I just couldn’t say no to Rob Sargan, our former team captain. Even if the newly-launched A Runner’s Circle shop is in far-away Roxas Boulevard, I just had to see the flamboyant jack-of-all-trades in action.
I left the house at a little past 7 in the morning. Since it was Saturday, traffic was remarkably light, by Metro Manila standards at least. I got to Aloha Hotel by around 8:00 AM. By that time, the ceremonial 5k (one of the store guys revealed that they actually ran 6k!) was long since done with. I missed the street party-like atmosphere (according to the same store guy), as well as familiar faces in the likes of the current Ateneo Track & Field Team and 100m hurdle National Record holder Sheena Atilano, the poster girl of ARC Manila.
Since Rob was quite pre-occupied explaining the intricacies of shoe customization, pronation and running basics, I talked a bit to Kulitrunner (whom I met for the first time the previous night). It turned out that I missed The Bullrunner herself by a good ten minutes! I’ve been wanting to meet the Bullrunner for the longest time, since her blog was one of the main driving forces of my track & field comeback.
The store was attractively cozy. The predominantly red motif made me want to pick up my running shoes (spikes, actually) and start running (hurdling!). The shelves were stacked with Asics, Mizuno and Brooks running shoes. I was actually surprised to see the latter since the Brooks brand hasn’t gained a foothold in Philippine shores yet. As an Asics fan myself, I found the ARC shirts pretty attractive, if not catchy because of the fiery color scheme.
I wasn’t really keen on the specific model names of the running shoes. Since I’m at the cusp of my professional life, I make it a point to buy the cheapest big-name shoes possible. I rarely go beyond Php 2,500 beyond each pair of running shoes. Judging from the looks of those fancy footwear, I had a strong feeling that the prices go beyond Php 5,000 – way beyond my budget!
This is the first time I’ve been to a specialty running store. I buy all of my kicks from department stores, sports shops and outlet stores. The store attendants in the aforesaid places are barely knowledgeable about the products they sell (Who can blame them? Most are poorly-paid, under-employed contractuals). I do not go beyond asking whether a particular pair is a cross-trainer or a running shoe.
The guys behind ARC Manila are way different. I can sense the deep passion they have for running. I was particularly impressed by the breadth of Rob’s knowledge when it comes to choosing a shoe and explaining the basic biomechanics of running.
I’d love to see ARC Manila bring in track & field spikes and specialty compression/cycling shorts. The aforesaid items are rare commodities in local stores. I don’t mind coughing out much cash for the latest high-end Asics Lite-ning or those spunky-looking Adidas Techfit compression shorts.
Indeed, setting up the store at the heart of the real Manila does wonders for the ambiance. As a Makati office rat who lives in Quezon City, a rare trip to Roxas Boulevard is a highlight in itself.
I wish the best to Rob and to the ARC Manila shop. Godspeed!
Since it’s Unigames time again, allow me to resurrect another one of my old entries. I wrote this piece during the dark months after UAAP 70. I was then unemployed and had lots of free time. I was still dealing with my ignominious UAAP exit; I wrote quite a lot of entries in an effort to face reality head on.
Good luck to the Ateneo Men’s and Women’s Track & Field Teams! Bring home the bacon!
The sun shone brightly. It was a perfect Negros afternoon.The final heat of the 110m high hurdles was about to start, but I was on the stands videotaping an event wherein I wanted so badly to run.
A day earlier, I faltered in the qualifying heat, clocking a measly 17.9s, way slower than my then-PB of 16.9s. I was a sophomore back then and my warm-up routine was not yet refined. Furthermore, my hurdling fundamentals were built upon shaky ground. I was entered as a late replacement for Tim Robles (who instead focused on the upcoming 400m dash final) in the 4x100m relay. I ran my leg superbly, but ultimately, the quartet wound up with a 4th place finish.
Still tired from the relay, my hurdling warm-up proved ineffective. I got out of the blocks slower than usual, floated over each barrier and sprinted lackadaisically in between each hurdle. It was supposed to be my breakout race, after breaking the 17-second barrier for the first time. I was devastated. I sobbed at the dugout and vowed there and then that I shall have my redemption.
The same feeling pretty much summed up the emotions of the men’s team. We came to Bacolod with the intention of actually winning something, but wound up with virtually nothing but two measly 4th place finishes. Despite the best of our efforts in training and in competition, we were simply outclassed.
Two years later, the team was back in Bacolod for Unigames 2006. Things were different. It was a strong and vicious team. The greenhorns were now battle-hardened veterans.
Unigames 2006 was the very first podium finish for the men’s team. Nearly everyone brought home medals. The performances of Rob Sargan and Ryan Dalman were inspiring. And the supporting cast gave ample support.
My experience was bittersweet. Bitter, because I could have done better if I didn’t get sick or got carried away by matters of the heart. Sweet, because I finally had my redemption.
