KOTM's finishers' token |
The fact that I was funemployed gave me no excuses not to fly to Luzon and the fact
that I had not participated in any ultra trail race in the country this year
gave me the one big reason to register in the 3rd edition of the King
of the Mountain trail race!
The
road to KOTM
A colleague heard about my resignation and immediately
messaged me about a three-week project in Canyon Woods in Batangas. So, I flew in
from Cebu on the 27th of April. The place was just perfect for my
training. This hilly private residential resort affords chilly fresh air, empty
paved roads and an uninterrupted vista of Taal Lake! On May 1st I
borrowed a friend’s mountain bike. I rode it all the way from Pala-Pala to
Canyon Woods. At first, I was scared of highways so I took the Amadeo route
instead of Aguinaldo Highway. That was my first official ‘padyak’ and it was 50km! Every afternoon I would have my regular
jogs and bike rides in the village. The next weekend I rode the bike down to
Laurel,and I waited for my training buddies Kevin Jauod and Rey Ali in Tanauan,
Batangas. They biked from Dasma up to Tagaytay before joining me down at
Tanauan. We rode around Mt Makiling through Batangas and Laguna before
terminating at Christian Zamora’s carwash in Cavite where I returned the bike.
That 100km bike ride took my ‘highway-phobia’ away! On my third weekend, I was
again joined by Kevin and Uls Buelos for a late afternoon Mt Batulao run. It
started smooth but in the uphill boulder section, my right calf got cramped.
Kevin and Uls were timing me at the junction. Without anyone to assist me, I
was precariously stuck on the 50-degree slope pinching on the jagged surface of
the boulder but I managed to give my leg a little stretch and I moved on…but I
moved cautiously slowly because my aching calves were continually threatening
cramps! It took me about two hours to complete the loop right before darkness
swallowed the mountain.
the hard road to KOTM |
Then my project finished. It was time to
head for Benguet.
I know how thin air can affect one’s
performance so I capitalized on my being funemployed
and found time to acclimatize to high altitude. Kevin happened to be out of work
too so he joined me. A last minute text message came in from an elite runner
and trekking friend Koi Grey. The three of us arrived in Ballay, Kabayan,
Benguet (2100+ masl) late in the afternoon on May 20th. The rain
made us forget about the scorching summer heat of Manila as if the
near-freezing temperature of Ballay was not already enough. We stayed at the
home of the trail running prodigy Josiah Ballagan. We played everything by ear afterwards.
The only plan was to be at high altitude.
funemployment @ >2100masl |
The cold made all three of us lazy to
sneak out of our blankets in the mornings. But we still squeezed in a few
training sessions. On our first day, we climbed a mountain nearby. We were
pounded by rain at the summit (2600+ masl). On our way back, we were dodging
lightning bolts in the midst of the freezing downpour. And the thunderclaps
were like the applause of the gods watching us. It was especially scary for me
as I was always at least 500 meters behind. Josiah, Koi and Kevin were running
effortlessly quick. Kevin would always be the one to stop and wait for me. And
I thought to myself ‘These are the real racers. I’m just a wannabe.’ I was so
demoralized that I resolved to just go to the race venue on the 24th
and get my KOTM shirt and not join the race. On our second training day (May 22nd)
we visited the four lakes in the area. It was a light trek but on our way back
down, the three again showed me how technical downhill run is done. I was
hopelessly trailing behind them ever careful not to get myself injured two days
before the race.
most of the acclimatization was spent on this floor |
Those were the
two physical trainings we did before the race. Outside training sessions, we
were either playing chess, pusoy dos,
or practicing our headstands and other yoga poses. On the 23rd we
headed for the race venue—Kayapa, Nueva Vizcaya!
The
Race
Training
is fruitless without a good night’s sleep
When we got to Kayapa Central, Lendl Reyes,
another Mountain Stride runner, was already waiting for us. He got us bed
spaces at the parish convent. It was very difficult to find accommodation the
day before the race so we settled for the convent basement. During the race
briefing, I saw my Runlaon XL buddy Xerxis Tan. I asked if I could room with
him, to which he readily assented. So instead of the ten-person room in the
parish church, I spent the night in a room with Xerxis and the elite racer
Thumbie Remigio. I was feeling awkward towards Kevin and Koi, but yeah, at
times you gotta make compromises if you wanna give your optimum performance.
