontRunner's Run to the Clouds (also known as the fabled last race)<div style="text-align: justify;">
When the hubby signed up for this, he said it was going to be his last for the year. I guess it was silently qualified as the last <b><i>ultramarathon</i></b> for the year. Because yes, his running mistress managed to squiggle in yet ANOTHER free race (will post about this one separately).</div>
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The Run to the Clouds Ultramarathon was held last October 30, up in the Benguet Province. They hole up in Baguio City the day before, where the shuttle was going to pick them up to take them up to the starting line. So while we were dying from the humidity here in Manila, they were enjoying the cool and pine-scented fresh mountain air. </div>
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The race starts at Ambuklao Dam. And finishes on top of this mountain where you see those big radars (in Sto. Tomas) if you're in Baguio City. So the place you'd like to reach after x-hours is actually <b>literally</b>, mountains away. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-miWi2-AauvzMUa_Jz_UzWO_YXmKTwPupN-XvI9QEhRaF0ogDdXKM6yFMRQLRXe-rVlnLiQEahzb8giI-A7Op67hPjgRtM0K4D3XMeUdY_n46fYaOu5DSghQJxL15bh1zjcgECWrVlKP9/s1600/Runners+Spotted.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-miWi2-AauvzMUa_Jz_UzWO_YXmKTwPupN-XvI9QEhRaF0ogDdXKM6yFMRQLRXe-rVlnLiQEahzb8giI-A7Op67hPjgRtM0K4D3XMeUdY_n46fYaOu5DSghQJxL15bh1zjcgECWrVlKP9/s400/Runners+Spotted.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">photo by Runners Spotted</span></i></div>
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Anyway, he totally loved this race. A big thanks to frontRunner magazine for organizing it. He raved about the people he met, about the views they saw, about the challenge of the uphills and downhills. Yes, he raved like a madwoman who successfully conquered a super sale (oh wait, that would be me).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZjgHKZrLpzbZ0Y0vOaCWfDSqHvHuEoXejhyRPquXwcbf1gKQWZlCgxT6q2EmG98DhAK4HbzLCWWvioeWYtBHcRqv5iChg258voRvJXbDbeXxXiXNencet6RarGMoJA7bTAL5YaIPH73Q/s1600/Dabobong+Delos+Angeles.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZjgHKZrLpzbZ0Y0vOaCWfDSqHvHuEoXejhyRPquXwcbf1gKQWZlCgxT6q2EmG98DhAK4HbzLCWWvioeWYtBHcRqv5iChg258voRvJXbDbeXxXiXNencet6RarGMoJA7bTAL5YaIPH73Q/s400/Dabobong+Delos+Angeles.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">photo by Dabobong Delos Angeles</span></i></div>
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He had discovered the benefits of a ponkan while jogging uphill and of the soups he bought at roadside<span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </span><i>karinderyas</i> to warm his insides. He also told me while smiling ear to ear about some Baguio locals he chatted up as they biked uphill (visualize: crazy runner beside pedaling biker going uphill). I listened as he laughed about taking a cold shower in some outhouse after he crossed the finish line.</div>
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Cold shower. It was 10 degrees. His breath turned to mist every time he exhaled. Yes, he took a cold shower. I would've totally screamed my head off.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxM8ZIF1xOfHTVLLt-i9SX7PG17RJOhMSnShyphenhyphenXrdVtgjRi-wSq_KEIcOTLDj7vFJG5ZabOw3EN7GtX9jLhxuk873CLRnSPaFGUMWtaL33biDy0Mzah_gV3e0ZDeLe1V3yyEVLs8Im0LHjM/s1600/Stephen+Lopez+Felices.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxM8ZIF1xOfHTVLLt-i9SX7PG17RJOhMSnShyphenhyphenXrdVtgjRi-wSq_KEIcOTLDj7vFJG5ZabOw3EN7GtX9jLhxuk873CLRnSPaFGUMWtaL33biDy0Mzah_gV3e0ZDeLe1V3yyEVLs8Im0LHjM/s400/Stephen+Lopez+Felices.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">photo by Stephen Lopez Felices</span></i></div>
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The biggie at the end of it: Chips so enjoys runs in Baguio that he says we'll have to take Hero there a lot. YAY. I love Baguio. I'll teach her how to ride a horse. We can be on the horse, ride up the mountain trails and be followed (or alongside) her crazy daddy. Who'll most probably be running along wearing his favorite trail shoes.</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-47450596212898456492011-10-25T21:26:00.000-07:002011-10-25T21:27:46.891-07:002011 Adidas KOTR Philippines<div style="text-align: justify;">
The running mistress, she found her way (and got it) - AGAIN. See, I already knew that the hubby was going to the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=120845698015245">frontRunner cloud race thing</a>. I had braced myself to spend half of the super long weekend without him.</div>
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Then miraculously, the hubby got a free race kit for <a href="http://www.adidaskingoftheroad.com/">Adidas King of the Road</a>. Oh, you running mistress your ways are cunning, yes they are! At least it wasn't a full marathon (consuelo). And he was gone for less than 4 hours. Okay, like I was awake anyway. But still.</div>
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Last race schmace. </div>
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When the hubby returned home, I was ready to put on a pout. But then he had my favorite meal from <a href="http://www.tapaking.com.ph/">Tapa King</a> for breakfast. Oh he knows me so well. I can't help but love him and his blistered feet.</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;"><i>*Race Results from the Organizers still not available, but you could check for updates <a href="http://adidaskingoftheroad.com/ph/index.php?page=en_raceresults">HERE</a>.</i></span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Photos from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/albums/?id=145227938840302">A Runner's Circle</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/albums/?id=148414221901539">Team USB</a>.</span></i></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-32925681169410388232011-10-12T04:29:00.000-07:002011-10-19T04:31:22.820-07:00you can't stop your husband from running away.<div style="text-align: justify;">
Running is a mean mistress to contend with. She will not let go easily. Even if you're less than 3 months due to bringing a child into the world. Your husband will go with her. Early in the morning. Or maybe for an entire day. Sometimes even overseas.</div>
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Yep, that's what my husband did. As I was happily enjoying the balance of my second trimester and up until now that we're nearing the finish line.</div>
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There was the <a href="http://baldrunner.com/2011/08/30/2nd-mt-pinatubo-50k-trail-challenge/"><b>2nd PAU Mt. Pinatubo Ultramarathon</b></a> (50k). Yep, up and down a mountain it was. And it was trail. Thru rivers and lahar. See, normal people would rent a 4x4 to save hours of sludging. But these weren't normal people. </div>
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<i>Photos by Keshia Fule</i>.</div>
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Then there was the <a href="http://www.klratrace.com/"><b>Bursa Malaysia Rat Race</b></a> (4.5k). Uh-huh. Muh-lay-sia. The hubby was gone for around 4 days to fulfill his duties as a Maybanker. Their CEO and some foreign colleagues apparently refer to him as "the crazy one" and they probably said, "Hey, let's get that crazy one from the Philippines to join the Rat Race team." The crazy one said OK. </div>
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The race was a pressure test. So much expectations. So little km's to prove it - 4.5k as compared to the long distances he so loves. I stayed at my parent's home for the time being. Sick with the flu and floating in a queen-sized bed. He did get me a nice gray hoodie from Uniqlo. Yay me. </div>
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<i>Photos by Michelle Looi and Chuah Sakura</i>.</div>
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And then there's the <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;">Manila International Marathon</span></b> (which was supposed to be last July or something). He didn't race it. Just wanted to do his ultrarunning pace and finish. From this race he's gone over his goal of reaching his 1,000th km in running races. Which was apparently a goal for this year. I actually miss being at the finish line. I'm such a fan girl (read: future stage mother).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrEWUWQu9d2JjT3iMgcZGzw48jR5zvuhNKApY-L0TD28Rm2TPapyPQFIZcfbD6yOcGQFlO1W4QJDnORWy5EB0ZH2s2jsxCMFHtQebBiqtUJnRMMPxHaSo66Q7MPkzAk_5T_QNeJqrqg4n7/s1600/alfred+delos+reyes.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrEWUWQu9d2JjT3iMgcZGzw48jR5zvuhNKApY-L0TD28Rm2TPapyPQFIZcfbD6yOcGQFlO1W4QJDnORWy5EB0ZH2s2jsxCMFHtQebBiqtUJnRMMPxHaSo66Q7MPkzAk_5T_QNeJqrqg4n7/s400/alfred+delos+reyes.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<i>Photo by Alfred delos Reyes </i></div>
