earth run: father and son

earth run: father and son

Sunday, December 23, 2018

I'm An Addict

…to early Sunday morning jogs, that is. I’m training for the April 2019 NatGeo run in which my son Andre and I participated during its first three-year run. 



But since then, bum knees and arteriosclerosis happened. Later on, a stent in the artery, turning vegan, Japanese muscle exercises to strengthen the knees and a day in Bohol where I tried running again for the first time since the cardio procedure got me back on the tracks again. 

This morning’s early hours were wet, very wet. But I just had to run today, having missed it last week because running at 3°C in Tokyo might get me arrested for violating the strict harakiri law in Japan. There was just a mild drizzle so I put on a cap just to keep away the colds virus that a nearly-senior citizen like me must always be on guard against. 

My usual weekly run starts with 10 walk-laps around our village block with a perimeter of about 250m. After which I run 20 laps simulating a 5k run. But halfway into that, the rains got stronger. Keeping a cap on I assumed will get my neighbors thinking I’m stupid twice over. So I decided to swing by our garage to drop the cap without having to disturb my pace rhythm. 


Then it happened -third degree stupidity: I stepped on the most slippery part of our garage. Yes, the very same usual spot we tell house guests not to step on. 
THUD! 
Gravity pulled my not-so-fat pair of buns and left elbow against the rough parts of the garage floor first and the back of my hard skull against its wall next. Not even the new UA pair of running shoes could break the fall. No one witnessed I assumed, but the sound produced by that disgusting spectacle of myself was heard by my wife Rissa resting on the couch in the living room. "What was that?" she asked as I opened the door. Lifting my skinless elbow, I answered, "I slid."

After some first aid from the mad wife, I went back into the wet perimeter tracks, in my totally-drenched shirts, shorts and shoes to finish the remaining half of the run. Still raining. And just as soon as I resumed, my iPhone’s Spotify playlist started playing Cat Stevens Hard Headed Woman. Ha-ha, I thought. I am my wife’s Hard-headed Man.

I finished the run wounded but wiser with some hard lessons learned: keep the cap on; don't give a rat's whatever on what neighbors will say; skip the Cat Stevens song; and for the nth time, do something about them darn slippery tiles.

Merry Christmas, everyone!






Dec 26 Update:
My wounds are healing fast, thanks to Nikkei who dresses well, not only herself but also wounds.

In hindsight, during the fall, I was conscious enough to protect my head. Although it did hit the wall behind me, the impact was mitigated by that conscious effort. While earlier I wrote nothing broke the fall, I was wrong. Somebody did. I am guarded and protected by my guardian angel to whom I pray everyday: Angel Dei, cui custos es mei... 

And yes, I bought a can of rubberized floor coating for them tiles already.

Happy New Year, everyone!