Healthier, Wealthier, and Wiser in Covid-19

Even at the outset, I knew that this lockdown will work out just fine for me and for those around me that I have some semblance of influence over. In fact, I had a plan: that when this is over, or hopefully even in the thick of it, I will be healthier, I will be wealthier and, more importantly, I will be wiser. But wait, there’s more! In making myself HW&W, and because I do not regard this thing lightly but accept that it will not all be a walk in the park due to the strict social distancing rules, I will find joy every step of the way. Pleasure is part of the plan. What’s the whole point if at the end, you are healthier, wealthier and wiser but miserable?

We are now well into the fourth month since the lockdown or the adjective-adjective-adjective quarantine began. My point being this wasn’t an aimless feel-good thing at the beginning that was later on swallowed by self-pity, boredom, household conflicts, extra pounds and scarlet-red bottom lines. There is a happy ending to this story, folks!

Healthier.

I thought I already had a healthy lifestyle even prior to this pandemic. Because of the stent now allowing smooth blood circulation into and out of mi corazon for three years now, cardio 5k runs around the village every Sunday and workouts 2 to 3x a week were part of my routine. I also ate nothing but fish and vegetables. But I needed to level up and make it healthier as the plan demands. So I started running 5k every 3 days and, during lent season which fell within the Q period, I didn’t eat anything that had a face or a mother. Workouts with weights were 4-5 days a week. 

Expectedly, I hit a snag. No big plans are carried out without ’em, right? By Easter, stricter rules were implemented in the village that disallowed loitering and other non-essential outdoor activities like jogging and kissing. Instead of banging my head against a wall, I summoned my good ol’ stationary bike back to action (“…but where will I hang my towel?”). It’s not the same ‘high’ I get when running outdoor but I get all sweat, just the same. The heart doesn't get as much beating though and, literally, I had nowhere to go. 

When the rules eased down, I was back running 5k 2x a week and working out almost everyday. My personal 5k best was when I finished under 30mins (5’52”/km) just a few weeks ago. I like keeping tab of my stats because it’s one way to keep busy thinking about how to better myself.  This alone keeps me sane during this probably once-in-a-lifetime period in my life. I kept my weight magically between 68-70kgs all throughout this time despite developing an appetite for hot Korean ramen and kimchi. My reason for the new taste is, apart from watching K-dramas on Netflix featuring South Koreans slurping spicy jjamppong and jjol-myeon like there’s no North, Google shows that the country with the least cases of coronary heart disease in the entire planet is South Korea (https://www.worldlifeexpectancy.com/cause-of-death/coronary-heart-disease/by-country/). Annyeong tothat! Bring in the soju, too!

Apart from all these, my daughter encouraged me to do some abs workout -something that I only need to follow on Youtube, 10mins everyday. I am now well within my 5th week of a 2-week workout. Working overtime, that’s what it is!

Wealthier.

My company, Toespin Lighting Design, never relented in our commitment to serve our clients. Working from home, we continued to craft design work, hold online meetings, pursue new projects and turn disadvantages into advantages. Working from home turned out to be better for us. Going to and from meetings in the south of the metro where most of our biggest clients hold office takes us no less than 3.5 hours -even if the actual meetings take only a few minutes longer than a no.2 in the toilet without a bidet. Add to that the cost of gas, vehicle wear and tear, parking, cellphone data, expensive lunch, obligatory walk thru Uniqlo and H&M, laundry, and forced smiles given to clients that don’t deserve them. Not only am I watering plants that have grown and plants that are growing, I am planting new seeds, too. Never before in my lifetime have I done bicep curls during a business meeting!

To be honest, my bottom line bordered into the yellow zone of late as I hit another snag. Summer days were really dry but when the rains came, it poured! Hallelujah!

Wealthier and Wiser.

Instead of paying tens of thousands of pesos to do them, I studied website design and made my company website https://www.toespin.com all by myself, from square one. It took me one entire week to do the lay-outing, brainstorming by myself and writing content. There was a bit of cleaning and tidying up after then but I was able to put the site up in 7 days from a blank screen. Now that we are online and with the “new normal” way of doing business, I hear ka-ching, ka-ching! This old dog deserves a treat for learning new tricks!

With the help of some professionals, I also created Rosary of the Nations. This was created many years ago but was just recently finished. Most of the testing, debugging and promotions were done during this period. This is a rosary prayer portal where each rosary is a sort of a collab between 74 people from 74 countries praying in their own languages, including the Pope in Vatican City. That is, one bead, one country. Check it out -start one and 73 other people from 73 other countries will help you finish it or join one that others have started. Check out also our Youtube channel where you can download or listen to finished rosaries. 

www.rosaryofthenations.org

I think of it this way. If you believe in the power of community prayer, how much more powerful your prayer is if, literally, the whole world prays with you? My dictum is this: I am empowered by people who pray for me and I help empower those that I pray for. This dictum gets reinforcement everyday when my family, joined by all my siblings’ families pray the rosary everyday. We hook up using Messenger and raise each others prayers together. This we do everyday for the past 3.5 months! Something we’ve never done since forever.

