Showing posts with label Finish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Finish. Show all posts

what to do after the BDM 102?

Forget that race diet and EAT SISIG!  The day after the race, Team Chips celebrated by hopping on by to our fave sisig place, Aysee's.  Rice, beer, oily sinful goodness.  Now that's what I call a reward :)

The BEST sisig EVER, with egg and cheese.

Sizzling bangus.

Sizzling hotdogs.

I'm actually salivating as I'm posting this.  LOL.

.

HK Marathon 2011: before, the day, and after.

The good thing about a shopper like me marrying a runner, is that I get to come along for the Hong Kong leg of the Standard Chartered Marathons.  Yey!  Perfect!

We arrive the day before the marathon.  The hotel we stayed at had free airport transfers, which was really convenient.  And it beats paying 300HKD for a cab.  The flight landed us in HK way too early for check-in, so we just left our bags at the concierge and made our way to Victoria Park, where the distribution of race bags was happening.



After getting the race kit, we make our way thru the little streets to find some place to eat.  We ended up in Electric Street, and were faced with rows and rows of noodle houses.  The first place that had english in their menu - we sat and ordered!  Cheap, yummy and just what we needed climate-adjusting on our first day.


The rest of the day, I spent with our friend Maggie, who now resides in HK.  She couldn't believe the route mapped out - it's practically the ENTIRE Hong Kong!  Tunnels, bridges... it's absolutely impressive how the organizers managed to close these thorough-ways to traffic.

The gun start for Chips' 42k wave is at 7am, which is the latest from our experience.  We make our way to Nathan Road early, because we also needed to find the baggage drop, which was on a different street. The organization of the event is really commendable, with security and traffic enforcers everywhere.  I guess the good thing about HK is that their MTR system is so developed, that people could live a day with main roads closed.

wearing the cheapo gloves I got him at Mongkok.  better than nothing!
interesting people at the starting line.
can you spot the hubby?
the only time I saw the MTR tunnel empty.

I had the luxury of sleeping for a bit (and eating tons of bacon at the breakfast buffet) before making my way to the finish line, which was over on the Hong Kong side.  This time, the MTR wasn't so empty.  Walking out of the Causeway Bay exit, I was greeted by a huge throng of people squishing thru the barricades.  For a moment I feared for us who were on the exit escalator, because there was no place to go and it's not like the escalator had a stop button.

Thank goodness the security guys immediately fix the routing of pedestrians, and the street could somewhat breathe.  I was extremely lucky that the street I ended up on was part of the actual race route.  I get myself into a space between the unused barricades and prep the camera.  Waiting and worrying for a good hour, I finally spot the hubby coming towards me.  I scream, but he was in some zone.  Didn't even flinch.  After I get my snaps, I run to Victoria Park to TRY to meet him.

for real?!?
dog spectator.


Chips with fellow Pinoy finisher, Nino Fajardo.

The thing about the hubby looking very Chinese, is that amongst 10,000 runners, he's practically impossible to spot.  I actually tried, three times, to find him within the recovering and resting crowd of runners on the main event area.  Until finally, I just decided to wait at our assigned "if we can't find each other, we meet here" spot.  That's where I finally see him!  YEY!  I had to skip and run and give him a great big hug.  Extremely proud doesn't event begin to describe what I feel for him.



To him, it was the most awesome marathon he's ever done.  They went through tunnels and huge bridges.  It was so cold that his breath turned to mist, and it was hard to grab his gels from his back pocket.  But the view from the bridge - both the horizon and the stomach-churning sight of the water, he says, was AMAZING.

Pinoy marathons have quite a way to go still, he says.  Runners in HK were so strong, that beyond 21k when normally they thin out, he still had so many people to contend with.  Including runners who liked broadcasting their music instead of using earphones - one was playing Kenny G and he unfortunately was at the same pace for a good five minutes.

the new PR.  yeaheah!

Right after the race, we have a second dose of hot noodle soup goodness from the same noodle house of the day before.  We then met up with Maggie again for a walk around Tsim Tsa Tsui.  And since the race is over, Chips can now eat evil food!  Yey!

Cheesedogs wrapped in bacon and deep-fried!
With cuttlefish japanese style, also deep-fried haha!

Peking Duck in oily goodness.

I'm already looking forward to next year :D

.