A few days before the qualifying heat, I was already feeling the initial effects of an upcoming tonsillitis case. My throat felt itchy, my body burning with fever. My condition deteriorated. In fact, the night before the race, I was wrapped up in mountains of clothing and blankets to stay warm. I even turned off the air-conditioning in our room because of the unbearable cold, much to the chagrin of my roommates!
I was in disbelief at the unfortunate turn of events. I was nearing the peak of my collegiate career. I was aggressive and deeply inspired, eager to finally make up for that disaster two years ago. This was yet another case of my out-of-town competition jinx.*
But through a lot of prayers (and due to my mom’s concoction of calamansi and virgin honey), I felt a lot better in the morning. The fever had subsided and I actually felt great.
That time around, my warm-up routine was solid and effective. I was focused on the task at hand. Nothing could have shaken me from my fearsome determination to run the perfect race. I felt unusually fast before the heats. I felt so pumped up. My legs were raring to go. After my warm-up sprints over three flights of hurdles, I pumped my fists with glee. I liked what I felt. I was a very dangerous man back then.
I was slated to run in the first heat. The USPF athlete beside me, the National Junior Champion and the PRISAA champion, got out of the blocks early; hence, a yellow card was charged to the entire field. I was in for a great battle, I told myself. I love going head-to-head against strong sprinters despite my dearth of speed.
Evenly-matched (Photo from Charles Banez)
My start was quite good as the USPF athlete’s [Harren Millendez edged out my teammate Mike Mendoza during the 2006 Nationals] lead was a mere 1/4 of a step. As I cleared more hurdles, I felt my engine change into higher gear. I ate up his lead gradually. By the 7th hurdle, we were sprinting abreast. His speed was no match for my quick clearing. As soon as I sprinted over the last hurdle, I was somehow amazed at finishing ahead of everybody. It was surreal.
Frankly speaking I was not used to this. I sprinted the last 14.02m to the finish line in a blistering pace, diving emphatically to the tape.
15.2s! A new PB! (Photo from Charles Banez)
I ran a then personal best: 15.2s. As I went back to get my stuff, I was nodding my head and pumping my fist in self-adulation.
I could not seem to duplicate the same degree of intensity in the final heat the next day. Perhaps, it was due to the fever, which immediately came back as soon as the events of the first day ended. I finished a far third behind Orlando Soriano and Gabriel Quezada, with a fairly average 15.6 clocking [still ahead of a fast-finishing Mike Mendoza – the future 3-time UAAP gold medalist!].
Nevertheless, I was smiling at the finish line. I just ran in the finals despite being ill; I won’t be going home empty-handed.
P.S.
Soriano and Quezada appeared at the Inquirer sports pages the day after. A good 2/3 of my body was included in the photo too!
Partially-hidden! (Photo from Maita Mendoza)
* – I ALWAYS get ill (In my first Unigames in 2003, I was stricken with asthma and fever. In Baguio 2005, I was down with fever and asthma and in Nationals 2006 in Nueva Ecija, stomach flu and fever).
I wrote the following piece more than five years ago. I was a college junior back then. The memories of the team’s last place finish during my rookie year was still fresh. The team was in the midst of an upheaval. We were dead set on a single goal of redemption. Everyone was on the same page, as shown by our intense, often-times jovial weekly team meetings.
After finishing dead last in UAAP 66 and fifth place in UAAP 67 (thanks to masteral recruits from the national team), the Men’s Team missed a podium finish by a measly 4.5 points in UAAP 68, thanks then team captain Rob Sargan’s freak pole vault injury.
It was getting late and the team was anxious to get into the bus. However, the chartered G-Liner Bus was nowhere to be found. The Ateneo Track & Field Team was left idle for about half an hour in the dimly lit parking lot of the decades old Rizal Memorial Sports Complex, frozen in an unwanted moment.
The men’s team had just finished last among a field of seven schools. Such was the pallor of the gloom that every single one of my teammates felt embarrassed and helpless, albeit in varying intensities. Even our mightiest champion, Khole dela Cruz, the UAAP Decathlon Gold Medallist, exhibited signs of disappointment. What was the use of winning a gold medal for yourself when you cannot even help your team rise from the ignominy of finishing last, he questioned.
In that parking lot, I sat by myself staring blankly at the passing vehicles, insensitive to the noises of the busy Manila street. I failed to score even a single point by not qualifying for the 110m hurdles final. I could not hold back the pangs of despair, as the tears kept trickling down my face.
When a teammate of mine noticed my silent sobbing, I immediately muttered a hastily made-up excuse and went to the dugouts in search of solace. Walking towards the washroom, I wiped my face dry and dreamt of the moment where Ateneo would once again reign supreme in the college ranks, just like the 1961 NCAA Champion team led by Jorge Ledesma and the late Boogie Pamintuan.
