I just arrived from training today when my husband told me the news... Michael Jackson is dead...I gasped in disbelief, trying to comprehend what he said. But then he asked me, why was my reaction so exaggerated?
Let me clarify that part. I was shocked, and my exaggerated reaction was sincere. But Why was my reaction "exaggerated" anyway? He's not a relative, but somehow, all my life, I cannot think of my 33 years without the existence of Michael Jackson, the King of Pop.
Yes, he became infamous for a lot of weird things he had done. But that was always my thing with Mr. Jackson. I could separate his personal life from his professional life. Not that I supported him or defended him, but it was something I could totally ignore, from one end of the pole, here is a "whacko", they say, but the other end, here is truly gifted artist, who touched so many lives and made special memories with his music, who could blow you away with his moonwalk dance and his graceful yet sharp moves, who serenaded us with songs like "I Just Can't Stop Loving You", and of course, "Man In the Mirror", to name a few.
Which makes me feel remorseful in many ways. One, why the heck didn't I watch his concert here when he came to the Philippines?! I had no money back then, I should have borrowed from my sister or something. Stupid me...
Another, his last days on earth were all about bankruptcy, etc. yes, these are things that need to be known, but during his last days here, I did not read any article (not that I was following his life), about anybody honoring him as someone who shared his talent, and yes, made this world a better place (in one way or another).
Makes me realize we are not perfect. That even if we inevitably do bad things, we still have redeeming qualities, talents, etc. I just hope that in this cynical world, we get to show our appreciation for people before it's too late.
To you, Mr. Jackson, with "exaggerated" tears in my eyes, I choose to thank you. Rest in peace...
Friday, June 26, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
It's A New Dawn, It's A New Day, It's A New Life.... And I'm Feeling...Weird?
Just kidding. Of course I'm feeling GOOD! Here are my reasons why....
1. A New Home - By a twist of fate, it looks like we are living near my folks!!! Can't divulge until it's a done deal...
2. Jomac's Running Technique - I have been taking it easy and running only 5.1 k (3 rounds), using the Kenyan Run that Coach Jomac taught me. Running in the drizzle is fun while I try to implement the technique. I noticed that my shins are not as painful... and that my energy is really reserved!! Love it, love it, love it! I just hope my speed gets better...
3. Friends - I' m joining the Buddy Run on July 12 with my best friend, Bru. She's a fast runner and I'm not, but walang choice, walang iwanan. :) Sorry I don't like the singlets, but it's a great way to bond with my bestie best friend. Practice days are elusive since it's been raining. One day, Bru... no worries!
4. Thesis - Haha, yan ang weird... Well, I've been reading, but still, can't find the focus to write everything... but one way or another, I'll get you!
1. A New Home - By a twist of fate, it looks like we are living near my folks!!! Can't divulge until it's a done deal...
2. Jomac's Running Technique - I have been taking it easy and running only 5.1 k (3 rounds), using the Kenyan Run that Coach Jomac taught me. Running in the drizzle is fun while I try to implement the technique. I noticed that my shins are not as painful... and that my energy is really reserved!! Love it, love it, love it! I just hope my speed gets better...
3. Friends - I' m joining the Buddy Run on July 12 with my best friend, Bru. She's a fast runner and I'm not, but walang choice, walang iwanan. :) Sorry I don't like the singlets, but it's a great way to bond with my bestie best friend. Practice days are elusive since it's been raining. One day, Bru... no worries!
4. Thesis - Haha, yan ang weird... Well, I've been reading, but still, can't find the focus to write everything... but one way or another, I'll get you!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Daddy's Day
My dad's not here now. He's in the States with my mom, visiting my sister and her family. And Fathers' Day is not complete without him...
Since he is not here, I decided to write about him. No, not his usual antics, and famous jokes he would share that made him the life of the party. But two memories I cannot ever forget.
I remember one night my dad, sister and I went walking around the village. I was very young then, and like any other active child, I ran while my dad and my sister walked. Unfortunately, I tripped, and this fall caused me a scar for the rest of my life on my left knee. A small circle like a 25 centavo coin. And I remember it was bleeding heavily. The details of that memory I can't remember anymore, but since we were on the opposite end of our village from our house, my dad made a gesture of carrying me while walking back home. I did not break a leg, or pull a muscle. I only fell and got wounded. And I was big enough not to be carried. But still, no matter what, dad chose to carry me...something I thought was not only touching, but an act of sacrifice from his end...
Another memory I have of my dad as a father was when I was small, he would cut my fingernails. He cut them patiently and very well. You see, I was "lucky" enough to inherit his short, stubby fingers, to a point that everyone in my class would tease me and call my fingers chicken lollipops. But those nice moments when he would carefully cut them, I felt proud and happy, and thankful that I did get this quality from him. It was a bond that we both shared. And I loved all those moments.
I have all other nice, and maybe not so nice experiences with my dad. Like any father and daughter relationship, we do have our tampuhan moments, but one thing about my dad is that he is a very patient person. Not just with me, but with my mom as well. He chooses not to take things against people, which is probably why many people are fond of him. I'm really glad now that I have my own child, my dad and I are closer. And I know having a grand daughter is something he considers as a special gift.
Anyway, shocks, I succumb myself into mushiness again. Well, it's father's day after all.
And so, to my Papa, happy fathers' day and I love you very much! --Wekek
Since he is not here, I decided to write about him. No, not his usual antics, and famous jokes he would share that made him the life of the party. But two memories I cannot ever forget.