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So YAY. We thought it was over. That's what you think! The mistress, she laughs. Because here comes the <b><a href="https://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=120845698015245">frontRunner Magazine's Rock and Road Series 1: Run to the Clouds 50k</a></b>. </div>
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With a title like that, I doubt that the hubby had strength to resist. Benguet. Mountains. Ultramarathon. Road and dirt road. Oh the wonderful words to invite the crazy people! It's going to be on October 30. He says it's going to be the last race for the year.</div>
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Let's see, Hero, let's see. I'm sure you'd like to be taken up the mountains too.</div>
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<br /></div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-54400602081763446272011-08-30T22:36:00.000-07:002011-08-30T22:36:51.102-07:00why we're calling our baby Hero.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When we didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl, I was calling our little baby "Bean." Chips didn't want anything to do with that at all (one, it sounds puny and two, he or she may end up like Mr. Bean). And since we still didn't know, we really couldn't pick out names yet. So we thought, okay, let's at least have a nickname ready. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If it could have something to do with the baby's real name later on, that would be great. But if not, well, case-in-point there's "Chips" which if you knew his real name would beg the question "now where did that come from?" Did we want the same for our kid? Well, curiosity is always a great conversation starter. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Okay so here's what we knew: the baby is due December. If you backtrack, that would make him or her a March baby. A Bataan Death March baby to be exact! </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbLflrOjX3CeJl-DLXg40wczf78OoaICjlZ8IxcK8pchqYNQqSbzLfdkSHWrYo15GycEDjapDJzRHA6AkCQ3IjRP8nMkGhy2gGIXOaYHya3QpWQPoVzCiFvke39ujstvc3e6-Do0S8SXg/s1600/shirt+blog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbLflrOjX3CeJl-DLXg40wczf78OoaICjlZ8IxcK8pchqYNQqSbzLfdkSHWrYo15GycEDjapDJzRHA6AkCQ3IjRP8nMkGhy2gGIXOaYHya3QpWQPoVzCiFvke39ujstvc3e6-Do0S8SXg/s400/shirt+blog.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">One night during dinner, Chips was wearing his BDM finisher's shirt. And I just said, why don't we call him (or her) Hero? It would work either way. And I loved how it just brings us back to how incredible that race was for Team Chips. <b>Hero</b>. That's what we're nick-naming our little one.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So now we know that we're having a girl. And we talk to her and call her Hero. We haven't completely decided on what her real (full) name would be yet, but for sure, our Hero's going to be a feisty little ball of cuteness. Who knows, maybe she'll even grow up to be a runner like her daddy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-5650542867242386742011-08-16T21:40:00.000-07:002011-08-16T21:40:40.820-07:00the battle of the baby joggers<div style="text-align: justify;">It's fun looking at strollers, especially now that we're just a couple of months from our due date. We're not really bent on getting a jogger. But they just look extremely hardcore and cool. Chips would presumably have loads of fun with it. I just like it because I guess it stems from my love of big cars, err, SUV's.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We've decided on getting a lightweight stroller, especially since I'll be using it most of the time. And we could still take the baby jogging - maybe not at Chips' pace. Most probably mine, which is like... walking. Anyway, just for amusement's sake, I'll post some photos and info on baby joggers I found totally cool.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;">Caution: No reviews. Purely aesthetic. Maybe some snide remarks.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><b>The <a href="http://www.gear.jeep.com/product.asp?dept_id=51&pf_id=54889">JEEP OVERLAND</a> Limited Jogging Stroller. </b>They named it after a monster of an SUV. That just about sold it for me. And it has an odometer and a dock for iPods. The other thing, JEEP is branded so beautifully up front. Grrrar.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.discountbabystrollersonsale.com/images_products/Jeep_Overland_Limited_Jogging_Stroller_Fierce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.discountbabystrollersonsale.com/images_products/Jeep_Overland_Limited_Jogging_Stroller_Fierce.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>The <a href="http://www.onlinebabysuperstore.com/joovy-zoom-360-jogging-stroller-black.html">JOOVY Zoom 360</a> Jogger</b>. It looks fierce. It's actually for "city living". I guess you would need all that 3" travel suspension with all the potholes in the metro. The product manual also says it's made out of aircraft grade aluminum. So when your baby travels, your jogger and the airplane would be really good friends.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.onlinebabysuperstore.com/wp-content/uploads/aes/Online-Baby-Superstore_162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.onlinebabysuperstore.com/wp-content/uploads/aes/Online-Baby-Superstore_162.jpg" width="304" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>The <a href="http://www.bobgear.com/ironman">BOB Ironman</a> Single Jogger.</b> It's called IRONMAN. How awesome is that. Your baby could look at other babies and say, "Hey I'm on an ironman. Oh what, your stroller has little bears." And if daddy or mommy has actually done the Ironman, that's just doubly awesome. It's like fate.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.onlinebabysuperstore.com/wp-content/uploads/aes/Online-Baby-Superstore_3613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.onlinebabysuperstore.com/wp-content/uploads/aes/Online-Baby-Superstore_3613.jpg" width="296" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>The <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Schwinn-Joyrider-Jogging-Stroller-Gray/dp/B001GAPUB2/ref=sr_1_39?s=baby-products&ie=UTF8&qid=1313554811&sr=1-39">SCHWINN JOYRIDER</a> Jogging Stroller.</b> The sheer size of the wheels bite you first. They're 20 inches in diameter. How crazy is that. It's made up of aluminum and folds into something I couldn't even explain. It looks like a stroller sandwich.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://thebabyjoggingstrollerstore.com/wp-content/uploads/aes/The-Baby-Jogging-Stroller-Store_684.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://thebabyjoggingstrollerstore.com/wp-content/uploads/aes/The-Baby-Jogging-Stroller-Store_684.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>The <a href="http://www.babyjogger.com/perf_jogger_lp.aspx">BABY JOGGER</a> 25th Anniversary Performance Jogger.</b> If other babies saw your baby in this stroller, they'd be thinking your baby was some loony speedfreak. It's just a picture and it already looks fast. It's a solid one-piece frame built for maximum durability and it has shock absorbers too. It also has reflective stitching in case you know, you'd like to get your baby used to your 4am weekend runs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.runningfreeonline.com/Portals/0/images/Hollywood/News-Articles/2010/Jun/WLW-BabyJogger_9B05-babyjogger_4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://www.runningfreeonline.com/Portals/0/images/Hollywood/News-Articles/2010/Jun/WLW-BabyJogger_9B05-babyjogger_4.png" width="310" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_1065316538"></span><span id="goog_1065316539"></span></div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-88328778861632617562011-08-01T21:46:00.000-07:002011-08-01T21:46:28.924-07:0035th Milo Marathon - Garmin Connect<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="548" src="http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/103263186" width="465"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I think that this <a href="http://www.garmin.com/garmin/cms/site/us">Garmin</a> thing is so cool. Honestly, when the hubby showed me a photo of the watch I said to him, "It looks like a calculator." Well, it still does. But at least now I think it's a cool calculator.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ever since he got it, they've been inseparable on runs. Even the shortest distance. Still need to wear it. Except for unfortunate instances (very few) when he forgets it or forgets to charge it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">He even wanted to try out its heart rate monitor belt-thing on my tummy to see if it could pick up our baby's heartbeat. If we get crazy enough maybe we just will.