A
mystery solved and a handful of newfound friends
The race started at 4 a.m. on the 24th.
Koi and another Mountain Stride runner Rey Ali were there for moral support. There
were 52 runners for the Old Spanish Trail (65km) and 64 runners for the Four
Lakes (100km) at gunstart. I was at the tail of the lead pack during the first
ten kilometers of the race but my calves started sounding the ‘cramp alarm’
when we reached the uphill section. Cramps had always been my obstacle in
races. I had been trying to find a solution to this mystery: from yoga stretches
to electrolyte drinks. But this time I tried the basic one—pure salt. Every
time I was on an uphill section, I would slow down and swallow a pinch of salt.
As I slowed down, Lendl who was also running the 65km distance caught up with
me and soon after Kevin came from behind smiling. He said he started second to
last. He was running the 100km distance while running a fever. When we got to
the downhill section, I did my ‘hobbit run’ and I felt as energized as I was in
the TNF100 Thailand. I sped past a lot of runners including a mountaineer
friend Patrick Aquino until I got to the 17km aid station. I snatched an apple and
gulped down a cup of Gatorade. Kevin followed asking for some tissue. He
started feeling incontinent. I had none to offer him so he had to wait for
Lendl. I went on with my ‘hobbit run’until I caught up with Xerxis and a
newfound buddy Doi, a fellow Waray who was running the 100km distance. Doi and
Xerxis would be my ‘packmates’ during
most of the race. I never saw Kevin and Lendl again in the race. At 3km to the
summit of Mt Ugo (the highest point in the race) we saw Marcelo Bautista
running down with James Tellias just 50 meters behind. The trek to the summit of
Mt Ugo was not really taxing for my muscles and my breathing thanks to my
acclimatization and the spoonful of salt. I was the 17th to get to
the summit, just about a hundred meters behind Reto, the runner from
Switzerland. When we got back to the 17km AS (which was now the 24km AS), I
assisted Doi in refilling his water bladder. As I felt lazy to refill mine, I
went on even though I knew that the next aid station would be 11km away. That
was mistake number one!
A
near-DNF experience
After like 7 kilometers I ran out of
hydration. But I couldn’t be sure with my estimate so I convinced myself to
find some water. As a rule of thumb, you don’t ask for hydration from other
racers. Wait until they decide it’s a life-and-death case for you. Water was
never really a problem for me because during my mountaineering days, I could
sustain long and arduous treks with just 30ml of water. But during the race, I
was still experimenting on my nutrition so I was paranoid that little hydration
might contribute to cramping so it was more of a psychological strain than a
physical one. When I saw a cluster of houses, I told Doi to go ahead. I went to
the houses asking for water but no one was around except for a dog and a
disabled girl who could neither walk nor communicate. I saw the same thing in
my Benguet- LaUnion cross-country trek before—a child suffering from mongolism
is left home alone with a dog while everyone else is farming. I was giving
gestures outside the fence but to no avail. So, fearing that I might agitate
the kid, I went on alone and psychologically thirsty. A few more kilometers
later, I saw another cluster of houses…this time, with people. I was both so
exhausted and excited to go down to the houses that I tripped and twisted my
right ankle. Before I fell and screamed, I heard something close to the sound
of a bone that snapped. I felt a short sharp pain in my ankle. Then panic came!
‘Damn! I’m never gonna walk again. I’m never gonna walk again!’ And in a split second,
like a crumbling stack of dominoes, I imagined the phrases falling. ‘No more trekking’, ‘No more rock climbing’,
‘No more biking’, ‘No more trail running!’ I had never felt tragedy that
intense before! I’m not really sure but I think out of desperation, I said a
little prayer. Then I started feeling my ankle and moving it a bit. There was
movement! I thanked God (I seldom do). Then a man helped me up. He sat me down
and gave me water. Luckily there was a ‘manghihilot’
in the neighborhood. He massaged the affected area and pressed on about five
points around the ankle and I responded with a grimace every time there was
pain. ‘Wag kang mag-alala, wala kang bali.
May naipit lang na ugat’ he reassured me. Then without warning, he gave me
this most painful press on my ankle and twisted my foot inward. I screamed. But
I felt much more comfortable and safer. I thanked him. That was all I could
offer him. ‘Sa Diyos ka magpasalamat ading.’