I remember one night my dad, sister and I went walking around the village. I was very young then, and like any other active child, I ran while my dad and my sister walked. Unfortunately, I tripped, and this fall caused me a scar for the rest of my life on my left knee. A small circle like a 25 centavo coin. And I remember it was bleeding heavily. The details of that memory I can't remember anymore, but since we were on the opposite end of our village from our house, my dad made a gesture of carrying me while walking back home. I did not break a leg, or pull a muscle. I only fell and got wounded. And I was big enough not to be carried. But still, no matter what, dad chose to carry me...something I thought was not only touching, but an act of sacrifice from his end...
Another memory I have of my dad as a father was when I was small, he would cut my fingernails. He cut them patiently and very well. You see, I was "lucky" enough to inherit his short, stubby fingers, to a point that everyone in my class would tease me and call my fingers chicken lollipops. But those nice moments when he would carefully cut them, I felt proud and happy, and thankful that I did get this quality from him. It was a bond that we both shared. And I loved all those moments.
I have all other nice, and maybe not so nice experiences with my dad. Like any father and daughter relationship, we do have our tampuhan moments, but one thing about my dad is that he is a very patient person. Not just with me, but with my mom as well. He chooses not to take things against people, which is probably why many people are fond of him. I'm really glad now that I have my own child, my dad and I are closer. And I know having a grand daughter is something he considers as a special gift.
Anyway, shocks, I succumb myself into mushiness again. Well, it's father's day after all.
And so, to my Papa, happy fathers' day and I love you very much! --Wekek
Who's Your Daddy?!!
Let me honor the father of my child today, my one and only husband, Rod.
Even before he became a dad, he was already called Father. That story, though, will remain among him, me and the rest of the Poveda Batch '94.
Maybe one of these days I will tell that story. But for now, it's Rod, Ava's wonderful dad.
The way I found out I was pregnant was unique. I was having the worst cramps ever. And I asked Rod to take me to the ER, and he did, grumpily. He made up for that after, and committed himself to accompanying me and our baby to ob-gyne visits and lamaze classes.
We did not give birth naturally, but the whole time we were trying, Rod was there, never leaving my side. When I was cut Caesarian section, he was outside, and a cute photograph of him and our round, bloated baby girl was taken.
After knowing Rod for a long time, I knew for a fact that he was not very fond of children. But when Ava was born, his world turned upside down. He looked forward to spending time with our little girl, loves shadow time (when we turn off almost all the lights to condition our daughter to sleep), and now that Ava is learning to talk with sense, he smiles from ear to ear, trying to etch all their "cuento" sessions in his memory.
His cel phone and computer are all about Ava. Ava's pictures, videos, and even Ava's music. It is he who sometimes tries not to forget to buy a VCD of Barney, or who points out things that remind him of his little girl. And I always tease him that his heart melts every time Ava hugs him and kisses him.
Well, mushy as it sounds, I am really thankful for giving Ava a wonderful father. He is not perfect, of course, neither am I, and we have our disagreements regarding how to raise Ava properly. But, one thing is there. His constant love and affection for his precious one.
And I am mighty proud of him.
Even before he became a dad, he was already called Father. That story, though, will remain among him, me and the rest of the Poveda Batch '94.
Maybe one of these days I will tell that story. But for now, it's Rod, Ava's wonderful dad.
The way I found out I was pregnant was unique. I was having the worst cramps ever. And I asked Rod to take me to the ER, and he did, grumpily. He made up for that after, and committed himself to accompanying me and our baby to ob-gyne visits and lamaze classes.
We did not give birth naturally, but the whole time we were trying, Rod was there, never leaving my side. When I was cut Caesarian section, he was outside, and a cute photograph of him and our round, bloated baby girl was taken.
After knowing Rod for a long time, I knew for a fact that he was not very fond of children. But when Ava was born, his world turned upside down. He looked forward to spending time with our little girl, loves shadow time (when we turn off almost all the lights to condition our daughter to sleep), and now that Ava is learning to talk with sense, he smiles from ear to ear, trying to etch all their "cuento" sessions in his memory.
His cel phone and computer are all about Ava. Ava's pictures, videos, and even Ava's music. It is he who sometimes tries not to forget to buy a VCD of Barney, or who points out things that remind him of his little girl. And I always tease him that his heart melts every time Ava hugs him and kisses him.
Well, mushy as it sounds, I am really thankful for giving Ava a wonderful father. He is not perfect, of course, neither am I, and we have our disagreements regarding how to raise Ava properly. But, one thing is there. His constant love and affection for his precious one.
And I am mighty proud of him.
Friday, June 19, 2009
The Big (Jo)Mac
Thank heavens, the rain stopped for today's training!
I excitedly parked at the ULTRA and got ready for my first training ever, with Mr. Macalintal (Jojo, Jomac). We were about 6 runners this morning, 2 of us girls (me and Ivy) and 4 triathletes.
Mr. Jomac was very friendly, but no dilly-dallying with him. We started warming up by swinging our legs side to side, feet flexed. Quite new to me.
He then divided us into two groups, and we girls parted. He laid out what looked like a flimsy ladder, and all our drills were based on those small boxes that ladder created. My group was asked to do two 400 meter rounds, and for some dumb reason I just could not keep up with the guys.
