My Fun Run

When I arrived in Cebu, one of the first things my sister-in -law told me was that she signed us up for a fun run 5k. Running is fun? I think of running as more of low key torture. My sister-in -law is very fit, so I was immediately worried. Plus, I hadn’t packed running shoes., but instead of begging off, I took myself to the mall.

Malls are still a thing in the Philippines. There are quite a few in Cebu, huge, high tower malls, with all kinds of stores, restaurants, movie theaters, skating rinks, even chapels. Think about the mall in the movie Fast Times at Ridgemont High, then supersize it by four or five. The malls are teeming with people too; I have always loved the mall, so it really brought me back to a different era of my life. I bought a pair of running shoes, and figured I was as ready as I could be.

The night before the race, the rain started. I kinda hoped for a typhoon, but then immediately felt bad about that. There is a lot of ramshackle housing built out of scrap iron and wood and plastic sheeting. I am not sure how the housing holds up in a bad storm. I have glimpsed little babies and old, old men and women in those spaces. It really puts a different perspective to hurricanes and typhoons when you clearly see the devastation one could cause. Again I was struck by the stark contrast of wealth and poverty living side by side. On one hand, I am thinking about running a silly race in the rain, and at the same time, there are thousands of people sleeping in the rain.

The race had different lengths, much like in the US with marathons, half-marathons, etc. The big difference is all the races start in the middle of the night. Two o’clock. Four o’clock. And 16,000 people were running. I know there are bigger marathons, but this an island country, the roads are two lanes and there are zero wide open spaces. At night, traffic slows down, and runners can be safer. Even so, the space for runners is narrow and the queue up to the starting gate was a very tight one. Most people were laughing and joking and taking pictures. A band was rocking out and I felt like I was at a party.

When we actually started the race, running more than a jog was hard, because of all the people to weave past. But we ran towards the ocean and in the lifting morning light, the view was stunning. I felt strong and realized I could run the whole race and not die. When I crossed the finish line, I got a medal. It was big and heavy and it made me feel proud. Not so much pride at finishing a race, but pride that I could say yes to a new experience and feel the joy and exhilaration of accomplishment and fellowship. I totally understand fun run now; I can see how it could might even become a thing.