MANILA, Philippines - When I first heard about the epic 250-km. race from my manager, I couldn’t sleep. I knew I needed to be there and be part of that team. I mulled, lingered, charmed and bugged them until I was officially part of the team. I would’ve done anything, even trading my best running shoes, just to be there. But my elation was not shared by many. As soon as I told friends and family that I was to run 250 kms. with nine other runners, I received a spectrum of reactions: stares, laughter, choking, snickering and more. A lot of them thought I was crazy and this one takes home the cake.
As race day came, my excitement mixed with my anxiety. Could I run almost 30 kms. in two days? Could I run it with little practice and finish with a respectable time? Would I make my team proud? Like what they say, it all starts with believing and taking the first step. So we ran and ran and ran. We found ourselves running at very odd hours — sunrise, noon, sundown, night, dawn, 40 hours of non-stop knee grinding. We learned to love our new friends — muscle pains, cramps, dehydration, exhaustion, not to mention donut and pizza withdrawal symptoms. We ran through the pedicured and tree-lined roads of Subic, the rolling asphalt hills of Bataan, the murderous climb to Mt. Samat, the dangerous descent and the scorching highways of Zambales. We ran for hours at a time, not knowing where the next checkpoint was going to be. One of the legs I ran started at 1 a.m. in the jungle areas of Subic with only a headlamp. I guess what kept me going fast was the fear that a lady in white would grab my shoulder and ask, “Whatcha doing?” My other legs were at noon. It was like running in the desert and my mouth and body were literally parched and burning. Some people reported seeing black spots in their vision. I was literally an inch away from quitting.
So, why did we do this?
The whole event — two days of non-stop challenge for 10 runners in two vans covering 250 kms. (and, oh, did I mention it was two days without formal bathroom privileges?) was really fun! The shared experience, hardships and victories can really build up a team. The people we met in the race, organizers, members of other teams, nameless friends and comrades we gained, the smiles you give and get along the race magically give you plus two on your power points. Receiving a high-five from another team, or a simple gesture of sharing much needed water, food or just words of encouragement with other runners are priceless and eventually show the true meaning of sportsmanship. Finally, the chance, too, of interacting with the locals, in-between legs, is a blessing.
We often find ourselves amid a valley, a mountainside overlooking the ocean or in the middle of a rice field, with the sun rising or setting. For a moment, we forgot the physical pains and declared, “We live for these moments!” It was a Zen-like bliss, surreal at times, a communion of thoughts and emotions. Truly, a connection with God. All these answered my question.
“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves,” said Edmund Hillary, the first man on Everest. Amen to that.
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The author is a trainer at Teleperformance.