I didn't know Mr. Jomac was observing my footwork, and so he mentioned I need to change my heel strike, and the speed (yes, someone answered my cry of help!) But before we could change my form, drills first.
The drills were really, really crazy hard, but fun! What differed this training from the Nike Running Clinic was that (of course, here you pay and you are not as many), we had to run hitting our glutes, tinikling dance, hop, skip, all confined in the boxes of the ladder. Major coordination challenge for someone like me! Dancers and small feet must have an easier time here. It was major burnout that the ladder of about 3-5 feet and the drills made me lose my breath.
Then, he taught me the basics of the Kenyan run, something like bolting, you run baby steps, but make sure that when you land on your foot, you push it right away. 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4. According to him, I need to strengthen my legs. I followed obediently.
He made me do the baby steps on the ladder, using it as a base for my rounds. Really cool. The pre-existing pains on my shins were slowly disappearing, because I was not using them in the wrong way.
Oh, and my arms. At last, someone showed me the correct way to swing them, arms not swinging from the waist, but up, up on your chest. USE THEM, for God's sake!
The training lasted for about 2 hours.
Hopefully I get to master the technique.
My first long run on Sunday, one whole hour using my baby steps.
I excitedly parked at the ULTRA and got ready for my first training ever, with Mr. Macalintal (Jojo, Jomac). We were about 6 runners this morning, 2 of us girls (me and Ivy) and 4 triathletes.
Mr. Jomac was very friendly, but no dilly-dallying with him. We started warming up by swinging our legs side to side, feet flexed. Quite new to me.
He then divided us into two groups, and we girls parted. He laid out what looked like a flimsy ladder, and all our drills were based on those small boxes that ladder created. My group was asked to do two 400 meter rounds, and for some dumb reason I just could not keep up with the guys.
I didn't know Mr. Jomac was observing my footwork, and so he mentioned I need to change my heel strike, and the speed (yes, someone answered my cry of help!) But before we could change my form, drills first.
The drills were really, really crazy hard, but fun! What differed this training from the Nike Running Clinic was that (of course, here you pay and you are not as many), we had to run hitting our glutes, tinikling dance, hop, skip, all confined in the boxes of the ladder. Major coordination challenge for someone like me! Dancers and small feet must have an easier time here. It was major burnout that the ladder of about 3-5 feet and the drills made me lose my breath.
Then, he taught me the basics of the Kenyan run, something like bolting, you run baby steps, but make sure that when you land on your foot, you push it right away. 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4. According to him, I need to strengthen my legs. I followed obediently.
He made me do the baby steps on the ladder, using it as a base for my rounds. Really cool. The pre-existing pains on my shins were slowly disappearing, because I was not using them in the wrong way.
Oh, and my arms. At last, someone showed me the correct way to swing them, arms not swinging from the waist, but up, up on your chest. USE THEM, for God's sake!
The training lasted for about 2 hours.
Hopefully I get to master the technique.
My first long run on Sunday, one whole hour using my baby steps.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Of Blogs, Runs, and Races
Takbo.ph had a very good point. They conducted a survey recently on how many races do runners join on the average. I am a logged-in member of takbo.ph, but I failed to answer the survey. If I had, I would be in the category of 3-4 races per month.
Which makes me realize, oo nga no, after reading blogs and takbo.ph's reasons for the low number of races joined, they have a point, which now I think is detrimental to my growth as a runner.
Let's remove the cause factor of the races.
I had been joining 10 k races lately, to gain endurance. It all started with Ivy, a former parent in Poveda, fellow Povedan, and a fast runner. She encouraged me to run for endurance. But my training for that is really bad, it turns out, 10k is the longest I have run ever, meaning my race becomes my training ground (inevitably). The 10 k is my LSD, since I have no time to do a longer run in the middle of the week. Which explains my panting, slow movement, lack of training, and knee and calf pains. In other words, these races have become limiting in my growth. Yes, I have gotten faster in terms of Personal Record as more races are joined, but have I become a better runner?
Nope, don't think so. After almost giving up last Sunday.
Sir Jinoe has a point. It's not just the cost (which I agree with, as an unemployed wife and mother who needs to finish her thesis), but there is a very limiting factor in joining races. So what if I had finished the 10k? What happens next? Is it just shorter time, or is it also about building endurance, maybe speed, and improving one's ability to run?
Lately I have been reading the runners' blogs, and it's true, maybe some of them are quite technical, but, I realize that I learn a lot from them. Not just tips on how to be a better runner, but also the passion that they have for the endeavor. Their human side, the struggles. Yes, I am quite far from their progress, I don't even know some of their acronyms. Their mileage makes me dizzy thinking about how I will ever relate to those numbers, but reading their posts, their stories, made me realize that I should not limit myself to only this, a beginner, a jogger, a slow 10k runner, but they give me encouragement as to how to be open to other opportunities to love the sport more, to be better at it. Even to love myself more, not just accepting my limitations and weaknesses, but by embracing and opening those doors to make myself a better me.
Which makes me realize, oo nga no, after reading blogs and takbo.ph's reasons for the low number of races joined, they have a point, which now I think is detrimental to my growth as a runner.
Let's remove the cause factor of the races.
I had been joining 10 k races lately, to gain endurance. It all started with Ivy, a former parent in Poveda, fellow Povedan, and a fast runner. She encouraged me to run for endurance. But my training for that is really bad, it turns out, 10k is the longest I have run ever, meaning my race becomes my training ground (inevitably). The 10 k is my LSD, since I have no time to do a longer run in the middle of the week. Which explains my panting, slow movement, lack of training, and knee and calf pains. In other words, these races have become limiting in my growth. Yes, I have gotten faster in terms of Personal Record as more races are joined, but have I become a better runner?
