42.195

A year ago, never did it cross my mind that I will be running a marathon. I was 80 kg then. I was in bad shape, inside and out.

In four days... The Bull Runner Dream Marathon. I am runner #329.

What is 42.195 km? Let me tell you a story.

Last year was my toughest and craziest ride (this part needs a musical score). Treasured relationships crumbled. Dreams disappeared in thin air just like that. It felt like I was stripped and left alone. Just before I lost my sanity, I found running (though one could argue that it was actually the tipping point, I indeed got crazy). I would hit the road everyday, even day and night, just to get the self-pity and bitter feelings off my head. Long distance running was a catharsis and only a runner would understand what I am saying.

I got to know TBR Dream Marathon from a good friend who ran last year. I have been joining several fun-runs for the past months and the dare came after I ran my 16.8 km. They say that 16 km is the crisis stage of a runner where he/she is at the point of deciding whether to remain as a "fun-runner" or to conquer greater miles, i.e. half or full mary. And so I said, "Yeah, why not?". I took my chances in the marathon/training that sells like pancakes only to be disappointed when the list was released. I wasn't included. After a few days, they announced that they increased the number of "Dreamers" from 500 to 600. My name was in the "chance passengers" list. Boy, I was excited! Then, the six months of training started.

I underestimated the training. It wasn't easy as I thought it was. The (super) long distance part (i.e. 28-32 km runs) of the training gave me cramps and quitting crossed my mind. I started to question my motivations and called myself crazy for trying to put sense in running hours and hours under the scorching heat of the sun or the coldness of the pouring rain (err... that was an exaggeration...it was just a non-stop drizzle, actually). I had those moments when I would feel so sore and can hardly walk after a long run. Three weeks before  March 18, I have to see a doctor because there's a funny feeling in my left thingamajig. The doctor told me to rest and stop any strenuous activity for a period of time. I obediently relented, paused my training and took my meds, afraid that situation may worsen and I won't be able to run.
 
Hilarious as it may sound, I am running my first marathon as a celebration of my sanity. No kidding, I almost lost it. It's almost a year after my "great deluge" and thank God I am now doing alright. Everytime I cross the finish line of the race I am joining, I am reminded of this verse in the Bible that says, "Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize."

Deep down inside me, I know this is not just about running. There's a greater message that God is telling me that I still refuse to take a hold of. During my TBR training, they always say that it's not about how you start but how you finish and I think it speaks so much about life. There are cramps and wall and uphills and downhills. But there's also what they call the second wind, where after a point of exhaustion you find a brand new push to go on and get going. I am thrilled to know that even in marathon, there is such thing as redemption. Yeah, life goes on and there are new and challenging roads to take. I can run. I can walk. But quitting is not going to be an option.

The Red Light


Man's spirit is set on default to hope. Despite all the crazy misfortunes, you try to keep afloat and hope that it's going to be better. Hope... Hope could be very stubborn as it pushes you to keep on. To breathe each gasping breath. To take each limping stride. To grapple in pitch darkness.

But what happens when that final flicker of hope finally dies? When the slap-in-your-face-that-it's-over finally sinks in and the kind of devastation you felt in knowing it the first time is nothing compared to the harrowing agony of your helpless spirit in accepting the reality of it?

How do you makes sense out of all these? How could you even pick up your broken self when all that's in you is the physical energy to live but your spirit is dying? When even desperation decided to give up?

What do you do when the things you know and the things you were told and the things you learned doesn't help to understand why? What do you do when the will left in you is the will to give up?

How can you not stop?

Once upon a Promdi

I have a little secret. It was only in my second year in college (I was 18 at that time) when I first learned to surf the internet. I entered college with zero knowledge on computer. I mean ZERO knowledge. Yeah, I'm Tarzan who is now enjoying the city.

