Ran my first 5k Race when I turned 50.
5 years later, I dared to attempt my first 50k.
For someone who vowed never to run beyond 5k, it took a tragic incident to trigger the passion and the purpose to run an ultramarathon.
My father and mother never agreed on anything but strangely enough, they were both against my running and joining races. They had a litany of reasons why I should stop “acting like a child”. I argued with them that running was therapeutic for me—much cheaper than engaging with a psychotherapist. They would uselessly worry everytime I join a race but couldn’t do anything to prevent me (their precious unica hija) from leaving the comfort of our home.
Then on November 4, 2012, the unexpected happened. Without any lingering medical illness, Tatay announced out of the blue: “Pagod na ako. Gusto ko ng magpahinga.” And by that he meant to Rest In Peace, not just to take a break.
Fearing for the unknown, I frantically informed his remaining siblings, friends, and relatives to visit him that very day so they could talk to him while he was still with us. He specifically asked for my friend Mimi who is now a renowned gastroenterologist. Mimi rushed to Las Piñas City from Batasan Hills, Quezon City together with Elsa and Malou, all friends from my dearest hometown Marbel, South Cotabato (now Koronadal City). Thanks to them, I saw Tatay very happy!
People close to my father came from near and far to see him. He still cracked jokes and laughed with them until evening. Seeing how delighted he was with the people he loved, we thought Tatay would still be with us for years.
When Mimi examined Tatay in the morning, she was honest enough to warn me that Tatay would be most likely to leave very soon. She said we should be ready for the worst. But how can one be ready to let go of a father or a mother? Inspite of Mimi’s advice, we did not anticipate that after my children and I arrive from the 8:30pm Sunday mass, Tatay would breathe his last.
I used to believe that unrequited love was the most painful of all human experiences.
I was wrong.
The passing away of someone you deeply love digs a hole in your heart that you cannot seem to endure. You would have just wanted to disappear from the face of the earth but choose to hang on because your family needs you to care for them.
Everyday since my father’s untimely demise up to his 1st Death Anniversary, I wore black. Everything from undies, running gear, tennis outfit, house garments, outside clothes, business attire, cocktail dress, long gown, to my sleepwear were dominantly black. For me, black complemented my sorrow and pain.
I worked harder and ran longer but shunned away from any organized race from November 2012 until November 2013. It was my deliberate form of sacrifice to pay respect to my dear Tatay, to send a message that my heart was profusely grieving.