Nope, don't think so. After almost giving up last Sunday.
Sir Jinoe has a point. It's not just the cost (which I agree with, as an unemployed wife and mother who needs to finish her thesis), but there is a very limiting factor in joining races. So what if I had finished the 10k? What happens next? Is it just shorter time, or is it also about building endurance, maybe speed, and improving one's ability to run?
Lately I have been reading the runners' blogs, and it's true, maybe some of them are quite technical, but, I realize that I learn a lot from them. Not just tips on how to be a better runner, but also the passion that they have for the endeavor. Their human side, the struggles. Yes, I am quite far from their progress, I don't even know some of their acronyms. Their mileage makes me dizzy thinking about how I will ever relate to those numbers, but reading their posts, their stories, made me realize that I should not limit myself to only this, a beginner, a jogger, a slow 10k runner, but they give me encouragement as to how to be open to other opportunities to love the sport more, to be better at it. Even to love myself more, not just accepting my limitations and weaknesses, but by embracing and opening those doors to make myself a better me.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
10 k at PTAA, UP Diliman
It's my first time to run a 10 k in my alma mater. My 5 k runs here were always challenging. I don't know, but maybe because my feet are not of equal length, I could really feel the unevenness of the road. Anyway, the typical Runrio event, a loud emcee, with booths on the side, the works. I warmed up by running around 200 meters, and started to sweat profusely.
Positive Split
When I heard the gun shot, I said to myself I was going to do this fast, and just slow down after the 2nd half of the run. I was running with my former parents from Poveda, Rory and Ivy, they were much faster than I, but at that time we were all on the same speed. Until Ivy soared.
I was still running, imagining myself running fast, until my mizuno bullet water bottle fell from my hydration belt. This startled the runners behind me. I picked it up, losing my momentum, and then my eyeglasses fell. This altogether left me pissed, and frustrated. My positive split plan just became a split altogether.
After gathering my self, I decided to run again. But I tell you, it was just difficult for me to jog even. I lost touch with myself, getting pikon and telling reminding myself why I joined 10 k instead of only 5. I was slowly getting disappointed, watching all the other runners run or even walk past me.
For a long time, I could not recover. I just kept walking, drinking, holding my bottle, restrained. I felt bad because my eyeglasses really broke. (Much to Rod's dismay when he found out). I was thinking in my mind how this might be my last, pushing myself too much for this when I know I cannot excel.
The sad part about the route (which had changed last minute) was that I had no idea how many km's I had already run. I have not been to many races, but I have been to enough to see these posts, saying 4k, 5k, etc. I was kind of depending on them, to strategize my run in a sense that I was going fast in one k, and just take it easy in the other kilometer. Oh well,. So much for that. Following blindly, I walked/jogged till I reached 7 k, letting go of all the ambition to run fast.
Just giving up.
Slow Recovery
Like all episodes in my run, I started getting conscious about my journey. I figured, hey, my playlist was playing slow music, and I had to look for the "inspirational" ones. Well, no fail, Come On Eileen started playing and I started picking up, there at the university avenue, and then U2's All I Want Is You became pretty dramatic but intense. Then at the anti climactic turn, I started talking to myself.
And praying.
Why didn't I notice how beautiful the trees were? And why was I not enjoying this very blessing that God had given me?
Like the Meek Runner (who always inspires me with her humility and appreciation), I offered the last kilometer to God, and just surrendered myself.
And then I started running. Slowly at first, but steadily.
I left all the walking runners and just told myself, I had so much to give, but I will control. Control. Control. Like a long slow distance run that I always enjoy.
Runners, bikers started to occupy the oval. So many of them.
I was so near the finish line when I found myself smiling, almost crying in anticipation....
Ahhh.....finish line.....
The coaches from Nike Running Clinic greeted the finishers. And I was relieved. And happy.
Here's to a new pair of eyeglasses!!!! (I can see Rod's angry face now....)
Positive Split
When I heard the gun shot, I said to myself I was going to do this fast, and just slow down after the 2nd half of the run. I was running with my former parents from Poveda, Rory and Ivy, they were much faster than I, but at that time we were all on the same speed. Until Ivy soared.
I was still running, imagining myself running fast, until my mizuno bullet water bottle fell from my hydration belt. This startled the runners behind me. I picked it up, losing my momentum, and then my eyeglasses fell. This altogether left me pissed, and frustrated. My positive split plan just became a split altogether.
After gathering my self, I decided to run again. But I tell you, it was just difficult for me to jog even. I lost touch with myself, getting pikon and telling reminding myself why I joined 10 k instead of only 5. I was slowly getting disappointed, watching all the other runners run or even walk past me.
For a long time, I could not recover. I just kept walking, drinking, holding my bottle, restrained. I felt bad because my eyeglasses really broke. (Much to Rod's dismay when he found out). I was thinking in my mind how this might be my last, pushing myself too much for this when I know I cannot excel.
The sad part about the route (which had changed last minute) was that I had no idea how many km's I had already run. I have not been to many races, but I have been to enough to see these posts, saying 4k, 5k, etc. I was kind of depending on them, to strategize my run in a sense that I was going fast in one k, and just take it easy in the other kilometer. Oh well,. So much for that. Following blindly, I walked/jogged till I reached 7 k, letting go of all the ambition to run fast.
