Of Running, Glenda, and Doomsday Prepping

Sungay Road, between Talisay and Tagaytay - Running amid a scene of destruction—in this case, a maze of fallen trees and electric posts—felt surreal. A part of me was thinking, we should probably help out the community in clearing these roadblocks instead of run-walking up this road with weighted packs.

We find ourselves doing this run after saying yes to Romi’s invitation. In preparation for the October Himalayan trip, he suggested we work up our cardio capacity by running uphill carrying a pack with at least a 10-kilogram load. He got Primer/ROX on-board to provide the logistical support; now he needs warm bodies to join him. Luckily, there was a van-load of people from UPM willing to try this out.

Group shot before heading up to Tagaytay

Passing through SLEX, we saw the extent of Typhoon Glenda’s wrath. Countless trees uprooted; some decades old. Roofs crumpled as if opened forcedly by a giant. Cavz was also telling us what he experienced while on duty at his fire station in Plaridel, Quezon (one of the hardest-hit areas by Glenda). At the back of my mind, I shuddered at the thought of a Yolanda-level typhoon passing through the same trajectory. Naturally, the subject of “prepping” (or preparing for disasters) became the dominant topic of the day.

Catching some sleep along SLEX. Thanks to Primer/ROX for the transport!

Signs of Glenda's wrath 

The run would be a short one, at only 7 kilometers. Romi thought of extending it further, in behalf of the ultra-runners.  But there was already some uncertainty on how we’d fare in the current plan, so we decided to play it by ear. Most of us carried the required 10 kilos, made up of water or rice, or any other non-bulky item that would fit a small pack. The aim was to apply stress to our cardio-vascular system and check how we’d perform in an elevated heart rate. Ideally we’d run even on steep incline, but brisk walking will also do, as long as we maintain the heart rate.

Jaja steadily moving along

Brian and his hiking pack

Since the road is winding and now features recently-added obstacles (felled trees and power cables), it’s difficult to stay on just one side, lest you put yourself at risk of getting hit by a car or truck. We had to be alert at all times. 

trees and power lines

I relished the view of Taal Lake, the volcano island, and the faint trace of Mt. Maculot at the other end of the lake (we were there not a week ago). Eventually Pen and Kiko caught up and passed me, despite my attempts to hang on. The problem with carrying weights while running uphill is not only is it heart-busting, it’s also hard for the leg muscles. And since it’s not my intention to die in this wacky event, I have to stay at an acceptable pace. I was also feeling what I feared to be the beginning of a plantar fasciitis in my right foot. Ugh! 

Pen enjoying the view of Taal Lake

Wildman Kiko

Precariously-perched housing project, but with a great view.

It got cooler as we approached the border between Cavite and Batangas. Eventually rained poured down on us. The road was a natural drain. Soon I was treading through a fast stream of rain water. The ripples gave an interesting illusion that I was moving slowly, if moving at all. The water made the road more slippery, making it more difficult to break to a run.

Welcome to Cavite!

The good thing is we were making some progress at finishing this thing. I continued counting down the kilometer posts I passed, marking how much distance remains. The road became less steep and more houses indicated I was getting nearer to the finish line. 

"almost there" selfie

By the time I got to what I assumed was our finish line, Pen and Kiko were already busy stretching and cooling down. They probably got there about 10 minutes ahead of me. The rain has stopped but there was a light breeze that chilled us under our wet clothes. I tried calling our van to come up so we can get into our dry clothes.

As we waited for the rest, the guys who were already there felt the course was a bit short for the effort we put in travelling from Manila. Once Romi arrived, they started shouting at him "was that it?", or something to that effect. The notion of going a bit further was entertained, but ultimately shelved (along with the idea of riding down to Nasugbu and fast-hike Mt. Batulao, sans pack). Pen and Levi suggested next time we run instead up to Maarat via Monterey-AFP, which is closer to home and relatively longer.

With the run behind us, Kerwin took out his weights: two Nalgene bottle-full of beer. Cavz brought out a container-full of freshly cooked bucayo for our pulutan. I ordered a bowl of lomi at the eatery we were sheltering in so we can make use of their toilet to change; aside from the other obvious reasons for buying lomi (I was cold and hungry)

Beer after a run. Best hydration ever!

It was still early when we headed down to Sta. Rosa. The road had the same stormed-out look as the route we ran. The biggest surprise for me was seeing the parking sheds of Paseo torn to shreds by Glenda's winds. I don't know if Glenda was really that strong, or the quality of construction was that poor.

Litterally cut in half

We capped off the day's activity by ingesting more calories than we spent during the run. Bowls of bulalo and various sizzling dishes were ordered, along with a round of beer. The entire thing gone in about six minutes. Throughout all these, and on the ride back home, we've ran through all scenarios that would spell mankind's doom (earthquakes, typhoons, zombie apocalypse, aswang invasion, hell on earth, etc.) and how we'd try to survive them. Maybe it's just me, but I thought we might be better off swallowing a cyanide capsule instead of clinging on to dear life in the midst of the undead.

Gone in six minutes