I don’t think this would come as a surprise to anyone who’s been following this countdown.
It’s the essence of this list.
More importantly, it’s the essence of my year.
If I trace back the beginning of my running era, its roots go back to 2023. That was when I started waking up at around 5:00 a.m. and running roughly five kilometers. I was using my sister’s Huawei Band 4 to record my runs—and if I’m being honest, they weren’t even full runs. They were run-walk sessions: brisk walking for the first kilometer, running for a bit, then walking again when my legs couldn’t manage anymore.
When my sister got her first iPhone and Apple Watch, she handed down her Samsung Watch to me. That became my new running companion. Back then, it took me around 40 to 45 minutes just to finish a 5K.
Running was something my first ex and I shared. He’d run up to 10K in the afternoons as I did mine in the mornings. When we broke up, I lost the motivation to keep going. I wasn’t sleeping well, and waking up early felt impossible.
I tried bringing the habit back briefly in November, then again in December. December 26, to be exact. I remember that day clearly. But that story has already been told here—and it belongs to the past.
In 2024, I bought a Xiaomi Redmi Watch 3 with a quiet intention of reviving my running era. It was also meant to replace the Samsung Watch, which had already broken down.
But I still didn’t run.
Around December, I noticed I had been slowly gaining weight. I attributed it to the lack of physical activity after our dance competition trainings ended.
Then on December 14, a package arrived addressed to Nikki. He asked me to open it, saying it was his Christmas gift for me.
Inside was a Huawei Watch Fit 3.
He remembered a time when we were at a Huawei store in Ayala Malls Manila Bay and I casually mentioned wanting to go back to running. Around the same time, Tita Rosalyn—my father’s wife—gave me an On CloudMonster pair of shoes. I took that gift as a sign.
I didn’t wait for the New Year of 2025 to start a “new me” or revive the “old me.”
On December 18, I did the first run I ever recorded using the watch Nikki gave me.
At the start of 2025, I had the idea of joining the Milo Marathon. I was ecstatic when I found out it would be held in March—I had gotten used to it being scheduled mid-year. Nikki was fully supportive and wanted to join me.
That’s when we started running together, training for our first race.
After finishing my first 10K at the Milo Marathon, Nikki suggested we join more races—at least one every month.
The next one I signed up for was the 10K of the Santé Barley Trilogy Run Asia’s first leg, where I clocked my first sub-1.
Then came the second leg.
Then the third—both just around 50 seconds shy of another sub-1.
After that third leg, Nikki casually said,
“Baka gusto mo namang gawing 21 ‘yan sa finals.”
I wasn’t convinced. My 10Ks might have been fast for casual runners, but my perceived effort was still around a 6 or 7 out of 10.
Then my best friend Wilma told me otherwise.
We visited her one day after she gave birth to her daughter, Yelly. Since she’s also a runner—one who completed the longest distances in last year’s Trilogy—I told her about my hesitation.
She responded instantly and excitedly, “KAYA MO ‘YUN!”
She reminded me it was only August. I had until November 9 to train.
Her older brother chimed in, “Maniwala ka sa doctor na bagong panganak.”
So… I registered.
I asked ChatGPT for a training plan and started increasing my weekly mileage in September. My LSD runs got longer.
I joined the weekly running clinics organized by Runners PH at work. And it’s nice to have them as my friends because I suddenly had informal coaches who could guide me on my training—other than also serving as taga-budol for any running gear.
I don’t know what running does to people, but they are some of the chillest and most positive individuals I’ve met in QBE.
When the week of the National Finals arrived, I was already on my taper week. But weather forecasts showed a typhoon approaching Luzon that Sunday—the day of the race.
Organizers said they were still coordinating whether the race would push through.
I was, of course, hoping for the best. I wanted to believe the forecasts on Windy saying the worst of the typhoon won’t come until the middle of the day, probably when all runners have crossed the finish line and the event is done.
At around 2:00 p.m. on Saturday, the day before the race, the announcement dropped.
The National Finals were cancelled.
No rescheduling.
No alternative date.
Everyone would still receive their entitlements.
And I was so devastated. I mean, I’ve already planned my meals for that Saturday—carbo loading, proper nutrition, and all that. We’ve even booked an AirBNB closer to the venue so that we didn’t have to stress about booking a transportation.
I saw posts online, some of the runners from other parts of the country have already arrived in Manila. And then there were also posts from runners who are organizing their own community runs to compensate for the cancelled race.
I wanted to join them, but the schedules they planned didn’t fit with mine. So I asked Nikki if he would be willing to join me… and of course, he would. We’d start at 3:00 a.m., and hopefully finish before 6:00 a.m., when forecasts say there might be some rain.
And we did that. We followed the planned route. From SM Mall of Asia> to Roxas Boulevard> Luneta> Manila> Binondo> Intramuros > back.
And you know what I loved most about this run? It’s seeing all the other runners, wearing the same singlets, passing by saying, “Good morning!” or “Let’s go runners!” It felt like we’re one big community, united by the grief of not having the finals race we deserved and powered by the passion for the sport we love.
That day, I finished as a half-marathoner.
Anyway, Runrio couldn’t get their shit together the week after. They reaffirmed the cancellation, but would give more freebies to the registrants. Then they revoked it the day after and provided a new date for the finals.
I didn’t attend that race. They don’t deserve me or any one of us who ran on the original date.
I already earned my medal.
And I deserved to wear it.
I still run today—more than 1,140 kilometers since that first run I recorded in December 18.
Every medal carries a memory:
my first 10K, my first sub-1, my sub-30 5K, my near misses.
I now use a Garmin watch—heavily influenced by my running friends from work. I treated it as my Christmas gift to myself after a hell of a year.
I was able to do all this because someone who loves me supported me all the way. Supported me so much, he was literally beside me when I crossed finish lines.
In the last three races Nikki and I participated, I broke PR after PR. The effort was lighter—proof that my training had really paid off.
And on a bittersweet note, we no longer cross finish lines together. Now, I wait minutes for him.
He always tells me, “I’m so proud of you.”
From pushing me toward my first sub-1… to letting me go ahead because he can no longer keep up.
Just so you know, I’m here because you cheered me on and pushed me to be here.
And I love you for that.