Just giving up.
Slow Recovery
Like all episodes in my run, I started getting conscious about my journey. I figured, hey, my playlist was playing slow music, and I had to look for the "inspirational" ones. Well, no fail, Come On Eileen started playing and I started picking up, there at the university avenue, and then U2's All I Want Is You became pretty dramatic but intense. Then at the anti climactic turn, I started talking to myself.
And praying.
Why didn't I notice how beautiful the trees were? And why was I not enjoying this very blessing that God had given me?
Like the Meek Runner (who always inspires me with her humility and appreciation), I offered the last kilometer to God, and just surrendered myself.
And then I started running. Slowly at first, but steadily.
I left all the walking runners and just told myself, I had so much to give, but I will control. Control. Control. Like a long slow distance run that I always enjoy.
Runners, bikers started to occupy the oval. So many of them.
I was so near the finish line when I found myself smiling, almost crying in anticipation....
Ahhh.....finish line.....
The coaches from Nike Running Clinic greeted the finishers. And I was relieved. And happy.
Here's to a new pair of eyeglasses!!!! (I can see Rod's angry face now....)
Saturday, June 13, 2009
School Orientation
This morning, my husband, little girl and I attended my daughter's school orientation. My daughter is 2.2 years old, and since she gets bored at home, we decided to enrol her in the school my sister Jus teaches.
Anyway, we brought her along so she could get used to the place. Turns out after 2 hours, she did not want to leave. She loved it so much. I'm just hoping she won't get separation anxiety, or hurt her classmates, or hurt by classmates as well.
So excited for her, and for myself. I am so used to orientations, I used to give them in Poveda, but this time, I am the parent.
As the world turns....
She has a set of uniform already, and a long list of personal items to be brought to school. Hay. It was not so long ago when I was just learning how to breastfeed her, and learning she was a colic baby. Now, for two hours, she leaves me to enter her own world where I play no role in it.
Do all parents feel this way?
Or just the dramatic actress in me?
She is slowly weaning herself from her dede (milk), and now I realize it's me who cannot adjust. Or who is doing it anxiously..
Until when does a parent call her baby "her baby?"
Anyway, this has no coherence whatsoever...
Just random, but valid thoughts...
Friday, June 12, 2009
Mom and Dad's Little Girl
My parents left for the States last Wednesday. I had been putting it off, but now I guess I cannot deny the fact that I miss them. A day never passes that there is no phone call from my mom or dad, or from both. For me or for my little girl. Now the phone hardly rings.
And I miss them terribly.
But I know that they will enjoy their trip because they will be seeing their 3 cutie grandchildren.
Which makes me realize how much I miss my sisters, too.
Oh well. They are just a plane ride away...
And I miss them terribly.
But I know that they will enjoy their trip because they will be seeing their 3 cutie grandchildren.
Which makes me realize how much I miss my sisters, too.
Oh well. They are just a plane ride away...
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Miracles
Yes, the Sisa in me has emerged once again. Just last week, I had my generous share of bitching about my circumstances, about the depressing rain, about where to transfer all the drama the I have always had. (This drives my husband crazy, but between you and me, that is what attracted him to me in the first place...Joke!) Anyway, like a wheel that turns, I am in my up again. And this entry is all about miracles. My fault, even the most minute things that happen in my mundane life is still a miracle, I just dont appreciate them. So, in all humility, I will enumerate those beautiful gifts God has designed for me the past week....
Mizuno Infinity Run. I was so happy to see a sunny Sunday morning. No sign of rain, or drizzle. The road was on the verge of getting dry. And so, I ate my peanut butter sandwich and drank my water and off I went to the Fort.
This time, my 10 k run was much better than my Auto Race Review Run (wherein I was the last runner). I loved running up the Buendia Flyover, seeing nearly a thousand people in groups, or alone, loving the sunshine and the wind kissing our happy faces. I saw a few running celebrities coming back while I was on my way to Makati Avenue, and people started smiling back at me. I guess I was grinning stupidly for no reason at all.
There were happy embarrassing moments, too. I had a former parent who was anxious about her first 10 k, saying she was just going to walk the whole time. I figured her walk was more of a gallop, she finished way ahead of me (nakakahiya, diba?).
I also saw my former boss, who introduced me to Takbo.ph people. He's right, I was so hesitant to join the picture taking, but that's how it starts... Good thing I got to talk to him, since he gave me very helpful advice, which leads me to my second miracle..
Second Wind Store. Although I had a great time at the Mizuno Run, there was something that really bothered me. My 5 month old running shoes. My right toes were already feeling pain due to lack of wiggle room, and I had to adjust my knees to this pain. I walked during the run numerous times, but I guess out of will and joy, I still tried my best to run. But, I knew I had to give up the shoes I had trained with for 5 months. My beautiful Mizuno's . My former boss Rico suggested that I see Mr. Hector Yuzon of Second Wind Store to consult about what shoes would be right for me. And so yesterday, I went with a budget, open to the idea of buying new shoes, just so my feet would not suffer. Mr. Yuzon was very polite (even when he was holding my dirty, worn out running shoes!!), and told me I was wearing shoes that did not support my over pronation (to the unititiated, it just means I run with my feet almost knock-kneed) and so he suggested certain models. After a test run, I went with New Balance 848.