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-18420770933595224602011-07-31T22:38:00.000-07:002011-07-31T22:46:39.333-07:0035th Milo Marathon Race and the Results<div style="text-align: justify;">First off, I'd like to give a shout-out to <a href="http://milo.com.ph/">Milo</a> and <a href="http://www.runrio.com/">RunRio</a>: thank you for setting up a safe and very well-organized race. The race kit and booklet is pretty impressive (reminded me of the HK one we did on February, actually). Being preggy and needing more rest than ever, this is actually the first time I've not gone with my husband as support (or finish line cheerer) on a marathon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And while the heat-stricken memory of last year's Milo Marathon still scared me enough to want to be with him, I had to stay home. The cool thing about this year was a live SMS update on certain distance points. My cel buzzed me awake several times in the wee hours of the morning, and it somehow allayed my worst fears of Chips being soaked and stranded somewhere. The race was progressing well, it seemed, despite the unforgiving weather. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Chips' official time clocked into my phone at 8:14 AM. I got up from bed and happily ate my breakfast, beaming with pride (aside from the fact that I was having a hearty serving of bacon). I'm visualizing myself at the finish line, jumping and running to give him a hug. I hope he felt it!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">This was <b>not</b> the time we were expecting at all, given that he barely trained for this race. The lack of training you'll have to blame on me, who always wanted him home early. Yep, I'm sorry running mistress, the wife had to get her way.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm also thanking in this post Chips' pace-buddy for that race, Werner Cruz, for keeping him company as well as his spirits up and happy. Congratulations to him as well, and to the other runners (and supporters) who gave up the warm snuggly hug of their blankets to be part of such a great event!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Official Results may be seen by clicking <a href="http://results.bazumedia.com/event/results/event/miloelim2011">HERE</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Or you can copy this link to your browser:<br />
http://results.bazumedia.com/event/results/event/miloelim2011</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;">Note:</span></b> a post from Runrio.com says that the race results are in the process of being verified until August 2 (Tuesday), so I guess you'll have to check again within the next couple of days if your time/ranking has changed... if you're that kind of OC person :)<br />
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</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-58668627757406329762011-07-25T20:07:00.000-07:002011-07-25T20:07:41.380-07:00when a runner goes to the beach...<div style="text-align: justify;">He will always (initially) take a long time to decide if he will run or not. But he will eventually calculate that with or without the tours involved, he will have enough time to get out and run. A runner will take a vacation from work and the city, but never from running. He brought trail shoes when we went on our honeymoon. He ran twice.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">For three days last week, we were in <a href="http://www.bohol.ph/">Bohol</a> with family. We've been there before, so Chips together with his brother and myself decided to not join the tour and just spend time on the beach. It was the perfect opportunity for him to spend the morning running around - around 20k, before heading back to join us for breakfast. I had bacon *squee*.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="548" src="http://connect.garmin.com:80/activity/embed/101081818" width="465"></iframe><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">I didn't get to buy a straw hat, but good thing Chips brought his visor. I love it. It's underside is black, so when sunlight bounces from the ground, it gets absorbed by the black fabric. Genius! Good job, <a href="http://www.nike.com/">Nike</a>. There aren't many white visors that have this kind of "feature". Oh and look, another feature in the photo, the 20-week baby bump!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuMgH-2KTNVyjWCptoOlP_ikskSdF1s0f9ywhp0hTCd_gjSQTgzkp0tc3xV11XwVIYiT8cJVNHf9tGjffMC6TCoEgG0MXVQunz_VjjZKMBJbzOrR02syl5cI0M_LysaCUTz68SRtwDU4YJ/s1600/P1030462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuMgH-2KTNVyjWCptoOlP_ikskSdF1s0f9ywhp0hTCd_gjSQTgzkp0tc3xV11XwVIYiT8cJVNHf9tGjffMC6TCoEgG0MXVQunz_VjjZKMBJbzOrR02syl5cI0M_LysaCUTz68SRtwDU4YJ/s400/P1030462.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLPIUu1nsB5lDW1LKeq6h8C64CwFCLQ2paAuv0Z2H6rbkKcud0GgWJuXNz5HMd0x4B6o_TSJHAeZGB1pKbVhQYDXVdjQIrdemyAajx1_lBpFNVjkZHNKtmLlijH-SUCh4Z2QNRk9fZPbe/s1600/P1030459.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLPIUu1nsB5lDW1LKeq6h8C64CwFCLQ2paAuv0Z2H6rbkKcud0GgWJuXNz5HMd0x4B6o_TSJHAeZGB1pKbVhQYDXVdjQIrdemyAajx1_lBpFNVjkZHNKtmLlijH-SUCh4Z2QNRk9fZPbe/s400/P1030459.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And to relax after a run, he's reading the latest book from his uber-running-idol, <a href="http://www.ultramarathonman.com/flash/">Dean Karnazes</a>. He giggles and chuckles and shares tidbits to me with the utmost gleam in his eyes. Watching him talk about running is like hearing a boy talking about a girl he's falling madly in love with. And it's really cute, honestly. If this is his love-affair (aside from me), I really don't mind.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">That day we also set out to eat a hearty meal. He did say he passed an italian restaurant on the main road while on his run. He said that it was "not that far". It was good that I had a full breakfast, because we were walking for a good 15 minutes and we still haven't hit this fabled resto. He apologizes, saying it seemed closer when he was running. <i>Right</i>. We decide to trudge on and I said to him, this <b>better</b> be worth a pregnant woman walking on a slightly uphill road for 20 minutes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZfYSewGx6te05VN1jL4PVifBxTYfCSGeRxqHuPUpvJ5C6GECYsfrTGnvJCfWoxdlVdFwDfESS7NVpWTmn7wYBdlQTBSzswzgD-fO6Td_Btuo_LRUPK_bN1vt-XuMGFJFAGso8DBdCqPl/s1600/P1030493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZfYSewGx6te05VN1jL4PVifBxTYfCSGeRxqHuPUpvJ5C6GECYsfrTGnvJCfWoxdlVdFwDfESS7NVpWTmn7wYBdlQTBSzswzgD-fO6Td_Btuo_LRUPK_bN1vt-XuMGFJFAGso8DBdCqPl/s400/P1030493.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We get there, it's called <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/woodfiredovens/home">Guisseppe's</a>. And it was THE BEST Italian meal I've EVER had in my life. And I'm not just saying it because I was a preggers <i>and</i> hungry. The owner is really Italian. They fly in their ingredients straight from Italy. They use wood-fire ovens. Their pasta is fresh and home-made. Need I say more.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtrivqLhxFdE678lXaEvDLxOwa4Z0T1g_vhTmpQ7V3CAUMFYBuq_76gtG8KmGv62nKmSbCNp3W3XPV05UKOiHZYaCVfY5sMTzFEtOemjs9jNkJVTOM2b663jVb4nD6yFMRb_0c0zBJDAE1/s1600/P1030492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtrivqLhxFdE678lXaEvDLxOwa4Z0T1g_vhTmpQ7V3CAUMFYBuq_76gtG8KmGv62nKmSbCNp3W3XPV05UKOiHZYaCVfY5sMTzFEtOemjs9jNkJVTOM2b663jVb4nD6yFMRb_0c0zBJDAE1/s400/P1030492.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaN4lL1Le9W6CzydFLXCaEK_ErqHy1nlt5a_5LTmYycRMRHGNjvJ3WJpxqm06V1IIqsAdOB8wodE4kVlLofyI-am5_Qsyzm8pylILggbcG4BN_T4lEYGLqMi84XSgctPthIGejRqSQEKzc/s1600/P1030495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaN4lL1Le9W6CzydFLXCaEK_ErqHy1nlt5a_5LTmYycRMRHGNjvJ3WJpxqm06V1IIqsAdOB8wodE4kVlLofyI-am5_Qsyzm8pylILggbcG4BN_T4lEYGLqMi84XSgctPthIGejRqSQEKzc/s400/P1030495.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">They have a branch in Cebu City. So if we're having a family vacation there, I'll <b>definitely</b> eat there. Aside from the brilliant beach waters of Bohol, the meal we had here was a very close contender for THE highlight of the trip. I know, I'm shameless at plugging. I still dream of that lasagna. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The next day was spent snorkling. And if our baby comes out not loving the water, I'm not sure what happened. I think it's safe to say though that this would be my last beach trip until the little one is born. I could tell though that next year will be really awesome.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9k6XQb71C0I0vlhyphenhyphenmJsph22ERfeIYMn08q6WrEj6WoKaCM1P4y5YijimIfGapgop8PbyMpbfApXbTtsu_xIHbtbxw4gf_32U0TP8hqBLkTA-0aQBDAxvaqBW7m_2X6-JdooQL3vtM8vAe/s1600/P1030727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9k6XQb71C0I0vlhyphenhyphenmJsph22ERfeIYMn08q6WrEj6WoKaCM1P4y5YijimIfGapgop8PbyMpbfApXbTtsu_xIHbtbxw4gf_32U0TP8hqBLkTA-0aQBDAxvaqBW7m_2X6-JdooQL3vtM8vAe/s200/P1030727.