Then with just a few teeth showing he started laughing and so did everyone
else in the crowd. It was a contagious yet therapeutic laughter so I joined in.
While watching other runners going down the hillside, I took a rest and walked
around for a while feeling happy with my functional ankle. I was ready to
accept my first DNF! Y’see, lack of hydration can lead to other problems even
more serious than dehydration.
I owe my strong finish to this guy |
I
don’t get tired: I just get cramps!
After enough rest, I left the neighbourhood
and joined the other racers. I was on my way to the 35km AS and ready to declare
a DNF. But as I was walking I felt almost no pain in my ankle even when I
started skipping. I tried running and it was fine. I didn’t have to declare a
DNF after all. Then I caught up with Patrick again ‘O, Adonis! Naligaw ka?’ ‘Hindi. Nagpahilot lang’. Then we arrived
at the 35km AS around 9:45. Then I thought to myself, ‘35km in less than 6 hours! I can do an under-12-hours here!’ Xerxis
was already there sitting on a table. ‘O,
akala ko nasa top 4 ka na! San ka galing?’ ‘Nagpahilot lang dun sa mga bahay bahay sandali.’ It was a festive
aid station. Everyone had a story to tell and plenty of food to thank for!
Epoy, Patrick’s pace buddy was also there. He approached me and said ‘Tol okay ang time natin. Number 6 ako. Number
7 ka. Maintain nalang natin yan!’I was hesitant to give any reply other
than a forced nod because I was still undecided whether to continue or to DNF
before injuring my ankle more. Four runners left one by one. First it was Reto,
then the Japanese guy, then Xerxis and then another runner. Then I remembered
Sir Jonnel warning us how aid stations could delay a runner so when the clock
hit 10:00 I invited Epoy to go on but he just said ‘Sige mauna ka na muna!’ It turned out they were still having some
halo-halo made. The very helpful and attentive marshal there kept reminding
every one of us that the next aid station was still 21km away (at Day-ap). So,
learning my lesson from mistake number one I refilled my hydration bladder
before leaving.
This was the most challenging part of the
65km distance. It was a long uphill trek to Amelong-Labeng. The steep ascent
started after crossing the long hanging bridge. It was good for me because my
injury was only affected by downhill movement. The first one I caught up with
was the last runner to leave the 35km AS. Then I went past the Japanese guy…and
then Xerxis. It was here where I learned a very important lesson in
long-distance races—When the going gets tough, move slow but never stop. I
noticed that Xerxis never stopped even though he was struggling to move up. As
for me, the regular salt intake seemed to be working so I kept climbing. My
legs are made for climbing. And unlike many others, I was not gasping for air.
Soon after, I said hello to Reto. When the trail got flat, I started running fast
and when it declined I started running faster. I sustained that speed for about
30 minutes until I caught sight of Doi again. I was relieved to know that I was
in my pack again. But Doi quickly disappeared from view ahead and Reto was nowhere
to be seen behind. I was alone again.
Reto and Doi after we found the trail sign beyond Buaka Lake |
I did
get tired!
I had already gone past two towers and I started
to get impatient so I asked a farmer where Day-ap was. He pointed at the top of
a hill across the valley in front of me and he said it was about three hours
away. I started feeling tired. So I walked again. It was the first time I felt
really exhausted in a run. But I was relieved. I knew what my optimum
performance was. It was from this time on when I kept repeating my short prayer
‘Lord, give me the strength and the fortitude to finish this race!’ Then Reto
came from behind with long strides. I continued dragging my legs and when the
trail reached the road, I felt defeated. I was just purposelessly walking. I
had no idea how long the road section was gonna be. I dread road sections. It
really pays to study the course map beforehand. But to my surprise, I saw a
girl waving her arm not so far away. It was the unexpected Castillo Village AS.
Al, another housemate, was taking a rest there. The marshal said it was already
KM49. I was like given this shot of adrenaline when I heard it. So shortly
after having a sip of the water there, I started climbing up without refilling
my bladder. Mistake number two!