Condura 2011: a pacer's race

The hubby wasn't supposed to run this race, even if he had total fun running the 42k last year.  He's busy preparing for the HK Marathon on the 20th, and he didn't want to over-race himself before that big day.  But when a couple of his co-workers asked him to just pace them for their 21k, he decided that it would be okay.  He just wouldn't "race" it.

The gun start was scheduled at 4:30am.  I was the designated driver to bring them from the Fort (their meet-up point) to the Ayala Triangle where the starting line was.  And then find somewhere to park near the finish line.

Chips, Frank and Jojo
That's the trio before the start of the race.  I was lucky enough to still be able to get to the Hi-Street parking lot and finding a nearby place to park.  Killing the engine, I fell asleep to the sound of fireworks and people cheering.

I was nudged awake by the sound of a band and people yelling.  Reluctantly, I get out of the car.  Some of the 21k runners were already making their way back.  I guess it's another one of those "feelings" when somehow it just happens that Chips was in fact nearing the finish line.

I find it cool that they had "cheerers" for the finishers.  They had colorful balloons and trumpets.  And I so wanted to blow bubbles.  Oh man, did I want bubbles!  (cue in Finding Nemo scene).



It wasn't long before Chips made his way into the camera's viewfinder.  I was mostly like, "hey, he looks familiar" than "yey!" because I didn't expect him to already be there.  I think the "yey!" had a few seconds delay (oops).  Perhaps I got used to waiting for longer periods of time (excuses, excuses).

Anyway, later on we soon meet up with Frank and Jojo.  We got free ice drops (yey! another) and they got their loot bags.  Breakfast was schublig and barako coffee at Mercato Centrale.



Apparently, medals taste good.

He didn't "destroy" his last 21k PR, but for a non-raced race, did pretty well.  The official results are out, and he places 77 out of 1,804.  He paced Frank and Jojo until around the 13th kilometer, where he says he still felt "really great".  He then decides to break out from the pace and run the rest of the way to the finish line.  Like, run his 10k pace.

I don't know about you, but at 13k I'd probably have no legs.  I actually begin to decompose after 3k.  I am a big admirer of people who have the drive to push through the distance and strain until the finish line finally meets you to give you a big hug.

Congratulations to everyone who crossed the finish line, no matter what distance you ran.  I bow down to you all.


he didn't drink all of the beer.

We had beer in the ref left-over from a weekend dinner.  One Friday night, Chips picks up a bottle.  A few moments later, while I was washing the dishes, he motions for me to make way.  "I just need to throw this," he says.  And so he proceeds to draining a good amount of beer down the sink.

I don't really encounter a lot of guys (especially if they're from where I work) who'd throw away beer.  Or not finish beer.  Unless they've been caught when they're not supposed to be drinking beer.  Or are passing out because of too much beer.

"I just needed to carbo-load.  I'm running tomorrow."

It makes sense, I suppose.  It is made out of wheat.  It also beats him asking me to cook pasta.

On another note, congratulations to him for (using his term) "destroying" his 21k PR, clocking in at 01:50:13 at the Run United 2 race last November 20.  Out of 1,100 runners he's actually number 54!  WOOT in a major way.  Thanks to photovendo for this pic:



my first ever race that made my husband high

Last October 30, I actually had myself signed up for a race.  I had the singlet, the race number.  The good thing was though, that it wasn't something that I needed to get up so early in the morning for.  Thank you, Adobo Magazine, for understanding that not everyone's a morning person.

Gasp!  Wait a major minute.  Yes.  I ran.  An actual race.  Don't get all too giddy, it was just 3k.  What? Just 3K?!? says my subconscious.  I felt like I was going to trip all over myself.  I don't know if this is what they call the "running high" - the part when you seem to be developing dual personalities, debating if it was too tiring for your own good or if it was actually worth all the lung-burning. 

race photos c/o Bob Guerrero

That's the hubby, the ultramarathoner, who took time off from his usual 2-digit kilometer runs to pace me and make sure that I don't quit or sit down in some corner or whatever.  We actually thought that the run was at High Street and I almost went ballistic when we realized that it was at McKinley Hill.  That meant, well, hills.  Like, what?  I can't even run on flat land.  Or jog.  Or walk-jog-ish.  Honestly, I was totally nervous about it.  It may be overthinking it, but hey, this is me coming from zero kilometers, in my first-ever pair of running shoes. Just the thought of Chips not being with me going through the starting line (because he was rogue) made my mind go in circles.