I grew up in one of the poorest (they actually say it's THE poorest) provinces of the Philippines. My eyes grew in wonder like an awed caveman when I first saw the bright light of an electric bulb when I was 7 years old. I watched my first television show when I was nine. Life was so simple back then. We are way behind the latest technology but we are blessed with fresh clean air, stones-throw beaches, fresh seafood, and there's a gold mine in our little town

I passed the entrance exam of one of the universities (the BEST they say) in the country so I got to see a more civilized world. Then I have to confront myself of the reality that computer is going to be an important part of my college life. You could imagine the frustration! I didn't even know how and where to turn it on and off. I used to spend hours and hours of typing just a page of an essay because I didn't know about choosing and adjusting font, doing the margins... you know, those stuff a grade-schooler can chew like a bubble gum. In many instances, I lost my files and start all over again because I didn't know that you actually save them. Yeah, you can call me Tarzan now. Thanks to my kind friends from the small fellowship I was attending who taught me how to use Microsoft Office.

Then the internet. I used to just watch my friends do stuff with the computer. Internet is quite a popular word but I was a complete dumb. Then one frustrating night and nothing to talk to, I mustered my strength, gathered all my courage and went to a computer cafe near the university. Internet here I come... It was just the "e" I thought. That's what my friends usually click! Good thing I can read and I just followed what the screen told me after the clicking the "e".

So yeah, it's a long journey to computer literacy and sometimes I feel embarrassed telling people about it. However, it's also good to take a pause and look back and see how far you've been. Makes you continue with the journey with a fresh wide-eyed anticipation of life's next treats. Who would have known that I have been a hardware support technician for Dell computers? And that the girl I love most would break my heart through Skype?

Yeah, you live and you learn. Tarzan will continue to swing his way amidst the highways and by-ways and skyscraper of life's sweet and bitter surprises.

Dénouement


Paint me white and let me put the hat on
Ink me with a big red smile
I need my colorful suit
I’ll dance with my big red shoes
The show is still on
The crowd still jeers in thrill

Did you feel my grief
As I made you cheer?
Did you just notice?
It was my weeping that made you tickle?

No you didn’t figure
Until I got tired
And the sweat and the tears
Washed-off the amusing lies

Who is in for the act?
Who are the fans?
Are you a friend?
Or you just pay for the fun?

When curtains are closed
When the lights are out
The clown runs
In the dead of the night

1 August 2011

Aninipot

I just came back from an escapist's walk and the house is as stripped as I am empty right now. The waves keep on coming and I have to sail through them... I laid on my bed rewinding the events that had happened to me these past months when I saw a dancing light on my ceiling. A firely. That little light. Flickering and faint. Just like my spirit.

Solitude is a friend and a foe. I am not sure if i have to embrace it but that's what I have right now, and maybe in the coming years. I only have myself. After all the betrayal, lies, broken promises and neglected responsibilities, here I am and I have to keep myself together. I could crumble anytime...

Restart


"The thing about life that I've learned is that you're going to get hurt. You're going to have emotional nights and cry yourself to sleep for hours. You're going to suffer some kind of loss. But you will also have those moments where you heal. Those moments are the best. You feel like you smile for the first time again. You feel like you're alive again. Life just kind of restarts."

got it from here.

Soliloquy

I’m like a spinning top. each revolution per second is a meaningless spin. All my energy is spent and I have to keep up with the motions because I have no choice but to. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know where i’m going. I wanna stop but I can’t… I don’t know how to… neither do I know when to.

You can’t choose your happiness. How do you shift to apples when you like oranges for as long as you can remember? You fool yourself enjoying the crunchy sweet pulp of a dozen of apples when your taste buds crave for just the succulent tangy taste of an orange.  Just one.  There are no substitutes. No, happiness is not a choice. You do know what makes you happy and you pursue it (desperately in most cases) because that’s all you want! May it be the all fleeting and shallow or the deeper higher kind, everyone chase his own happiness.

