Because every runner is different.
- Adidas
- Adidas
Despite the initial disappointment over the race kit distribution, the recently held adidas King of the Road went well and met expectations. It started on time, there were enough hydration stations and bananas (yep, lots of it!), and the route was just the right combination of flat and uphill roads. There was even a smattering of groups cheering the runners on along the way, holding up placards with (supposed to be) encouraging words (if you bother to read them), and a band or two. A finisher’s medal and some giveaways (like the bags in the past) would have made it perfect!
I woke up very early that day (I am never late to races!), knowing that in the boondocks of Montalban, Rizal, public utility vehicles are rare in the dead hours of the night. By 3am, I was already waiting by the shed, and I was lucky enough to get a ride 30 minutes later. I arrived in Fort Bonifacio just before 5am, with plenty of time to spare. I even tried to catch a nap, but I was worried I would sleep through the race so I walked around and stretched instead.
Adidas’s sponsors provided free bread and coffee, but I refrained from getting some, knowing that I would have an upset stomach if I ate so close to race time. I was amazed that a lot of runners did eat and drink, but they probably had better constitution than me (and more willing to stop running to go to the loo!).
When the starting gun was fired at exactly 5am, the runners started slow. One guy dashed in front, and the old timers behind me laughed and said that he would run out of air way before the finish line. Running alone, I amused myself by looking at the shoutouts that some had tacked on their backs. The guy in front of me had written: “Running after her love.” Others said: “21k virgin,” “You will reach the finish line, promise!” “No overtaking,” and “Running for my wife and Thanya.” Mine was more serious: “The road is open. Keep on running!” but I intended it for those who were slower than me.
Along Buendia, just before Malugay St., I was joined by a guy who was madaldal (talkative) enough for both of us. It was good that he was satisfied with my occasional responses, as I was not planning to lose my momentum by chatting. He kept pace with me and commented on anything and everything, from the ages of the older runners to the merits of salt packets being handed out (he took a lot and gave me some). He told me that should I have the cramps, I should take salt; I told him that I usually do not get cramps in this distance.
When I asked him what his target finish time was, I could not help but be amused when he said 2 hours. I told him that if he intended to run at my pace, the earliest he would get to the finish line is at 2 hours and 30 minutes. Then he told me that it was his first 21k (go figure!), and he had just started running a few months ago. He was running the KOTR because his boss dared him to and he wanted to prove that he could do it. During the run, he kept on looking for his boss among the runners and only stopped when we joined the throng running the 10k.
Despite being obviously fatigued by the sloping terrain along Lawton and 5th Avenues, my running buddy kept even with me, even having the energy to prattle on about what we saw on the road, and (half?) kidding that he wanted to take the jeepney/tricycle back to The Fort.
However, just after the turn at Bayani Road, maybe around km 16, he dropped off. He was a pleasant distraction and I was sorry to leave him behind, but by then, I already had my second wind and was raring to continue. The up/downhill route might have been a bane for him, but it did not bother me so much, as I was used to running in the sloping terrain of Montalban.
At km 17, an older guy joined me and we kept pace perfectly. I could almost hear the silent 1, 2, 3, 4 marching count between us! I was prepared for us to reach the finish line in silence, but after a few minutes, he volunteered that he aimed to do better in the KOTR than in the 21k QCIM, as he had finished at 2:40 then (I finished at 2:36). At our pace, I told him that we would definitely do better. To my disappointment, though, he dropped off at km 19 and I was again left on my own.
When I reached the finish line, I was surprised to find that I still felt good. My Timex said 2:31, and even though I had not set a personal record, I had to admit that it was my best race in a long time.