But okay, we're here now and the 10k and 5k runners were being whisked through by their respective starting horns.  There's something about being a non-athlete and warming up.  You kind of feel that you're doing something funny.  The instructor looked fine.  But you feel like there's some part wrong or I don't know, the foot you're kicking up looks mangled and totally not like what the instructor is doing.  Which is probably why I never liked the aerobics we had to do during PE class.  Anyway, I digress.

race photos c/o Bob Guerrero

After the warm-up and the fireworks, the 3K people were asked to assemble by the starting line.  It was so relieving to see Chips as the herd started rolling on.  I kept on thinking about what he said to me, which was at the time confusing... Just don't run when it starts... No pressure... But don't just walk either... Just keep it steady.  Okay.  Steady sounds simple.  NOT.  Steady is like suppressing a sugar high.  Steady is like keeping yourself awake and attentive after drinking cough syrup.  That photo up there was during the first few minutes of the race, just after the U-turn.  Still looking steady, I guess.

A few minutes later, I was huffing like anything and was trying not to let my head spin (I was half wondering if I tied my hair up too tight).  Only to be met by... TADA... a major uphill moment.  Dangnabbit.  As part of our strategy, we quasi-walked it.  A few steps up, I really had to just haul myself slowly.  Then Chips began to jog again.  I guess I had a little bit of competitive fire (it usually takes a backseat in favor of my apathetic self) and tonight, it propelled me to keep up with him.  He says it's just going to be a gradual uphill.  I. wanted. to. die.

But I didn't.  Because the fun really kicked in when we went downhill.  My soul was screaming weeee!!!!  It was like riding a rollercoaster.  I had imaginary waving arms up in the air.  Woohoo certified speed junkie me!!!  I could see my legs, but it's like it wasn't real.  I usually get this kind of thrill horseback riding.  For a moment, I totally forgot that I was actually the one running.  And then we had to go uphill again.  Boo.


Whenever it was uphill, we'd take it slow.  Take the chance to drink some Gatorade.  The thought of why we weren't seeing a water station entered my mind, but then it quickly was replaced by the need to breathe properly.  Inhale through your nose, Chips says.  And breathe out slowly through your mouth.  I didn't really know if it was helping, but at least I was concentrating on something else aside from the burning heap of muscles they usually called calves.

After another quick downhill (damn, I wanted more of that) we were back on level land heading towards the finish line.  I absolutely wanted to throw my lungs up.  My legs felt like jelly and I thought that any moment, one would trip the other into some twisted mess of asynchronism and concrete.  I could've sworn that the finish line seemed farther.  The feet were heavily slowing down and Chips was a few paces ahead of me.  Why are you running!?! I'd pant out. At some point, he just took my hand and semi-dragged me back to a decent pace.

Upon crossing the finish line, I couldn't decide if I had that infamous running high.  Was too exhausted for words.  One thing was for sure though, the high was very much with the hubby.  He threw me up in the air with a giant bear hug, practically yelling out that he was so proud of me.  Repeat 10 times (at least).  He's short of declaring me his running project, analyzed me as not a long-distance runner, and I'm willing to bet he's already got a training plan in his head to make me some 3k or 5k competitive runner.  At that moment, I really didn't care.  I just wanted to put my legs up and hibernate.

Though I wouldn't deny that I was actually happy.  Sweaty.  But happy.

Official time: 00:21:41.  Yey, us!


Contrast in logic and reason.

From the hubby's facebook page status: after running a 10km race this morning, i saw some runners with pints of haagen dazs. I ask some a volunteer where to get some and she says its only for the 21km runners. I said, wait a bit, i'll run another 11km...

I on the other hand, would just go out and buy the damn pint.
 

better than any medal


Dear The North Face,

Thank you for giving my husband this wonderful plaque.  He couldn't stop smiling yesterday.  Much so that he was actually quite happy with the dinner I served him, which was four pieces of reheated spam. 

We have yet to identify where to display this piece.  Right now it's on our living room table, right beside the flatscreen's remote control.  There's no denying, it holds a very important place in our hearts.

Best regards and 'till the next TNF100.

if he's hooked, he's hooked.

And there's no stopping it.
Even if he's injured, limping, and twisted in incomprehensible levels of pain.

Trust me.
top