We Run Quezon

Rafael Alberto S. Cepeda

We Run Quezon

“It's at the borders of pain and suffering that the men are separated from the boys.” –Emil Zatopek. Marathons have become a popular event all around the world. Here in the heart of Quezon City, the Quezon City International Marathon was born. This was the first ever event where one of the widest highways in the country will be closed for the event itself. Since it began three years ago, the marathon has become an international success. It’s now a part of the list of  the marathon events in the calendar of the popular running magazine, Runner’s World. The QCIM was made to help promote Quezon City as a premiere sports tourism destination. Having 5 different routes, this event offers a different experience per distance. Having lived in Commonwealth Avenue since the day I was born, this was the perfect opportunity for me to have my first marathon on a place so close to my heart.

Waking up to my alarm clock’s 5^th ring to a dark and chilly morning, I groggily check my phone for the current time. 3o’ clock in the morning, great. It’s race day for the Quezon City international marathon. This happened three years ago when I competed in the 10 kilometer race with my friend. The route would start from the circle all the way to the overpass and back. It’s a daunting task but I was well prepared for it. Days on end I toiled under the midday sun just so I could ready myself for the race. After eating a hearty breakfast, I prepared to leave, bringing along with me my race singlet, snacks, water, and time keeper (a device you knot on the laces of the shoes that records your time as you leave the starting area.) I begin to feel the jitters of race day. The prickle of cold sweat tickling your skin as you mentally prepare yourself for the road ahead is just what I needed to pump myself up.

Driving through the near empty highway, we found the path to the Quezon City Circle bound traffic to be blocked by MMDA cars and patrol men. Lowering the windows I nervously asked the guard if we could go through the blockade since I was a racer anyway. He kindly agrees and lets us pass. During the drive through the long strip of highway, it felt eerily empty as our pickup cruised the usually busy but now empty highway. We finally arrived at our destination. As I stepped out the car, a chilly morning breeze crawled up my spine. I tilt my head up and sniff the fresh air. At long last, Commonwealth, free of traffic and the smell of vehicle smog!

As I look around, I see the eager racers warming up for their respective events. The 42 kilometer race that usually begins first hasn’t started yet. That means I’m a bit too early for my event. Clearly, the real marathoners are preparing their hearts for the gut wrenching distance they have to overcome, but I see no trace of emotion in their faces. The cold, steely stare in their eyes show their determination and eagerness to prevail in their quest. I then realized how much their training must have changed them physically and mentally. Their bodies are trained to withstand gargantuan amounts of pressure and pain. Their minds set to one goal alone. They trained their minds to master the concept of mind over matter. They broke their spirit countless times before to fortify them for the pressures of the race. These aren’t just regular people coming to have a friendly fun run, these are super humans coming to compete and win.

The gun fires and I watch as the 42 kilometer runners dash in front of each other in the hopes of getting a head start of their competitors. Soon, the 21 kilometer racers begin to gather around the starting area. I decided to meet with my friend then. Rainier Uybaretta was over 3 inches taller than me. With longer legs and a more experienced runner I am, I expected to eat his dust at around 30 minutes of the race. We began warming up kicking stones as we ran along the straight gravel path lined with huge trees and street lamps. At around 4:30am, we heard a voice over the mega phone telling the 10 kilometer runners to get ready. It’s time.

I comfortable situated myself in the middle of the crowd. Choosing not to force myself in front of the crowd where the runners are surely competing to get a good spot, I whispered a silent prayer and hoped for the best. Looking around the crowd, I noticed that Rain already elbowed his way through the compact crowd to get closer to the starting line. I scoffed and told myself to forget him and concentrate on my own race. There was an eerie silence as the megaphone told us to get ready. The tension was palpable as we struck our starting pose. Soon after, they aired the gun.

 Feeling the gravel pound beneath my feet is an exhilarating experience. As I feel the wind blowing on my face, I become aware of the people around me. Everyone surges towards the highway to quickly regain their running pace. I stay behind a good fifty meters away from the leaders of the race to catch my breath. Running along the highway is a dream come true for me. Ever since I was a little boy, I wondered what it felt like to run across the highway racing across the lanes like a high speed race car. Soon after though, I was snapped back to reality from my reverie. As I passed the University of the Philippines’ gate I felt my legs going stiff. I thought to myself, 1.5 kilometers in the race and I’m feeling uncomfortable already? This was not a good sign. As the 2.5 kilometer mark passed, I was tired and the only reprieve I had was the water stations along the route. As I reached the 3^rd water station one word crossed my mind, crap. I totally forgot the monstrous flyover climb the 10 kilometer route had. It was an intimidating and heart stopping moment. Summoning all my strength and will, I trudged on despite the daunting task ahead. Pushing with all my might, I propelled myself further and further. I closed my eyes and counted my breaths as I began to lose feeling in both my legs. Before I knew it I managed to reach the even surface of the flyover. I made a sigh of relief as I rolled my strides on my way down. Finally, I made it through the half way point. Another problem struck me as I made my way back to the Circle, the infamous runner’s wall. Most runners will experience this as a feeling of sadness and negativity. It’s your body’s way of saying “Give up, this is pointless anyway.” I was stupefied when I finally reached this point in the race. As a pole-vaulter for the Ateneo High School Track and Field team, I was not used to running long distances over a period of time. This was my fight of flight instinct working, telling me to stop or to keep going. Thankfully, my will power was still intact and I was able to drop the mental weights. I caught my second wind as the Circle came to view. Giving it my last burst of energy, I gave it my all in hopes of making better time. The clocked stopped at 00:57:31. Not bad for a first time 10 kilometer runner.

Tired and exhausted from the race, I retired to my car to catch my breath. Reflecting upon what happened; I realized how changing an hour of running can be. Quezon City hosted one of the most fun and competitive marathons in the Philippines today. It was the most fulfilling experiences one individual could overcome. The site was beautiful and the route amazing. Fatigue soon overcame me. My muscles ached, my legs stiff, and my lower back tight. As I slumped onto my car seat I soon wondered to myself, “When’s the next race?”