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFTZyGEVOs67A1UzibpFQKAYMo0ZnFGlCMuo6Vb9aF8oIg6m7ptkPkGkIJHqVyJ7HN293toQy6tgNzaN_ZFnsfQhn7LsyIhAc6Z9RK9qAkqrM9k91_kzwGpj9QkBfupfWYXAN2gC0WlTd/s1600/P1030802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFTZyGEVOs67A1UzibpFQKAYMo0ZnFGlCMuo6Vb9aF8oIg6m7ptkPkGkIJHqVyJ7HN293toQy6tgNzaN_ZFnsfQhn7LsyIhAc6Z9RK9qAkqrM9k91_kzwGpj9QkBfupfWYXAN2gC0WlTd/s200/P1030802.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-91105405265601382142011-07-01T19:00:00.000-07:002011-07-01T19:07:21.731-07:00a movie your running other half would like to watch<div style="text-align: justify;">So I was just browsing through Chuvaness.com, after reading the post on the new Bench billboards (featuring athletes from the Philippine Soccer and Rugby teams). I was just about to close the tab when I spotted a post on a Japanese Film Festival about to happen at Shangri-La Mall. The hubby was milling around in the kitchen cooking breakfast when I said the (apparently) magic words:</div><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Ey hun, there's a film about running."</span></blockquote><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">This was followed by quick queries of when and what. The film is called <b>Feel the Wind (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">風が強く吹いている</span>)</b> and it is centered around the Hakone Ekiden, a premiere collegiate relay ultra-marathon. From the synopsis published online, it tells of how two runners who've left the circuit are inspired to run again and choose the famed ultra-marathon as THE race. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://images1.asianmediawiki.com/images/7/74/Feel_the_Wind-03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="http://images1.asianmediawiki.com/images/7/74/Feel_the_Wind-03.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://images1.asianmediawiki.com/images/5/5d/Feel_the_Wind-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://images1.asianmediawiki.com/images/5/5d/Feel_the_Wind-01.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The race is actually a relay among 10 runners from Tokyo to Hakone. The race is split into two days with 5 legs on each day. So the two lead characters recruit 8 more, some of which think they're just insane. The movie is an account of this struggling and unlikely group of runners as they run to achieve the impossible. The film is based on a novel by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0648463/">Sumio Omori</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://blog.tokyololas.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/hakone-ekiden-map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="325" src="http://blog.tokyololas.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/hakone-ekiden-map.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hakone-Ekiden map from http://blog.tokyololas.com/</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
The Japanese Film Festival runs in Manila (Shangri-La Plaza) from July 1 to July 10. This specific film shows on the following dates and times: July 5, Tuesday at 7:00pm; July 7, Thursday at 1:00pm; July 10, Sunday at 4:00pm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">For full details about the other films and the complete schedule, click <a href="http://www.jfmo.org.ph/articles_arts-and-culture/film_festivals/arts_and_culture_film_festival-eigasai2011.php">HERE</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-12366787974271572572011-06-14T02:23:00.000-07:002011-06-15T02:02:09.097-07:00when you can't run far away because your wife is pregnant.<div style="text-align: justify;">So you're used to going on daily runs. After work, maybe and hour or two of jogging and running around the city before heading home. But what? Oh my, now your wife is pregnant. She's alone at home and can go into fits of nausea at any given moment. There's this instinct that makes you just want to be home or at least nearer. You're torn. But you guess that fatherly drive actually kicks in earlier than you thought.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So what now? The muscles still need to churn. You've got races you want to do PR's in. And all the food and energy needs to be burned somehow. Well, as the pregnant wife with a husband struggling to still keep his running in stride, I have noted the following as possible alternatives to the far-running-away.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Treadmill</b>. The obvious indoor choice. The boring indoor choice. The ultra-runner, trail-loving hubby doesn't really detest it (okay, maybe he does) but it's the running choice better than not running at all. The gym in the condo has some and at least he's technically already home. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I think it can pose its own kind of mental challenge. Like instead of trying to focus your mind on running X-amount of kilometers with a fair stream of sanity, correct pacing, and positivity, you can challenge your brain to practice selective hearing in order to block out other people's useless clatter and horrid taste in radio stations.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Of the few times I actually went on the treadmill, I actually tried to close my eyes so I could imagine myself somewhere else. Like in a field. With furry dogs running alongside me with their tongues sticking out. But then I lost my footing and almost fell to the side of the machine. So maybe trying to imagine things with your eyes open can be another challenge.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Stairs</b>. We live on the 11th floor and sometimes, just to have that break from the all-horizontal life, the hubby likes to climb up and down the fire escape. He does the "Honey, I'm home!" bit, makes sure I'm okay and changes into his gear. For sure he reaches the ground floor. I'm just not sure if he goes any higher than our floor. I really can't imagine it. I usually am ready to die by the third flight of stairs.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's safe to say that he works up a healthy bit of sweat. It's not anything like running up an incline in some tree-laced road, but again, it's really better than nothing.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><b>ERRATUM</b>: It has been brought to my attention that the hubby reaches the roof deck of our building. Which is I think the 27th floor. The up-and-down then continues for at least three times, with running around the complex as "breaks" in between. Now I don't really know why running around would be considered a break. Usually a break you know, means to stop and stand still.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Pool</b>. The condominium complex we live in has a nice pool, where a section of it I think has a decent lap length. The hubby sometimes trades in his running shoes drenched in sweat for a legitimate dose of liquid. He'd do a couple of laps and as per a tip on a running magazine, does some "running" in the water. The sight is peculiar. It can be replaced by an old lady undergoing water therapy for some joint injury.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But it seems to be a great challenge - both on strength and perseverance. Because the water will want to stop you. And you need to work against it in order to move forward. Since you're fighting the water's resistance, your body would tend to lean forward too (which is, I hear, part of having good running form).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Just prepare for some of the kids in the pool to look at you weird. Despite themselves sitting on inflated animals with unproportional body parts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Kitchen</b>. Okay so it's not really running-related. But at least you get to help relieve your pregnant wife of the gag reflex at the slightest odor of garlic. Chopping and cooking food involves precision, patience and being in tune with your senses. That's just like being in a sport, I suppose. Oh and sometimes you also get wet. Like, when you need to wash the dishes. It also involves friction and resistance. Not in a swimming pool, but like, with some stupid sauce blob that decided to solidify at the bottom of a pan.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Alright, I'm out of things to say. I'm currently killing time waiting for my husband (I don't think he's supposed to run after work today) and I should be getting to cook in a bit. Till the next post, guys. Take care.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">.</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-63702931129225654792011-05-17T21:41:00.000-07:002011-05-17T21:41:19.718-07:00the ultramarathoner's would-be best friend<div style="text-align: justify;">We love dogs. We each have labradors (who are happy-dappy, but have gotten infused to our parent's laid-back outlook in life) we'd love to play with more often. I miss having a dog to cuddle with so much, and I compensate by watching a lot of <a href="http://animal.discovery.com/">Animal Planet</a>, specifically, <a href="http://animal.discovery.com/tv/dogs-101/">Dogs 101</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">That day, they were featuring the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4USlfvBKBwQ">Rhodesian Ridgeback</a>. It's a large breed, very dignified in stature. When the host said that it's a breed that some athletes look for, I just had to scream and call the hubby into the room.