Buaka Lake |
Seven kilometers was way longer than I
estimated. I got exhausted again as we approached Buaka Lake. There were four
of us in the pack now—Al, Doi, Reto and me—all feeling exhausted by the
distance and the heat of the sun. When we found the trail sign after Buaka
Lake, Reto and Doi sped ahead. I kept walking. And it was downhill again. At
the foot of the hill, Al chose to take a rest while the two disappeared in the
thick uphill section in the pine forest. I kept dragging my legs and all of a
sudden, I saw Xerxis and the Japanese guy again running down the slope. Xerxis
was moving with amazing dexterity that in no way resembled his struggle up Amelong-Labeng.
There was no sign of exhaustion on his face and voice. ‘Sa kanan’ he shouted from behind when I entered the wrong
trailhead upwards. The landscape in the final uphill trek to Day-ap was very
inviting. It was chilly and windy but I knew that sitting down would make me
wanna sit longer so I moved on. It was a relief that Xerxis and the Japanese
guy were already with me. I had to break the rule of thumb and asked Xerxis for
water. More than just water, he offered even the chocolate bar in his pack. Yeah,
I’m not gonna deny it: I was a leech to Xerxis that time. Then he told us that
the Day-ap aid station was actually just less than a kilometer away. This news
energized us so we climbed harder. Finally, we arrived at Day-ap! James Tellias
who had DNF’ed due to ITBS was helping the marshals to attend to the weary
runners at the aid station. I ate two morsels of adobo and the peanut butter
sandwich that I had been hallucinating about while I was wearily dragging
myself to this final aid station. All of a sudden the Frenchman leading the
100km distance was back at KM56 (now KM82 for him). Everyone was cheering for
him, excited that he was about to set a new course record. In less than a
minute he was gone again. Xerxis, who was still to travel 44 kilometers
encouraged me to move on. ‘Swerte mo 9km
ka na lang…puro pababa pa.’ I wasted no more time and I bade him goodbye.
After a 4-km downhill run on a dirt road, I reached the highway. And it felt
like I had just began the race. I ran faster than ever in the race until I
arrived at the finish line! It had been a very good performance!
THE
Organizer
I had initially planned to improve my 50km
time last year but because of the lousy organization of last year’s event, I
forewent this year’s TNF100 Ph. I still have two ultra trail marathons coming
up this year but both are outside the country. Checking the local trail running
calendar, I made no scruples in choosing the King of the Mountain. Apart from
the catchy name, it was the organizer and his advocacy for Igorots that gave me
the biggest reason to join the King of the Mountain trail run. KOTM has gained
popularity among local and international trail runners due in large part to the
wisdom of the man behind the event—Frontrunner magazine’s Jonel Mendoza. He is
not backed by big corporate names but each race he organizes delivers more than
what it promises! It leaves no room for whining and a lot of room for
camaraderie and self-fulfilment. What I liked most about the race is that,
you’ll never feel anonymous there. He and his wife will address you on a
first-name basis at least five times at the finish line congratulating you,
attending to your needs and getting to know you more personally. This personal
touch of Sir Jonel runs all the way down to each marshal and member of the
crew. It’s no wonder each and everyone in the race knows him not as ‘the organizer’
but as Sir Jonel. I had earlier resolved to quit running next year but I guess
I’ll have to stall my retirement for a while to make room for another KOTM
run…perhaps a 100-km this time.
Victory
Favors the Prepared...and The Resilient!
I felt victorious not only for my very good
time, but also because I was able to enjoy the trail and made a handful of new
friends. I also felt happy for the success of my friends in the race. Xerxis
finished 11th in the 100km and Thumbie came in 6th
despite his ITBS. Lendl finished 14th in the 65km. But I guess the
most worthy of praise is Kevin. As I mentioned earlier, he was running a fever
during the race. But as Lendl recounted, Kevin waited for him at least five
times to give him moral support and companionship. Lendl broke away after
Amelong-Labeng and just gathered reports about Kevin from other runners. The
last report he got was at Day-ap and it said Kevin was just sitting somewhere
near Castillo Village. We were very worried that he had not arrived at 6am the
following morning but we knew he was a fighter. I would have quit if I were
him. Finally with a raspy voice and a runny nose, he reached the finish line after
almost 27 hours placing 31st among the 64 runners in his category at
the starting line.
Kevin happily eating tuyo after finishing the race |
It has been a very wonderful experience. I
have a lot of people to thank but I guess I’ll just send each reader a message
that finishing a race takes more than just strength and courage! And that a DNF
is never a sign of weakness. Congratulations to all the warriors in the race.