Common sense tells me to get this over with and move on. Man, if it’s easy to do I’m the first to jump in! But how do i get over? How do I move on? My heart beats for just one reason — for just one person. For her who left me broken and crushed… but my shattered pieces are stubborn and they refuse to falter. In coherent hurting voice they cry for just one name. Just one name…

There are moments I wish that reality isn’t real and this is just a bad dream. I could trade sleeping a million bad dreams just to wake up on the reality I am dreaming… oh if only I can stop dreaming…


4 April 2011

Tumbl'ing

I started a picto-blog in Tumblr (something that I have been wanting to do for a long time now) and I am so happy about it. Go visit and I'm sure you'll like it. Here's a sampler:

Thanks!

Shake the Dust
Anis Mojgani





This is for the fat girls
This is for the little brothers
This is for the schoolyard wimps
For the childhood bullies that tormented them

For the former prom queen
And for the milk crate ball players
For the nighttime cereal eaters and for the retired elderly Wal-Mart store front door greeters
Shake the dust.

This is for the benches and the people sitting upon them.
This is for the bus drivers driving a million broken hymns
And for the men who have to hold down three jobs simply to hold up their children.
For the nighttime schoolers
And for the midnight bike riders trying to fly
Shake the dust.

This is for the two year olds who cannot be understood
because they speak half English and half god
Shake the dust

For the boys with the beautiful, beautiful sisters
Shake the dust
For the girls with those brothers who are going crazy

Those gym class wall flower
And for the 12 year olds that are afraid of taking public showers
For the kid who's always late to class because he forgets the combination to his locker
For the girl who loves somebody else
Shake the dust.

This is for the hard men
Who want love, but know that it won't come
For the ones whose amendments do not stand up for
For the ones who are forgotten
For the ones who are told to speak only when they are spoken to
And then are never spoken to
Speak every time you stand
So that you do not forget yourself
Do not let one moment go by that doesn't remind you
That your heart beats 100 000 times a day
And that there enough gallons of blood
To make everyone of you oceans

Do not settle for letting these waves settle
And for the dust to collect in your veins.
This is for the celibate pedophile who keeps on struggling

For the poetry teachers
And for the people who go on vacations alone
For the sweat that drips of a Mick Jagger singing lips
And for the shaking skirt on Tina Turners shaking hips
And For the heavens, and for the hells through which Tina has lived

This is for the tired and for the dreamers
And for those families that will never be like the Cleavers
With perfectly made dinners, and songs like Wally and the Beaver
This is for the bigots
This is for the sexists
This is for the killers
And for the big house jail sentenced cats becoming redeemers
And for the springtime, that somehow always shows up after every single winter

This is for you,
This is for you.

Make sure that by the time the fisherman returns
You are gone
Because just like the days, I burn at both ends
And everytime I write, everytime I open my eyes
I am cutting out a parts of myself
Just to give them to you.
So shake the dust and take me with you do

For none of this, has ever been for me
All that pushes and pulls
And pushes and pulls
Pushes for you

So grab the world by its clothes pins
And shake it out again, and again
And jump on top and take it for a spin
And when you hop off, shake it again

For this is yours
Make my words worth something
Make this more than just another poem that I write
More than just another night that sits heavy above us all
Walk into it, breathe it in
Let it crash through the halls of your arms
Like the millions of years, of millions of poets
Coursing like blood
Pumping and pushing, making you live

Shaking the dust
So when the world knocks at your front door
Clutch the knob tightly, and open on up
Run forward into its wide spread greeting arms
With your hands before you
Your fingertips trembling
Though they may be

Mia: Minsan nga nai-imagine ko magkausap yung dalawa e kasi para silang magka-holding hands.
Allan: Ohh... Eh anong sinasabi nila sa isa't isa…?
Mia: Hmm, "Masaya ako kasi kasama kita..."
Allan: "Ako rin..." Sabi noong isa sa isa.

(I Miss You Like Crazy, 2010)

i miss you. terribly...

Eulogy

Socorro Capellan-Marcaida.