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.petsfoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Rhodesian-Ridgeback2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://www.petsfoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Rhodesian-Ridgeback2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Originally bred in Southern Rhodesia, Zimbabwe, they were used as hunting and protector dogs. Specifically, to hunt for lions. Which is why they're also called the Lion Dog or African Lion Hound. Intense, yes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">The great thing about this dog is that its history lends itself well to its ability to run great distances (try <b>30 miles</b> in a single clip) and sustain its energy even in extreme temperatures and varying terrain. There are some athletes, runners specifically, who have these Ridgebacks as their running / training buddies.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_chvQTgXOMes/TLdfaUxBZjI/AAAAAAAAAIk/nED4EDyA_Wg/s1600/ridgebacks+running.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_chvQTgXOMes/TLdfaUxBZjI/AAAAAAAAAIk/nED4EDyA_Wg/s400/ridgebacks+running.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Though they would happily live in big spaces with access to the great outdoors (like my hubby and his love for the trail), they also make good city dwellers for as long as they get an hour's exercise every day. The hubby says it wouldn't be a problem, as that's just like... 10 kilometers. For him at least.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">If we had one, it would be great. Maybe we could even train it to be a support crew.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">.</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-18668414142232165982011-04-26T20:38:00.000-07:002011-04-26T20:38:23.763-07:00so the hubby's not running TNF100<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Remember the <a href="http://imarriedarunner.blogspot.com/2011/02/thrill-of-trailtnf100-camsur.html">first time</a> he asked for a really good reason to NOT run? Well, apparently my concerns of him breaking a leg, falling or dying wasn't good enough. It did though come to some point that I really did just want him to run, because I could feel that he really wanted to do it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">But then our little bean came into the picture. So he's decided to give up his kit and not run this coming weekend. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLOsx53UfGTYb4fKQSXyzy1bnsE8K19Oi33OP63GInrCCfYRpXe80bH4OagE3cA6xqCG0YLcSDluwolGBLbRY8YAaXPy8qxuVfL_93gjKFBQrZzcV0_c5LCbpJGYpbpE2IrCAzokdHhuuU/s1600/P1030100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLOsx53UfGTYb4fKQSXyzy1bnsE8K19Oi33OP63GInrCCfYRpXe80bH4OagE3cA6xqCG0YLcSDluwolGBLbRY8YAaXPy8qxuVfL_93gjKFBQrZzcV0_c5LCbpJGYpbpE2IrCAzokdHhuuU/s400/P1030100.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">So the "I have to run TNF100 this year" goal is out for now. Maybe next year. The new goal is to do a sub-four in a marathon. There are two coming up this June-July, and there's a 50k trail as well that's under consideration. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But as of now, much of our excitement (as well as the grandparents-to-be) is on getting our bean healthy and well. I'll have to get a nice chair for finish line waiting now. Haha.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">.</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-9760354950445480312011-04-10T21:08:00.000-07:002011-04-10T21:08:49.517-07:00on certificates, pregnancy and ziplines<div style="text-align: justify;">Finishing a race, it's great to get a medal. And it's really great to get a trophy. Sometimes, you also get a finisher's certificate. Having completed the <a href="http://imarriedarunner.blogspot.com/2011/02/hk-marathon-2011-before-day-and-after.html">Standard Chartered HK Marathon</a>, the race kit says that they'll actually mail you an official certificate of achievement. Isn't that way cool? They'll actually go through all the effort of mailing stuff, no matter where you came from. Well, I guess it would just be fair, since we flew to HK for it anyway. But still.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">And hello lookie what we got in the mail one day!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe62DnB4FtMub1PP-m5Kfxl32gRRyjO3K2tHFOAVsIUeh3ehF2eMVOwE4d03xArw0PcbYn69MJWHMtzSZ71acBls5p52ll-XcW0VBuL9bQM_0de7Elp7zVQgGMTGeALNEt7BQcpRvk07AX/s1600/P1010997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe62DnB4FtMub1PP-m5Kfxl32gRRyjO3K2tHFOAVsIUeh3ehF2eMVOwE4d03xArw0PcbYn69MJWHMtzSZ71acBls5p52ll-XcW0VBuL9bQM_0de7Elp7zVQgGMTGeALNEt7BQcpRvk07AX/s400/P1010997.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOTWiD3SE1Pp7dzP9j2hGotd2CVNIxFPlDxNpPYTcgIFmYAtj1G6Mt2BiC5GUzs_VZOTsU0mlp6TtHstEiD6MsAljbSdeI9-OkOz915gSdwzCzODoThoM4Cj0UlA_76CC_W6cg_YxNhA42/s1600/P1010995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOTWiD3SE1Pp7dzP9j2hGotd2CVNIxFPlDxNpPYTcgIFmYAtj1G6Mt2BiC5GUzs_VZOTsU0mlp6TtHstEiD6MsAljbSdeI9-OkOz915gSdwzCzODoThoM4Cj0UlA_76CC_W6cg_YxNhA42/s400/P1010995.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It actually looks really cool. The paper is nice too. Like, with full-on colored printing. No scrimping on ink there. Nice, I would say. But wait. What's that? Oh my glorious typographic God.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi51w625zUpmaInIBYRXa_s7VOWvhqHzspRpc24FTNAhRAtHYGSxx1VfbWdCfUMCGuRiYPwvvp9atNwqSEM9yMSDt7DHSskQYPoGRGsZUVzV-5oKH1NJkmxzMOMYFG4H5F6hsqr3i8TGTo/s1600/P1010998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi51w625zUpmaInIBYRXa_s7VOWvhqHzspRpc24FTNAhRAtHYGSxx1VfbWdCfUMCGuRiYPwvvp9atNwqSEM9yMSDt7DHSskQYPoGRGsZUVzV-5oKH1NJkmxzMOMYFG4H5F6hsqr3i8TGTo/s400/P1010998.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">DID THEY JUST USE COMIC SANS? They did! Your name, for all the hardship of running through biting cold weather, breaking through and surviving with tens of thousands of runners - it is written in all capitalized glory of Comic Sans. Ugh, I cannot express my utter hatred for this typeface. I'm sorry Standard Chartered, the prestige just got bumped down by the use of the most loathed font by typegeeks around the world.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Okay, I will leave that now and go onto more uppity news. We are pregnant! Just a couple of weeks along. Maybe a month. As my cousin says, what a way to get out of running. Haha. I am now officially regressing my jogging program. Also because I haven't done anything fitness-y for more than a week. Which would probably make this kiddo a BDM baby. Which would kind of dispel the belief that marathon and/or long-distance running would make it umm, harder.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Which brings me to the third subject of this post: there's a really cool trail run coming in July. The TNF100 we're not actually sure if we're attending. Well, Chips hasn't decided yet if he's to still run it or not. A lot of sacrifices are going to be made in the next 9 months, and I really hate that it could hold back on the hubby's joy for trail running.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5225/5594472354_6128f851f9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5225/5594472354_6128f851f9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, the July trail run is in Cagayan De Oro, Mindanao. It's so cool. You get to run through pineapple fields and mountains. More details are in <a href="http://thebullrunner.com/2011/04/07/cdo-dahilayan-55k-ultramarathon/">TBR's blog</a>. The race is organized by a good running friend of Chips, which is also a motivation for us to go.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My original motivation was to get to try the zipline which is in the park where the finish line is. It's actually the longest in Asia! Isn't that totally awesome?!? Oh the speedfreak in me is shaking with anticipation. BUT THEN, I'm pregnant. And well, I don't think they allow it. DAMN. Oh well.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So that's what's been happening so far. I'm going to play Angry Birds now.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">.</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-21558855434098925112011-04-04T22:43:00.000-07:002011-04-04T22:43:32.933-07:00him and me: statement shirts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR222nL_bZ7FRDc5KezG1dSDLnXv8DD6nu1BhzdHHrgP1307_qIZUjBr0oHtTSVIiAPZbuVYoRnjRx-CYVd5Z9bOB8O7cc6grlSlOp9BbFvF5KghaJNLD4Hjs7Y6r1ss3GzZURU1rFr6o7/s1600/P1010978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR222nL_bZ7FRDc5KezG1dSDLnXv8DD6nu1BhzdHHrgP1307_qIZUjBr0oHtTSVIiAPZbuVYoRnjRx-CYVd5Z9bOB8O7cc6grlSlOp9BbFvF5KghaJNLD4Hjs7Y6r1ss3GzZURU1rFr6o7/s400/P1010978.