A New Home. The most important of all my miracles I guess is this. My mother in law found a nice place for us, a bungalow a little bit farther than Valle, but the space was a winner. We were initially choosing between this (4 bedroom house 400 square meters) and a 3 bedroom condominium behind my mom's house (130+ square meters). Yes, we will be farther from my mother, but we'll be nearer my mother in law's house. The difference lies on my daughter's happiness. The space the more distant house provided was essential to her, as she is getting quite restless in a shoebox where we now live in. That feeling of uncertainty and homelessness? They disappeared the moment we saw the bungalow. Hopefully we build a happy life in our new place...dream big dreams, maybe have another baby... well, we'll see...
So, there. I guess this time I end things on a positive note! Thank God for all the blessings!
Mizuno Infinity Run. I was so happy to see a sunny Sunday morning. No sign of rain, or drizzle. The road was on the verge of getting dry. And so, I ate my peanut butter sandwich and drank my water and off I went to the Fort.
This time, my 10 k run was much better than my Auto Race Review Run (wherein I was the last runner). I loved running up the Buendia Flyover, seeing nearly a thousand people in groups, or alone, loving the sunshine and the wind kissing our happy faces. I saw a few running celebrities coming back while I was on my way to Makati Avenue, and people started smiling back at me. I guess I was grinning stupidly for no reason at all.
There were happy embarrassing moments, too. I had a former parent who was anxious about her first 10 k, saying she was just going to walk the whole time. I figured her walk was more of a gallop, she finished way ahead of me (nakakahiya, diba?).
I also saw my former boss, who introduced me to Takbo.ph people. He's right, I was so hesitant to join the picture taking, but that's how it starts... Good thing I got to talk to him, since he gave me very helpful advice, which leads me to my second miracle..
Second Wind Store. Although I had a great time at the Mizuno Run, there was something that really bothered me. My 5 month old running shoes. My right toes were already feeling pain due to lack of wiggle room, and I had to adjust my knees to this pain. I walked during the run numerous times, but I guess out of will and joy, I still tried my best to run. But, I knew I had to give up the shoes I had trained with for 5 months. My beautiful Mizuno's . My former boss Rico suggested that I see Mr. Hector Yuzon of Second Wind Store to consult about what shoes would be right for me. And so yesterday, I went with a budget, open to the idea of buying new shoes, just so my feet would not suffer. Mr. Yuzon was very polite (even when he was holding my dirty, worn out running shoes!!), and told me I was wearing shoes that did not support my over pronation (to the unititiated, it just means I run with my feet almost knock-kneed) and so he suggested certain models. After a test run, I went with New Balance 848.
A New Home. The most important of all my miracles I guess is this. My mother in law found a nice place for us, a bungalow a little bit farther than Valle, but the space was a winner. We were initially choosing between this (4 bedroom house 400 square meters) and a 3 bedroom condominium behind my mom's house (130+ square meters). Yes, we will be farther from my mother, but we'll be nearer my mother in law's house. The difference lies on my daughter's happiness. The space the more distant house provided was essential to her, as she is getting quite restless in a shoebox where we now live in. That feeling of uncertainty and homelessness? They disappeared the moment we saw the bungalow. Hopefully we build a happy life in our new place...dream big dreams, maybe have another baby... well, we'll see...
So, there. I guess this time I end things on a positive note! Thank God for all the blessings!
Friday, June 5, 2009
Rain, Rain GO AWAY!!!
I never liked rainy days. They always reminded me of summer about to end, school about to start...a broken heart, and of another quarter of uncertainty. I went back to work in the academe and I started feeling that cycle. Now, I am resigned from work, I can feel the sadness manifest in different forms.
Running for example. Yup I loved running in the rain, but I now get scared. As a wife and mommy, your life is no longer your own. As much as I want me time, there are just so many factors that you lose your grip and let other things take a hold of you. I have a 10k run this Sunday, and so I am literally begging the Lord to spare me from being last again... or just to let me enjoy my Sunday run. I only did around 5 k this week, my fault of course... but still...
And our future. Our land lord has told us to move by July 30, where will we go? It is like first week of school all over again. Meeting new people, going through the motions... so physically and emotionally draining! Argh... I hate emptying boxes only to find no space for their contents... or looking at a place you have loved due to force of habit, and letting it go... like a sad funeral.
Yes, I know... my blog says lets get positive, but there are times that I do succumb to this morose feeling... because these are also the times there is no one who can help me but God, and also I am in my most vulnerable position, and that I get to produce something good after (a blog entry or what have you...). And I guess these moments make you realize how good it is when you are up, and how hard you have worked to reach it...
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Coron, Coron, Coron!!! Part Two
That night, we ate chicken a basket in the restaurant called Old Town. We also ordered spaghetti. And aside from the fact that it takes almost 45 minutes to cook your order, one thing I learned was to bring toys and manipulatives for my (manipulative) daughter. The waiting time did not only upset her, but it upset her father more...
I never mentioned our room in Village Hotel. Since the walls in each room were made of pawid, on the first night, the sound of the TV from our neighbor was blazing that we could not sleep. We politely knocked on their door (with my daughter tagged as my props), and requested if they could lower the volume. One thing about Coron people and visitors is that everybody is courteous and polite. The service people, the boat men, vendors, tricycle drivers, and the guests. Your accommodation is their priority.