They said you died a sweet death, I wasn't surprised. Naalaa ko nung huli tayong nagkita, lagi kang kumakanta and you always wear that toothless funny smile -- you were already bedridden by then.

You've always been strong-willed. Imagine a lola traveling alone in her 60's. Ayaw nyo pa ngang subuan ko kayo kahit nahihirapan na kayong umupo 'non. Sabi nyo pa saken "I can manage." E kaya naman pala inglessero din ako. Nakuha ko pala sa inyo.

Hanggang sa mga huling oras nyo, nagbibiro pa daw kayo. That funny look you gave to Tita Bing when she said that she's your prettiest daughter, that would remain a classic. I just confirmed where I get my sense of humor.

Few days before you left, you asked my tita's to prepare you a dress. A white dress. They knew the time was near. Thanks for your creative way of telling us that it was near. And yeah, you looked good in the white dress. Impeccable taste.

The last time we saw each other, you didn't recognize me anymore. Ilang beses tayong nagpakilalanan. Sabi mo alam mong may apo kang si Jun-jun na anak ni Nonoy pero di mo na matandaan ang mukha ko. Naiintindihan ko po. Siguro mas pogi na ako nung nakita nyo ako.

Nagdala ako ng camera nung last kitang binisita. Sabi ko may memory man lang ako, baka last na nga nating pagkikita. Then I decided not to have a picture of us together. That was not the lola I wanna remember. The last kiss you gave me was the sweetest. And you said "I love you," too.

When my tita's told you that you should rest already, you replied, "Sa langit?" And then you just closed your eyes. Sweet death indeed.

I'll sure miss you Lola Sosing...



My little homage to my Lola Sosing. She died two years ago. I wrote this a week after her burial and posted it in my multiply page. 

Internal Breakdown


Halos one month na after matapos ang mango supply chain project namin at andami ko natutunan professionally at, well, academically na din kasi para uli akong nagkaka-crash course araw-araw tungkol sa postharvest at tungkol sa mangga. Then I thought, ano naman ang natutunan ko on a personal level. Ibig kong sabihin, yung mga sinasabi nating lessons in life. Happily, meron naman pala.

Backgrounder muna. Two most common postharvest diseases ng mangga ay stem-end rot at anthracnose. Yun yung nakikita nyong itim-itim na parang dalmatian spots sa mangga kapag nahihinog na. Isang solution dito ang hot-water treatment. Ang ginagawa dito ay nilulubog ang mangga sa mainit na tubig (48-55ºC) at a certain period of time at macocontrol na ang dalawang postharvest diseases na binanggit ko ng up to 100%.

Ngayon may problema. Kapag ang mangga ay hinarvest ng immature at dumaan sa hot water treatment. Nagkakaroon ng defect ang laman ng mangga. Ganito itsura nya:

Internal breakdown ang tawag dito. Ang pangit diba? Pero kung titingnan mo yan ng hindi pa "na-babaak" (like divide it into two, you know, dalawa), yung intact pa si ripe mango, normal na normal ang itsura, mukhang masarap kainin.

Two lessons learned:

Una, don't take things (and people na din) at face value. Ang maturity ay makikita sa mga "breaking" situations. Dun mari-reveal what we really are made of.

Pangalawa, hindi dapat ipinipilit ang mga bagay-bagay kapag hindi pa panahon kasi panget ang kinalalabasan. Nasisira ang magandang design.

I tenkyu. Bow!



Scavenged from multiply.com, posted it there 18 July 2008. 

Retrospect


I haven't been using multiply.com for a long time and i decided to pay a visit. I realized that my it is now a lonely planet since facebook took over my virtual social life. I scavenged through my old files (which also reminded me of many good old memories as i recalled the stories behind the posts). I found some worth-sharing so decided to put them in this blog. I might not be posting stuff in multiply anymore since most, if not all, of my friends already "migrated" to facebook.

If it interests you, click the picture below to visit my multiply page.

Dada


I missed the typhoon in Los Baños. I was in Pampanga last night to attend a ministry activity there. Except for the heavy downpour, which is becoming normal nowadays, it was just a normal wet weather there.