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">HIM.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTJEql0oRxQ-3t0c5dZMFEd3c6rssT_BzjLZ6mOiSPjoLtsEAK-7Lge6v4URouYxByudtaIuKexbRm75vcnc-qNeZCu9g2bEjMleHtbLm1Dko0SHDYQDGpMJoX6i9ItcNQ12I8tCSYvAVn/s1600/P1010981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTJEql0oRxQ-3t0c5dZMFEd3c6rssT_BzjLZ6mOiSPjoLtsEAK-7Lge6v4URouYxByudtaIuKexbRm75vcnc-qNeZCu9g2bEjMleHtbLm1Dko0SHDYQDGpMJoX6i9ItcNQ12I8tCSYvAVn/s400/P1010981.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">ME.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">.</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-86930831021444621502011-03-31T22:26:00.000-07:002011-03-31T22:34:43.882-07:00will he love me more if i ran?<div style="text-align: justify;">A couple of ladies shared this link on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/dezphaire">Facebook,</a> which happened to drop on my wall while I was online. It's a blog entry from renowned runner-blogger Jaymie Pizarro aka <a href="http://thebullrunner.com/">The Bull Runner.</a> The entry was entitled <i><a href="http://thebullrunner.com/2011/03/29/date-a-girl-who-runs/">Date a Girl Who Runs</a>.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I read it. It was very well-crafted. A brilliant unfolding of insight and words. And halfway thru, it got me confused. Because I really didn't know what to make of myself. Maybe I should look at it the other way. Replace female pronouns with male ones. Because really, I not only dated a guy who runs, I married one.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Somehow it didn't make me feel better. Especially when it came to the part discussing the "never let her go" and the train-togethers and the getting married to a girl who runs. The beauty of that entry was that <b>it made perfect sense</b>. Thru my husband, I had the opportunity to know a lot of running couples. Some of the girls even doing better than their other halves. Some following suit and training for the insanity that their husbands/boyfriends operate in.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I cut back to the day when the hubby was browsing thru friend's profiles and congratulating them for pacing their wives who ran their first mary's on the <a href="http://thebullrunner.com/2011/03/21/part-1-dreams-can-come-true/">TBR Dream Marathon</a>. He was so ecstatic that he got this second-hand running high. He was looking at their times and couldn't believe how these women did so well. He was extremely happy and proud for them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Which made me think, really. Okay, I will not hide the insecurity. Am I writing this defensively? Maybe. Is it a bit of oversharing? Perhaps. I'll be honest. It's a bit of thinking that happens once in a while, when I remember how different we are. And for as long as we're together, we'll just be that way.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px;">She will never force your children to run, but they will learn to love it when they see her passion for running. She will make living a healthy, active life easy, natural, and best of all, fun. Expect a lot of laughter, sweat, and sports beans. Running will not be a sport, but it will be a way of life for you and your children. You will never run alone.</span></blockquote><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hmm. I can't imagine having that. I mean, I like sports beans. They're sweet and they give that jolly zap. But I don't think I'll have them because I need them for some athletic training. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Which leads me to wonder about our "different" moments. Like every time that he tells me to do one more round, or to just get out of the house and jog, to do something other than be on the computer; each time he does that, does he wish I was a sportier girl? Every time he shows annoyance to why I don't understand that it would be better if I jogged without music so I could listen to my body; each time that my stubbornness renders me totally uncoachable, does he feel regret? Would he be happier with someone who's not a couch potato, a shopaholic, a paper-hoarder who likes to take brewed coffee extremely slowly?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I take a sip from my coffee, which has been sitting by my computer screen for around 30 minutes. Its warmth has almost escaped the mug. I scroll up, see the sappy title, and my fingers threaten to use the Command+A+Del sequence. The little blinking line taunts me, as it awaits my decision. And in a fit of hearing <a href="http://www.ladygaga.com/news/default.aspx?nid=34396">Lady Gaga</a> stomping away singing <a href="http://www.ladygaga.com/news/default.aspx?nid=33476">Born this Way</a> (fittingly) on a music channel, I decide to let all this drama known to the world.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Because even if I'm not the girl who runs, I am <a href="http://abuggedlife.com/2011/03/11/date-a-girl-who-blogs/">the girl who blogs</a>. And I am <a href="http://themonicabird.com/post/3273155431/date-a-girl-who-reads-date-a-girl-who-spends-her">the girl who reads</a>. I am the girl who is many things that may not be running and I'm sure <b>at least</b> <b>one</b> of those things was reason enough for my guy who runs to date me and marry me. If love was already unconditional, then it wouldn't be right to think of even demanding more.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
Now let's publish this thing.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">.</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-72553603859248802392011-03-30T03:21:00.000-07:002011-07-25T20:16:00.749-07:00the pre-race diet<div style="text-align: justify;">Okay here it is. What we do and eat approaching race day. I say "we" because I really would rather cook one meal for the both of us (most of the time). Than bothering to eat something sinfully to my taste, because I would have to cook it too. And wash. And fix. Well, you get the picture.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Just a disclaimer - I am not some dietician, nor am I one knowledgeable in food groups etcetera etcetera. I did what I could to pass health class in High School. But that's just about it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The diet was "developed" (ooh, sounds really professional) across several races. It was basically based on what made him feel good approaching the race, during his training and of course during the race itself. There must be some science behind it, the simple being we really do know what's good and what's bad for us. The yummy stuff usually being the bad, indulgent ones. *Guilty* </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU289gJaXBKyyCqRoWKJSfM9HrxfL0IfuX-pgVEQDm3cXhnuUvQmXCCONGf46jyBW_vj7NMmSaajiXZbzyYbx5kGNW9mAq2nbVRwFadZ7CBqWXaDKQvJ-QJMl4qI7IbBk7m7289seRVt34/s1600/diet+grid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU289gJaXBKyyCqRoWKJSfM9HrxfL0IfuX-pgVEQDm3cXhnuUvQmXCCONGf46jyBW_vj7NMmSaajiXZbzyYbx5kGNW9mAq2nbVRwFadZ7CBqWXaDKQvJ-QJMl4qI7IbBk7m7289seRVt34/s400/diet+grid.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's not a strict diet. Though if he could avoid eating pork and beef altogether, he would. Especially if it's down to two weeks before race day. It's something that he says keeps his energy up longer, and makes him feel "lighter". So that's good. Having fish or seafood as the main source of protein gets him hungry easily - so the snacking becomes frequent. But to that we try to have fresh fruits and/or a simple whole wheat sandwich.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">That leaves all the cupcakes, bacon, spam and sausages for me :) </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjcaCrD57sohZEM6A-uKKB1QNub0z76_AOQ56S9lvBCb3cX40uzy-u2ZsPU36tD94DGEElI69HHrFUZii0pvQiK_TkmFs7kR5zF4JXmrhzTB0XeMCLr12DdM7YMOn5zG3jlRRvkp1e9uf/s1600/P1010499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjcaCrD57sohZEM6A-uKKB1QNub0z76_AOQ56S9lvBCb3cX40uzy-u2ZsPU36tD94DGEElI69HHrFUZii0pvQiK_TkmFs7kR5zF4JXmrhzTB0XeMCLr12DdM7YMOn5zG3jlRRvkp1e9uf/s400/P1010499.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cereal with Fruits and Raisins for Breakfast</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo-M8RNe5Hltfj0c1dOh0krUYYNXVj7vIBelsjntuH3F-z-LmKGoYbdN6MUXQa8iQlmZkMDSjAIjKvjTA2FW-dcPjQfurohIeJbywHvSDU5i9OGibEIYCdQWrztDDVstFSG2spPAme775N/s1600/P1010553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo-M8RNe5Hltfj0c1dOh0krUYYNXVj7vIBelsjntuH3F-z-LmKGoYbdN6MUXQa8iQlmZkMDSjAIjKvjTA2FW-dcPjQfurohIeJbywHvSDU5i9OGibEIYCdQWrztDDVstFSG2spPAme775N/s400/P1010553.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pan-grilled Fish with Eggplants, Brown Rice and Dragonfruit</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