Day 3
My husband realized that he had booked one day extra, since he planned to go to the farther islands. But, just so you know, it costs around P3,000 to get to those islands because 1) you will need a bigger boat, and 2) everyone is hesitant due to the strong winds. So with a heavy heart, we just spent the morning of our third day buying souvenirs for our family. My yaya, daughter and I rode the tricycle to get to the souvenir shop, and got ourselves crazy buying wallets, necklaces and bracelets. Not bad the price! I also bought dilis for my parents and kasoy (their number one product). The kasoy was really expensive, but worth it.
We knew better and asked my husband to preorder lunch in our own dining area. When we got there, food was already ready. But Rod said, they survived a mini tempest, the winds blew the table setting and even broke a glass. Anyway, there was something we truly liked about our own Village Restaurant. It has lots of pictures from different journeys, and a chandelier with all the souvenirs from different travels. Really interesting...
After lunch Rod bought a prosperity statue from the souvenir shop in front of our lodge, and a few souvenirs for his family. We also bought a small light house (there are lots of them that they sell). I bought Ava a shirt. That afternoon, my husband and I had merienda in Bistro and their pizza was just wonderful...
That afternoon, we hired a tricycle driver for P250 to take us to the famous Maquinit Hot Springs. It was a 30 minute ride, which we all enjoyed seeing the beautiful view of islands and the calming sight of the blue waters. When we got to the Hot Springs, we saw the same guests we had been seeing in town. Of course, Ava did not like to immerse herself in the water, so she and her yaya just waded in the "kiddie pool". My goodness, the water was H.O.T!! But after a while, you get used to the temperature. TIP: wear slippers or aqua socks. The floor is rocky, and there are sharp edges. Plus, there was so much lumot....:(
We went home all soothed and calmed, and we ordered again from our restaurant and ate so much. After Ava was put to sleep, Rod and I went back to the restaurant for our yummy fruit shakes.
Day Four
We hardly had enough sleep because there was a brown out. And since the walls were so thin, we could over hear a new set of guests (chattering women) from the other room. My husband and I could hear their conversation and we started laughing when we heard one of the women FART OUT LOUD!!!!! Yes, the walls were so thin indeed.
One challenge we had to face in Coron was the rationed water supply. There were times during the night when water supply was down.
Day 4, after eating breakfast of fish, we said good bye to the beautiful town of Coron and headed for Busuanga Airport. We were glad to back home, but we we were also thankful we got to see the beauty and luster of Coron, and Ijust hope that it will not be abused in the future...
I never mentioned our room in Village Hotel. Since the walls in each room were made of pawid, on the first night, the sound of the TV from our neighbor was blazing that we could not sleep. We politely knocked on their door (with my daughter tagged as my props), and requested if they could lower the volume. One thing about Coron people and visitors is that everybody is courteous and polite. The service people, the boat men, vendors, tricycle drivers, and the guests. Your accommodation is their priority.
Day 3
My husband realized that he had booked one day extra, since he planned to go to the farther islands. But, just so you know, it costs around P3,000 to get to those islands because 1) you will need a bigger boat, and 2) everyone is hesitant due to the strong winds. So with a heavy heart, we just spent the morning of our third day buying souvenirs for our family. My yaya, daughter and I rode the tricycle to get to the souvenir shop, and got ourselves crazy buying wallets, necklaces and bracelets. Not bad the price! I also bought dilis for my parents and kasoy (their number one product). The kasoy was really expensive, but worth it.
We knew better and asked my husband to preorder lunch in our own dining area. When we got there, food was already ready. But Rod said, they survived a mini tempest, the winds blew the table setting and even broke a glass. Anyway, there was something we truly liked about our own Village Restaurant. It has lots of pictures from different journeys, and a chandelier with all the souvenirs from different travels. Really interesting...
After lunch Rod bought a prosperity statue from the souvenir shop in front of our lodge, and a few souvenirs for his family. We also bought a small light house (there are lots of them that they sell). I bought Ava a shirt. That afternoon, my husband and I had merienda in Bistro and their pizza was just wonderful...
That afternoon, we hired a tricycle driver for P250 to take us to the famous Maquinit Hot Springs. It was a 30 minute ride, which we all enjoyed seeing the beautiful view of islands and the calming sight of the blue waters. When we got to the Hot Springs, we saw the same guests we had been seeing in town. Of course, Ava did not like to immerse herself in the water, so she and her yaya just waded in the "kiddie pool". My goodness, the water was H.O.T!! But after a while, you get used to the temperature. TIP: wear slippers or aqua socks. The floor is rocky, and there are sharp edges. Plus, there was so much lumot....:(
We went home all soothed and calmed, and we ordered again from our restaurant and ate so much. After Ava was put to sleep, Rod and I went back to the restaurant for our yummy fruit shakes.
Day Four
We hardly had enough sleep because there was a brown out. And since the walls were so thin, we could over hear a new set of guests (chattering women) from the other room. My husband and I could hear their conversation and we started laughing when we heard one of the women FART OUT LOUD!!!!! Yes, the walls were so thin indeed.
One challenge we had to face in Coron was the rationed water supply. There were times during the night when water supply was down.
Day 4, after eating breakfast of fish, we said good bye to the beautiful town of Coron and headed for Busuanga Airport. We were glad to back home, but we we were also thankful we got to see the beauty and luster of Coron, and Ijust hope that it will not be abused in the future...
http://www.flickr.com/photos/avarl/sets/72157616292679412/
Monday, June 1, 2009
Coron, Coron, Coron!!!