I am not going to talk about typhoon Basyang today, you'll read it in the news. I just wanna share how I was blessed with the conversation that I had last night with one of my best brothers in the ministry. We talked until 2:00 AM sharing about what the Lord has been doing in our lives recently and how are we doing in our walk with God. His is a more exciting one. He shared his devotional notes with me (he said I was the first time that he shared his notes to somebody else) and I, too was thrilled with how clear and consistent the Lord is speaking to him lately about some promises and admonitions. We shared prayer requests (amidst the blackout) and we ended praying for one another (which we usually do) before we retired. One of his prayer requests was to buy a new motorbike.

I just realized how blessed I am for having Godly friends like Da. One whom you won't hesitate to open your life with and whom you won't be ashamed to accept rebuke from. Friends whom you can share your frailties and joys and the nonsense things. Forging such kind of bond with other guys is rare as we are more keen in keeping our emotions and vulnerabilities to ourselves. We dare not to expose them because it's a sign of weakness. But that's not necessarily true. Sometimes, admitting that you are weak and vulnerable is a display of bravery and humility and honesty. And those are virtuous traits.

Drought


“Leave here, turn eastward and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan. You will drink from the brook, and I have ordered the ravense to feed you there.” (1 Kings 17:3-4)

While it's true that the Lord lets the sun shine for both the good and evil, He however grants special favor to His children.

It was a time when the Israelite's rebellion and wickedness went over the top and the Lord decided to teach them a lesson. There will be a long famine in the land but the faithful Elijah, He spared.

The passage reminded me of few things. That amidst the spiritual drought in this world, the Lord sets His children apart and he provides their needs, even in the most unconventional way possible.

Elijah practically received a special treatment from the Lord that he lacked nothing. He was provided Kerith Ravine as shelter and when everyone else craved for water, Elijah drank from the brook. Unlimited supply, at that. And ravens, yes ravens, provided Elijah with food day and night! Elijah had meat and bread. And let me say it again, from ravens!

It's just amazing how God takes care of his children. He provides all the means. Yes, ALL! And that includes the impossible and the inconceivable ways that man's limited mind can think of.

I praise the Lord for bringing me to this passage this morning. It was very timely when after a spiritual high, I noticed that I am heading to a spiritual drought. By drought, I mean I am at the point where I am craving for continuous intimacy with God... where my faithfulness to Him seems to be faltering. I made a few bumps just recently but I thank the Holy Spirit's constant reminder for me to persevere. Thus, His Word for me today is just what I needed and I praise the Lord for His encouragement. And yeah, special favor.



*Notes from my morning devotional today in 1 Kings 17:1-5.

B+

It was my first time to donate blood last Thursday. The thought that a tube will be inserted in my vein to draw blood scared the crap out of me. I tried to build rapport and joke with the nurses who evaluated my fitness to donated blood so as to divert my nervousness. It took about 15 minutes to draw 450 cc of blood in my system. There is a slight pain but it was manageable and the bleeder was friendly.

Speaking of bleeder, the lady nurse handed me a sort of donation card attesting that I gave out blood. In the card was my name, the volume of blood I donated and the name of the bleeder, which reminded me of someone.

By the way, my blood type is B+.

Attention Deficit

Why do people seem to be turning their backs on me? Or perhaps I just don't get the attention that I am expecting. I could be very-self centered, you know. Maybe I just had a bad day or something.

I'm afraid that some insecurities are surfacing again. I think I have been fine the past weeks -- my relationship with God and with people and work has been a real treat. Until some inner tigers start to crouch. Emotions are really unreliable and they should always be confronted by the truth.

On the other hand, I think the Lord is also teaching me to learn to be fully secured in Him. That people are just fleeting source of happiness and encouragement. Expectations can wear a person out but God's word and promises are a source of encouragement. 

I'm blogging again. :)

I have never been so screwed... it's awful.