Cooking healthy isn't easy. Well, for me at least - the reluctant domestic goddess that I am. Keeping fresh produce from rotting away. Trying to avoid frying. I bought a Meyer teflon-coated grill pan last week, which would at least help cut down on using oil. If we do need to deep-fry, paper towels are a runner's wife's best friend. Blot that oil out to death like you're trying desperately to mattify your face on a humid day.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Over the weekend, we were at the beach. Trips like these are <b>dangerous</b>, because the basking in the sun and enjoying the scenery won't be complete without good food. The beach we went to had basic dwellings and no food arrangements. So we had to make do with easy cooking and what we could buy at the local market. Which meant... well, cheating. Which was okay, he says, because it's still a month to go. So inevitably it means we're not going beaching until that <a href="http://www.thrillofthetrail.ph/">TNF100</a> run is over.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6LRYzlGbMfjkSzWxtTkv1rUnh89aTKki3HXGcZuGmV9WCSNIuLWnG7-A306qLyrxJkCSWkPpVk3SOwkXadGmU1_79SaV8uaWKf3zKwVv1WWl1DgGs6Vww4HS0HXntYEE77hzQkbTUiQRA/s1600/P1010824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6LRYzlGbMfjkSzWxtTkv1rUnh89aTKki3HXGcZuGmV9WCSNIuLWnG7-A306qLyrxJkCSWkPpVk3SOwkXadGmU1_79SaV8uaWKf3zKwVv1WWl1DgGs6Vww4HS0HXntYEE77hzQkbTUiQRA/s400/P1010824.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bag of cheesy happiness, Cheetos vs. Grilled Fish. Cheetos win.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguICf-jrKG3aIzf1nFrjNJ9GGga_n0o6B3jX756Uv8D49YYOrrhvXq8cTTDXJR1_Ls1DmgT6CU3Owdospgd1z8Ldb9Rw2Cnu4mHwYLXkTBN8HFRztY-R4nj54lNEnIXndmCV12fIrznafW/s1600/P1010819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguICf-jrKG3aIzf1nFrjNJ9GGga_n0o6B3jX756Uv8D49YYOrrhvXq8cTTDXJR1_Ls1DmgT6CU3Owdospgd1z8Ldb9Rw2Cnu4mHwYLXkTBN8HFRztY-R4nj54lNEnIXndmCV12fIrznafW/s400/P1010819.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corona Extra = carbo-loading. So it's okay, allegedly.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWMVC8f-_HIh0X9IgunUgfE65EEAXpmrDeCFfLNVZ719PUxjM_4v0rlMcvz2p6aMVLD6YOcQW23fA0fWvVVq8bQK2Tf-mUFLv2oIf3VqYHv6P2m3j0wP0bY12HIYIMqfyQkkItjrnsKA8/s1600/P1010829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWMVC8f-_HIh0X9IgunUgfE65EEAXpmrDeCFfLNVZ719PUxjM_4v0rlMcvz2p6aMVLD6YOcQW23fA0fWvVVq8bQK2Tf-mUFLv2oIf3VqYHv6P2m3j0wP0bY12HIYIMqfyQkkItjrnsKA8/s400/P1010829.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grilled Fish now joined by cheese dogs and Chicken BBQ. Oh no.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRffMUr0KHrDXn5Vj5_R6KrReLq45B52g0PIhx84OXErBPHt9wZPTf47kAExcDDcLgeTsDLMMJOaWpJCJXO8QmSqNCI1q3jxJJ-mNs8KrJ_iXbapyiHRHxuA0bfToQj2F_Q8u1BO0Pvf_G/s1600/P1010857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRffMUr0KHrDXn5Vj5_R6KrReLq45B52g0PIhx84OXErBPHt9wZPTf47kAExcDDcLgeTsDLMMJOaWpJCJXO8QmSqNCI1q3jxJJ-mNs8KrJ_iXbapyiHRHxuA0bfToQj2F_Q8u1BO0Pvf_G/s400/P1010857.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner on the way home: Army Navy burgers.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguaQq2feurqN0xZVs_BZOcfK6O5NKr3oLCOMgLC71UchwafVTbWU-41Blp6OE8pYhX_91R3z03_65SpykLtOjEpIKAQH8A5zR2Muku07uv5NWwXhVcugTkzf8tAtTKUg0O_H-8Nz4urOJb/s1600/P1010859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguaQq2feurqN0xZVs_BZOcfK6O5NKr3oLCOMgLC71UchwafVTbWU-41Blp6OE8pYhX_91R3z03_65SpykLtOjEpIKAQH8A5zR2Muku07uv5NWwXhVcugTkzf8tAtTKUg0O_H-8Nz4urOJb/s400/P1010859.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two patties, cheese and a load of Jalapenos.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Don't worry diet, we'll get right back on you now.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">.</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-9226412415132318262011-03-27T22:00:00.001-07:002011-03-27T22:00:49.043-07:00the universe doesn't want me to run.Let's take the path of less resistance. I say that "training" and looking forward to something will set you up for a lot of "oh man" non-warm fuzzy feelings that can't be solved by a cup of coffee and a cupcake when it doesn't happen.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.neccel.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/NatGeo-EDR-technical-shirts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.neccel.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/NatGeo-EDR-technical-shirts.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Should've been, would've been, could've been. I won't be getting that shirt. Remember the <a href="http://imarriedarunner.blogspot.com/2011/03/dear-front-runner-magazine-thanks-for.html">last post</a> I wrote about me being some quasi-training-runner for the 2011 NatGeo run? Well yeah, it turns out that the shorter distances are already closed. I underestimated the breadth of aspiring running bums like myself. Or really how many kids way younger and faster than me want to cross a finish line. Now, unless I would like to kill myself before I actually find a job again, I'll go ahead and do the 21k.</div><br />
Yeah, I'm not going to lie. This bum is actually bummed. I'll just go back to looking at pretty pictures and <a href="http://thefozzybook.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>-ing them. It doesn't involve pressure nor does it make you sweat and writhe in pain.<br />
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.dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-26843589406165739642011-03-23T01:12:00.000-07:002011-03-23T01:12:44.421-07:00dear Front Runner Magazine, thanks for giving my husband ideas.<div style="text-align: justify;">Okay, I kind of mean that sarcastically. Alright, who am I kidding. I can't say I'm totally happy that he read that article. And I can't say that I'm spastically bummed either. Primarily because this now directly concerns - ME. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwcVCMqjTq_AnQr9xTz2F7gWwIaEZI3UIFzQKrDUWRKGaExfWj9tzpmtL27wQtDUoKBtI8P7QAd1BgLDbwK_lUOoctnMXgNbpXpeO_Lo4HSMIrrXez2WCyx1F9Aodl6RKSY0kU3rIi23m/s1600/P1010787.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwcVCMqjTq_AnQr9xTz2F7gWwIaEZI3UIFzQKrDUWRKGaExfWj9tzpmtL27wQtDUoKBtI8P7QAd1BgLDbwK_lUOoctnMXgNbpXpeO_Lo4HSMIrrXez2WCyx1F9Aodl6RKSY0kU3rIi23m/s400/P1010787.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We got this issue at the BDM 2011 Celebration Dinner. It had Sir Jovie aka <a href="http://baldrunner.com/">Bald Runner</a> on the cover. I think this is our second issue... or third. I don't really pay attention to them, as they are dwarfed by the ginormous issues of <a href="http://www.vogue.com/">Vogue</a> and <a href="http://www.harpersbazaar.com/">Harper's Bazaar</a>. Okay, cue in some little back story.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">BACK STORY:</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Watching <a href="http://natgeotv.com/asia">National Geographic</a>, I see this ad on an <a href="http://www.natgeorun.com/2011/">Earth Day Run</a>. I love the world. I think it's the most awesome thing. When I was a kid, wanted to be a planeteer. I wanted to meet Captain Planet. So I saw that there was 3K distance and I told the hubby that maybe I could run that. I rally some of my friends to join (I'm not sure if they will). And asked Chips if he could pace me again, like the <a href="http://imarriedarunner.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-first-ever-race-that-made-my-husband.html">last time</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Okay, back to now</b>: the hubby I think is really excited. And I don't know where this "maybe I could run the 3k" initiative came from. I suppose I really love Mother Earth. We all should, anyway. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyhoo, where does Front Runner come in? Zoom down into the little lower left corner:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDjm25PXuC4GtuLMrYIBDdfc8Ckb90bF4XXTm1QXclTlvI-eN6h2l-Q6nbRL15-TVYIL0s7DdSa-8aG6X93Vy7w0SDZimi1foy-L-Kut43HQBrTKMy05QTpXQP-m3ZAKzfh96Ptn_e1yzE/s1600/P1010788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDjm25PXuC4GtuLMrYIBDdfc8Ckb90bF4XXTm1QXclTlvI-eN6h2l-Q6nbRL15-TVYIL0s7DdSa-8aG6X93Vy7w0SDZimi1foy-L-Kut43HQBrTKMy05QTpXQP-m3ZAKzfh96Ptn_e1yzE/s400/P1010788.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">One evening, Chips did a scurry to me while I was doing my calligraphy in our study. He had the magazine in his hand, pointing to the bold sans-serif text. <i>Hey hunny, this is perfect for you</i>. Or something like that. I look at him pensively.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>This program is totally easy! And it's really doable. It's like what I do *pause* but with longer distances.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">He shows me the article, which had a table under it. It was divided into 8 weeks. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>We could just adjust it to the three weeks you have until the race. You can stop here *points to a part in the table* because you're just racing 3k anyway and just...</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I zone out a bit. He asks me for the scissors, and I give it to him. He then proceeds to cut the table and sticks in on our shoe cabinet (well it's a cabinet for clothes that we have filled with shoes).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaGOiK2p2_4OJIvLF3c7XcO1x6TVaLwie8Cj2T9MdIf9cabp6iXsmE6tGPmJv4m69PyWNlEJb5koBMlTDN51JXNIJ6YUmbTiBxE7lDl2FF10A7SkYnYFgk2a7YIR_Ty9fpphK9EavJKTPh/s1600/P1010789.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaGOiK2p2_4OJIvLF3c7XcO1x6TVaLwie8Cj2T9MdIf9cabp6iXsmE6tGPmJv4m69PyWNlEJb5koBMlTDN51JXNIJ6YUmbTiBxE7lDl2FF10A7SkYnYFgk2a7YIR_Ty9fpphK9EavJKTPh/s200/P1010789.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1mf93POg8PVD4MerWMVcTKz7EZpaDoll9Dn4cOgybIzdu5THNzniVhBi1ns6BYWKb2GDWJ6XDBOjjJS_p1iAebAJRePhM8duGpZWY9mSpIbhW_CT26_8voZ0heXhU9dfUE4WjiGd8ZBb/s1600/P1010790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1mf93POg8PVD4MerWMVcTKz7EZpaDoll9Dn4cOgybIzdu5THNzniVhBi1ns6BYWKb2GDWJ6XDBOjjJS_p1iAebAJRePhM8duGpZWY9mSpIbhW_CT26_8voZ0heXhU9dfUE4WjiGd8ZBb/s200/P1010790.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">I've been doing the program for the past 5 days. Which is actually pretty manageable. I think I pretty much surprised my otherwise inactive self a bit. The first runs, though really short distances, really HURT. Yeah I know what you're thinking, you serious runners you, that's the distance you actually just cool down with. I know. It makes me feel somewhat like a wuss.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The day after is usually filled with the inability to squat and reach stuff that are on the floor. It also pains me to go down stairs. Yesterday we ran again and I don't know about my body being deceptive or anything, but so far I'm not feeling so much pain. I guess that's a good thing?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So there. Thanks Front Runner, I am free from my husband's jeering at my once-a-week jogging ritual. Let's just hope this keeps up. I can't believe I even said that.</div><br />
.dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4039632673099013759.post-10978029022536882542011-03-21T00:03:00.000-07:002011-03-21T06:58:57.720-07:00before the diet begins...<div style="text-align: justify;">Yesterday, Chips officially started his pre-race diet. In preparation for the <a href="http://www.thrillofthetrail.ph/the-north-face-100-camsur">TNF100</a> he's doing on Labor Day weekend. So Saturday was the day to eat all the sinful goodnesses that he's going to be avoiding until said race.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">On the top of that list is traditional Batac Ilocos Empanada from <a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001267939384">Empanada Nation</a>. It is a deliciously deep-fried snack (but in truth it could fill you like an over-portioned meal) that has a freshly cracked egg, papaya shreds and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Longaniza">longganisa</a> as its filling, encased in a crunchy orange-colored crust of oily evil. The Ilokano longganisa is known for the intense seasoning of garlic and the <i>Sukang Iloko</i> (or Ilokano vinegar, from sugar canes). The vinegar's pungent scent can send you reeling, but the dark shiny liquid is packed with intense flavour. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_LsPin26oPs1GDIpzGDPF8qkeEOO_i-NKmd6MdLxEB7SrZ4EgcOMfBXHhZZGrGQTiaJtocYQ1ttfiOVCEkTh1LcFh2c-pw2kVFC85QvkQpjsjSOGBFz7EQ8a-S3swY9lOQMoShA-C3yY/s1600/P1010771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_LsPin26oPs1GDIpzGDPF8qkeEOO_i-NKmd6MdLxEB7SrZ4EgcOMfBXHhZZGrGQTiaJtocYQ1ttfiOVCEkTh1LcFh2c-pw2kVFC85QvkQpjsjSOGBFz7EQ8a-S3swY9lOQMoShA-C3yY/s400/P1010771.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can choose from a wide array of combinations!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFjcVgbHVdQ1q-JZZFVOxt6_sKbDIirkAILZbg4hFS1YE8SEPAXS6WfUnL64Mf-Sacp0113FcKY4fqInyD7Mxz8yhEFAgX85nRXfGA4k2-oMzLNdav_XQrpzoEvaLf-yv71Iz_FVgIOIty/s1600/P1010773.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFjcVgbHVdQ1q-JZZFVOxt6_sKbDIirkAILZbg4hFS1YE8SEPAXS6WfUnL64Mf-Sacp0113FcKY4fqInyD7Mxz8yhEFAgX85nRXfGA4k2-oMzLNdav_XQrpzoEvaLf-yv71Iz_FVgIOIty/s400/P1010773.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The deep-fried well of evil.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9DPQ6MMUXL5FY85wVFrc3vdacmpIIqxRF5A36n7KZKY64FmRIOqUV68oUOtp9jWHQu2DyDSlYp1G9QJc81y81bIdjaa17gXRFOcb4qObGfVk81aR2ogfEhbM_2hnDZ7AaHBcDxiT_JuPB/s1600/P1010774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9DPQ6MMUXL5FY85wVFrc3vdacmpIIqxRF5A36n7KZKY64FmRIOqUV68oUOtp9jWHQu2DyDSlYp1G9QJc81y81bIdjaa17gXRFOcb4qObGfVk81aR2ogfEhbM_2hnDZ7AaHBcDxiT_JuPB/s400/P1010774.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two bottles of <i>Sukang Iloko</i> one's got chili soaking in it and one's just regular.<br />
And yes, that's Ketchup.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Despite being of Ilokano descent, I regrettably never developed the taste for vinegar. I think Chips is actually more of it than me. He can douse food in vinegar like anything. Well, at least not like my mom. Who treats it like milk.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxdwazur2e6JY67y_tA269oeMbKTmJoYaXZFBUqmP8DGX_UAnTVPFIFHQREX8Sqd86ZEkbefPDoC9KPx0xjOyaoBLx7xzUAgSy6o7sQ0otZqYdct5K70FwNvZyC541svW1PQiF1IVp9ba-/s1600/P1010777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxdwazur2e6JY67y_tA269oeMbKTmJoYaXZFBUqmP8DGX_UAnTVPFIFHQREX8Sqd86ZEkbefPDoC9KPx0xjOyaoBLx7xzUAgSy6o7sQ0otZqYdct5K70FwNvZyC541svW1PQiF1IVp9ba-/s400/P1010777.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My empanada is tiny compared to what Chips ordered.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I usually get the Double-Special, which has two longganisas and one egg. My drink of choice? Orange soda. Not just coz it matches the orange crust of the empanada. Squeeze in some ketchup and it's ready to bite into.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">When in Empanada Nation, you can actually customize your empanada. Into how huge or simple you'd want it to be. It can have more longganisa, if you're a carnivore (like me). Or it can have insanely double or triple the egg and longganisa. Please have your heart checked after. </div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEismMVBJbX7BGPkQAXTfHGSUIqeZKgMVJUNdPdZchacGdxBBkODxMEnxpCdkEKqGZIk2KoLuRzfTMloi9aGU07r78EF1xxvJPR4Z6-PB4nxwq9FFBm_PcLiHMEp3mNHiQPS2b_EVLLwsQL7/s1600/P1010775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEismMVBJbX7BGPkQAXTfHGSUIqeZKgMVJUNdPdZchacGdxBBkODxMEnxpCdkEKqGZIk2KoLuRzfTMloi9aGU07r78EF1xxvJPR4Z6-PB4nxwq9FFBm_PcLiHMEp3mNHiQPS2b_EVLLwsQL7/s400/P1010775.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chips got a Double-Double (2 eggs, 2 longganisas) and added 1 more longganisa.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszEwZ0aFzAl3aMFfauq1q7BYDFDbN2sZz1xeNRX60n_6gCE_4WnRF8UMMKChiTEhYgS05IBB4N1_Y884Nh5HC6yb00BNeMVo4El2U1mqn7luARWJ5whszLyv4Yx_7KtbbmjteTSmNf0Tp/s1600/P1010778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgszEwZ0aFzAl3aMFfauq1q7BYDFDbN2sZz1xeNRX60n_6gCE_4WnRF8UMMKChiTEhYgS05IBB4N1_Y884Nh5HC6yb00BNeMVo4El2U1mqn7luARWJ5whszLyv4Yx_7KtbbmjteTSmNf0Tp/s400/P1010778.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I hear-by dub you the TRIPLE LONNGA THREAT.</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">Chips likes it with a hearty sprinkling of the vinegar and a generous squeeze of ketchup. And believe it or not, this was only our <i>mirienda</i> (afternoon snack). After a couple of hours, we drove on to my parent's house where they served us a lovely, lovely dinner. Plus coffee and cookies :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbTzwXn6fbZmk1MDCm6AQzw28jnivm8kK3OmMROba9qna_WWA1VGJU87jDP530N7__bGDEC-2RK6AuKEgVNqouMMyGdABLNQZOxVsk7mhiy852sCPCKaKHSvyh_p2-khGe2BO8oaUBHsz/s1600/P1010776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbTzwXn6fbZmk1MDCm6AQzw28jnivm8kK3OmMROba9qna_WWA1VGJU87jDP530N7__bGDEC-2RK6AuKEgVNqouMMyGdABLNQZOxVsk7mhiy852sCPCKaKHSvyh_p2-khGe2BO8oaUBHsz/s640/P1010776.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Triple-Longga-Threat, you die in the hands of ultra-runner hubby!!!</td></tr>
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So when you're wanting a heart attack of bad, bad goodness, I strongly suggest to drop by <a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001267939384">Empanada Nation</a>. They're located at Scout Tuazon corner Rocess Avenue, Quezon City.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'll write about his pre-race diet later. For now, let me salivate.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">.</div>dezphairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11566575720623641808noreply@blogger.com0