Last end of March to beginning of April, my husband gifted my little girl with a trip to Coron, Palawan. It was a few days before she was going to turn two and we wanted to take advantage of her free fare. Because of that, her dad decided to bring her yaya Donna May, who was going to fly for the first time.
Day One
We faced a few obstacles here and there. The first was that I was an idiot to forget my ID. When I realized I had left everything with my mom (including my license), I could see Rod's face already, so so angry. You see, my husband's obsessive compulsive disorder is manifest in traveling. He gets really upset over things that skew from the original plan. This he really considered (me, too) an unnecessary hassle, so he was already frustrated.
Since no one could bring us to the airport, we had to take a taxi. It was a fun ride as Ava fell asleep on the way. When we got to the check in desk, it was a good thing I realized about my ID when I was still in the house, because Rod would have killed me. So I had my license, marriage certificate, Ava's birth certificate, too. And then we were all set.
Our plane was delayed (as always) but when we got to Busuanga Airport, it was pretty scary to land on a place full of mountains. Busuanga Airport was very small, and when I just took a few minutes in the bathroom, we were already the last party.
We rode a van to get to Coron town proper. It was a 40 minute ride, and Ava and I welcomed it as an opportunity to sleep. But I still stole a few moments to look at the beautiful scenery. Trees, mountains, and very few buildings. Until we got to Coron.
My initial reaction towards Coron was that it really reminded me of our province, Zambales. Their pride, the restaurants that were featured in a few travel websites were quite small. Our hotel was Coron Village Hotel, and we had a shabby room with three beds and a bathroom. It was like backpacking 101, but with a nearly two year old toddler.
Rod and I decided to leave Ava and her yaya to take a hike to get to Mt. Tapyas. We took around 720 steps to get to the cross above, and Rod and I were already panting by the time we reached the top. No regrets, since we had the best view of the whole island right before us. And on the other side was a pleasant view of the fields.
That night, we followed the trip advisor's tips and decided to eat in Bistro Coron, a small restaurant that served Western and Italian pizza and beer. Ava was really tired and was having a fit, but we managed to eat yummy food. The thing you have to remember is that it takes at least 30 minutes to cook your order in Coron, and that set up was not appealing to a toddler.
Day two
We had breakfast in our lodge, and it took a long time to be served. I had tocilog and it was okay. We had to prepare for our island tour. Rod already contacted a boat man through his cousin who also hired him previously. The price was P1,500 and we had the whole boat to ourselves. We paid extra P500 for food that they were going to cook and roast.
We met at the market and they had food prepared for us already. It was very challenging to carry Ava to the boat, but by God's grace we got to transfer her there. She refused to wear the vest we bought for her, so the whole time her yaya and I took turns in holding her closely. We on the other hand wore our life vests.
Our first island stop was the Siete Pecados, 7 tiny islands where snorkeling was the recommended activity. The current was crazy due to the strong winds, and so it was just Rod and I who swam. The fish and corrals were BEAUTIFUL!!!!!! The big challenge was trying to use the mask because the water was so strong. I almost panicked because I could not go back to touch the outriggers. But after a while, we went back to the boat and paid an old man who paddled his raft with ease for the "maintenance fee."
Then we got to Cayangan Lake. It was a major challenge to hike up alone, but to carry Ava? My yaya and I were so dismayed. But, knowing it was going to upset my hubby, we tried our best to hike up and go down to the lake. There was a beautiful spot where you had the view of the islands... and it was breathtaking. ...Pictures here and there, then we got to the not-so-salty lake.And my daughter did not want to swim...
I shrugged her off and just enjoyed the water... so soothing for me, but I had to admit it was very deep, and so I had to be careful (though I am fat, I am a sinker)...While my hubby enjoyed snorkeling, I took pictures of the beautiful scenery. We were not alone, around 4-5 groups of adults (yes, we were the only ones who brought a toddler) quite adventurous enjoyed themselves and sat on the rafts.. and I realized that Coron was indeed for the single, adventurous market. Perhaps the market of Boracay but in its old, virgin form.
Thereafter, we ate at one of the huts shrimps (which I almost finished), liempo, a big fish（I forget the name but it was huge!!) and a boatma/carpenter's share of rice. It was yummy and we had a great time. Even Ava was not so fussy, eating liempo and sky flakes.
We could not visit Twin Lagoon since the tide was high, so we went to a small white beach instead. It was called Atwayan beach, and it was quite tiny. Ava still did not want to swim, but we got her portable tent (the "apple house") and her tools (shovel, etc.) The "Hanging Amihan" was pretty strong (it was nearing Holy Week). The problem with that island was that it was so small, the parked boats were about to bump one another. After a while, my family and I settled to go back home.Horror Show
A little sad for not visiting the Twin Lagoon, my husband reluctantly rode the boat as we passed by the Skeleton Wreck. Good thing my daughter was about to take her nap, and so that left me and my husband time to do snorkeling and swim to see the famous ship.
It was pretty interesting that the ship was still visible underwater. According to stories, these ships were sent from Japan to battle during World War II. The wreck, the fish, corrals, they were all just beautiful...
Going back, it was a good thing my baby was asleep, because the winds were so strong, and the waves already entered our boat, which made me and my yaya really hysterical!!! Looking back, one very important lesson learned is that you should always, always wear your life jacket, no matter what!!!
(to be continued)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)