I started those four days of UAAP Track & Field competition as a mere freshman, insulated by a false sense of invincibility. I emerged from the dugouts with wounded pride, ravenously hungry for redemption just like the rest of my contemporaries.
This year’s team is different from the teams of the years past. With a coaching staff composed of national team mainstays, well versed at the modern techniques of the sport, winning depends on the desire of the athlete. Finishing last is out of the question.
During weight training, my teammates and I follow the program to the letter and do extra weights and abdominal workouts afterwards. Such is the competition within the team that each one tries to outdo the other in terms of the weight that is lifted. Whenever one screams “Pagod na ako! (I’m tired!)” from doing the exercises, a teammate nearby will surely answer back “Ano yung narinig ko? (What did I hear?)” in order to push the visibly exhausted teammate to the limit. The one lifting the weight responds by saying “Sarap magbuhat! Hindi pa ako pagod (I love lifting weights! I’m not tired yet!)”
During oval workouts, the same brand of hard work (within the bounds of reasonable training and injury prevention, of course) is highly evident. No matter how difficult the workout, everyone strives to finish it, with the less fatigued ones cracking the usual joke during the lighter moments.
Each time before I race, I always look into the area of the bleachers where the team sits. Doing this gives me a boost of strength – a reaffirmation of purpose. Yes, I run for myself but I also run for my family, for the Alma Mater, for the greater glory of God, and for the bunch of guys wildly cheering my name from the grandstand – friends who wait at the finish line with a much needed bottle of Gatorade.
I am exerting the best of my efforts in pursuit of elusive triumph. When I feel the fangs of fatigue and the urge to simply give up, I picture myself at the end of the 110m High Hurdles finish line, raising my arms in victory. I think of the moment wherein tears of joy and not of helpless despair would slowly fall down my cheeks towards the hallowed track of the Rizal Memorial Track Oval – a moment I dream of day and night.
UAAP 69. December 2006. The 2nd runner-up trophy that felt like a Championship!
Andres Iniesta‘s tribute to the late Dani Jarque is a touching, heartfelt gesture. After scoring the World Cup final’s only goal, Iniesta took off the Spanish team jersey, revealing an undershirt inscribed with the words “Dani Jarque: siempre con nosotros” – Dani Jarque: always with us.
In various sporting events, such actions are common. I recall the Ateneo Blue Eagles taping names of injured teammates to their shirts. The 2005-2006 Ateneo Men’s track team, albeit at a lesser stage, did something similar when then team captain Rob Sargan was sidelined by a freak pole vaulting injury 2 weeks before the UAAP.
Being embroiled in competitive sports for the better part of the last decade, I can say that the fires of athletic struggle and triumph forge the strongest of bonds. My closest friends include my track teammates. Unless one is endowed with prodigious talent, one goes through a spate of valleys and troughs to reach that elusive summit. Men, as social beings, tread this arduous path with fellow men dedicated to the same cause – his teammates.
Iniesta’s post-goal celebration is the ultimate expression of the friendship borne out of the field of competition. Amidst the sheer euphoria of triumph at the world’s biggest stage, Iniesta magnanimously chose to pay tribute to a fallen teammate.
The versatile Rob Sargan is one of the finest student-athletes ever to come out of the Ateneo. Sargan was a top notch college-level decathlete/pole vaulter, in the mold of a C.K. Yang. After his last college competition in 2006, Sargan is still fiercely active in sports, taking part in Ultimate and flag football games. Based in the States, Fil-am (or Feel-Am, as he would rather say!) works for A Runner’s Circle, a specialty running shop in L.A.
1.) How did you get started with track?
I was looking for something productive to do with my life.
2.) What’s the most memorable moment of your track career?
Breaking the Unigames (National University Games) record in Bacolod…and the celebration after.
3.) What’s your life-long dream?
To be happy.
4.) Let’s lighten up a bit! What would you rather wear and why? Short shorts or tights?
Tights. Sexy na, secure pa! (It’s both sexy and secure!)
5.) If you could be a Glee cast member, who will you be? And what song will you sing?
Dude, c’mon….
6.) How I Met Your Mother or F.R.I.E.N.D.S.?
Tough one….I would have to choose F.R.I.E.N.D.S. because HIMYM isn’t as timeless!
And ok fine, fine! to answer the previous question, I’d be that asian dude thats always there in the background.
7.) Favorite movie?
At the time of me writing this, Forgetting Sarah Marshall.
8.) If you could spend the rest of your days at any place in the world, which would you choose?
Under the aurora borealis.
9.) Name three things you just can’t live without.
-Exercise
-Laughter
-Water
10.) Fill in the blanks: I’ll run an ultra marathon just to go out with _________.
A hottie, on a date in a space shuttle orbiting earth for a day. EPIC.
Hurdler49: Hurdling the Real World 