Condura Run: Hunger Pangs

3AM. I was forcing to gobble a bowl of oatmeal.  The night before, a plateful of pasta, a glass of milk and a couple of bananas were shoved in my system.  It was a risk I brooded over, a high stake of running heavy or worse.  But my experience in three previous races, RUNew, Botak Paa-Bilisan and Ayala Fun Run, made me worried:  hunger pangs at the middle of the race.  I remembered during those races, even when I took breakfasts, my stomach still rumbled while running.  I feared a sudden weakening, system failure or my stomach eating itself… and this was a 21K long run; the bets should be covered.

We arrived at the parking lot at 4:30AM.  Before stretching, I downed a cup of yoghurt, another banana and drank half liter of isotonic drink.  I did not feel bloated.  Perhaps my nervousness was hiding the sensation.  It was exciting at the same time.  My maiden 21K and where best to run it, the Skyway!  Goosebumps appeared and disappeared on my skin as the feeling of anxiousness and calm cycled.  Oh no, it’s neither the cold nor the wind; in fact it was warm and slowly heating up.  All around, runners were equally animated.  The faces vary from smile to laughter to grimness to the determined.

Inside the corral, I was with friends, colleagues, bosses and fellow half-marathoners.  The colors of the day were yellow and black.  The starting arch was back-dropped by the moon in its waning crescent.  Everybody waited.  There was still no sign of upset tummy, very good.  I reviewed my strategy over and over:  6.5min/km pace for the first 3 kms, then intervals of 5.5min/km pace for 4 kms and a kilometer of 7min/km recovery until the end of the race.  That should take me a little over 2 hours and with luck I might be able to quicken here and there and eventually beat it.  Threats of hunger or ill-effects of overeating haunted my reverie with what-ifs scenarios.  “Phak!” the starting gun blared shaking me out of my stupor.

I was running at the target pace and felt light as a feather as I reached the foot of Kalayaan Bridge.  I increased my effort to compensate for the climb to maintain my pace.  I could have increased my pace but held myself; it’s still a long race.  I kept on peering at the sides and enjoyed being on top of EDSA on foot.  Not much of a view but the feeling was still of wonderment.  Ahhh, the skyway should be tenfold as amazing.  I was about to end my warm-up phase as I approached the 3rd kilometer.  I started psyching myself of the more challenging interval phase of my run.  The anticipated backlash of my overindulgence was hovering like a shadow.

The side of Buendia Ave designated for running was bereft of vehicles.  I have to admire the organizers of the arrangement.  Hands down!  Kudos! The motorists and pedestrians were standing still and watched haplessly as the runners invaded the street.  The runners were the Kings-Of-The-Road!

I reached the foot of the Skyway still running strongly.  My belly was not yet complaining.  Maybe I got it right this time about the food intake.  In my plan, I should be easing down to 7min/km.  I checked my pace as I battled the slope.  It was 6min/km.  I tried to slow down. Still 6min/km.  At the top of the slope, it’s still there at 6min/km.  Either my watch conked-out or my legs had a mind of its own.  But wait, there were more slopes ahead.  The runners were like a long snake slithering towards the now shimmering sun.  I started to see runners on the return leg.  These guys were slicing the pavement like butter.  As for me, I really should slow down and conserve my energy.  I forced my legs to slow down and battled the next slope.

The view was truly magnificent.  Beneath us was the stretch of EDSA, roofs of houses, sky scrappers, smog, warts and all.  I savored the heights.  Again we were like kings and queens watching the kingdom below.  If only, I could bring my rickety DSLR, I could have stayed and shoot, and to hell with the time performance.  On hindsight, maybe, I should have; this was a once in a life time opportunity with no guarantee of repeat.  Darn!

I was about to end my recovery period but the slope was still inclining up.  And the pace still read 6km/min.  Stubborn fool, I could run out of juice! I cycled into the fast pace and reached the U-turn seconds after the hour mark.  I was ahead by around 2 minutes of my plan.  It made me more confident.  At this rate, there was an outside chance making the 2 hour time.  I continued my fast pace.  At the end of the 12th kilometer I still felt physically fit and still no hunger, no ailing stomach.  No huffs, no puffs.  Confidence swelling, I could not erase the smile in my face.  I caught up with a friend JI, running with his cousins.  They were targeting a 2 hour finish and were maintaining a pace of 5.5 to 5.8 min/km throughout the race.  He invited me to pace with them.  This would alter my strategy… a little… another gamble for me.  “Surely” I said.

We just left the Skyway when out of the blue, the hunger pangs strike like a sneaky burglar!  My stomach growled loudly that I wondered if my fellow runners heard it.  My focus wavered.  I was contemplating whether to keep up or fall back.  I decided to hold on as much as I can, my attention divided between running, chatting with JI and feeling my body.

When we reached the foot of the Kalayaan Bridge, my chest was pounding and my ears were throbbing.  It was not because of tiredness, it was the hunger gnawing at my nerves.  I was practically running in fear; I might drop out cold without warning.  JI, the strongest among us was shouting encouragement, “Last stretch, let’s go, let’s go!” we were eating the slopes.  “Good pace, good pace, go boys!” JI was egging us.  The downward slope was a short respite.  2 kilometers to the finish and a little over 10 minutes to the 2nd hour, the road turned into a shallow upward gradient but it was looooong.  “Come on boys, we’re almost there” JI pushed.  I was puffing, my lips in a rictus snarl.  I smell and tasted sour sickly gastric juices.  The stomach was definitely angry.  Don’t give up on me now, I was talking to my legs.  At last, I could see the finish line; the band was playing, the people cheering.  My salvation.

I crossed the finish line with time 1:59:05.  Elated, delighted, thankful and relieved.

EPILOGUE
On our way home, my wife and I passed through McDonalds.  I ordered a double-quarter-pounder with cheese sandwich.  I wolfed it in minutes.  I was licking scraps from my finger when I told my wife “I’m still hungry”

She replied “Yuuuuuuuuuck!”

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