Wiser.

I may have gained knowledge developing and mastering a few skills. When running, I’ve even learned to communicate and control my body telling it that my mind is in control esp when running out of breath and wanting to stop. Throughout this time, I have been busier than pre-covid days. I had more business meetings, exclusively doing the household laundry and folding them after, cleaning the house and waxing the cars but have managed my time pretty well. Wisdom must be in there, alright, and I really think I am wiser for the better. But wisdom for me is this: The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: and the knowledge of the holy is prudence (Proverbs 9:10). For me, I cannot be HW&W if I am not spiritually HW&W.

Before the lockdown, I attended mass everyday, seldomly missing a day without. This is where I find inspiration especially when important decisions have to be made. Or where to go for a hot brew. Good thing is, the churches where I used to attend mass in hold online masses everyday. This is how my family and I get to attend daily mass. The church allows spiritual communion during this time.

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Now my abs pack closely approximates Thor's. Yep, just by a mile! Now I can challenge Usain Bolt, too! Yup, and this article will win me the Pulitzer! But this ain’t my point!

Sadness and bitterness towards this lockdown were thrown away with the bags and bags of rubbish that we’ve been hoarding all these years. I smiled at the sun as its rays reflect against  the hood of my newly-waxed car. Joy comes when I light up a candle, as my family’s acolyte when preparing for an online mass in the morning or a rosary in the evening. Lunches and dinners were never as complete. Happiness is being able to serve family and God while feeding on your own spirituality.

There’s never been like this before since perhaps the Great Flood. I don’t know. Not in the last 60 years of my being, at least. This was supposed to be just a simple stride but somehow turned to be a journey in itself. But if this thing won’t break me, and heck, I won't let it, then nothing will.

By the way, how do you fold a bra?

      

Next blog: "Life's a Choice. Multiple Choice."

Previous blog:  "Father's Day Laundry Reflections"           

Father's Day Laundry Reflections

Today I woke up  at 5:10am with nothing in my mind apart from doing my regular Sunday 5k run and the laundry in the washing machine that I’ve programmed last night to finish by just about this time. Still with that crusty gunk in the inner corners of my eyes, I went down to check if it’s done. And it is. I set another 15mins for extra spin to make drying faster. Google says it’s going to be sunny today ’til about noon. A responsible laundry guy like me knows how to check the weather forecast. As I write this, my laundry is basking under the 31° heat of the early morning sun. It's 8 o'clock high noon!

I thought I’d do a chill run today -being Father’s day which I really do not regard any more special than the regular days since I still have to do the laundry anyways. This day is for the malls, Lazada, Amazon and other online stores. Not for real - for me. 

Anyways, back to the run. A chill run for me is not trying to outrun myself or break my own record or run under 30mins. Just. Run. 5k. Nonstop. No matter how long it takes me. The first km is always difficult -for some reason, this is how my body reacts. At every start, this bod makes me think that it’s good for only about 2 to 2.5k this run. Always. Every run. The second, third and fourth are usually better but the last K, mentally, is most torturing. It feels like you need to pee already but you’re in the middle of a heavy traffic and you’re still like a harrowing half-an-hour away to your destination. In our village, I run past the usual early morning neighbors around the block that I cover. Around the corner just before turning to the street where our house is, the usual neighbor is a lady with a coffee mug in one hand and a rosary in the other. Sometimes I see her walking around the same block until she finishes the rosary. Today, she was just standing there as if waiting for someone to walk or run by. I did. Even before I’d do my usual no-word g’morning hand gesture, she greeted, “Happy Father’s day!” I was, by then in my last K with that I-need-to-pee-already-in-the-middle-of-a-heavy-traffic feeling, expelling every ounce of oxygen out of my lungs. But believe me, when I heard her greeting, I felt I could do another 5k. What a short, simple action can do even to a person in a breathless situation like I was in! Amazing! Then, just then, I thought maybe Father’s day is for real.

But it is real. You know why? Ask me “why?”

Am waiting… 
Ask me now.

Father’s day is real because our Heavenly Father is real. The Father and Creator of this universe. He is real. I know this because I am reminded of His presence all the time. This day is not really for me but for me to honor my Heavenly Father for His miracles that I continuously witness in my life and in the people who matter to me. I honor Him for all these and also for this:

Yesterday, I mounted these frames that Andre and Nikkei have been pestering me to put up since pre-covid days. Oh man, that was a long time ago! They were supposed to surprise Andre and Nikkei who were out swimming with their cousins. But surprise was on me. I realized that all this time, I was denying myself the joy of seeing how beautiful the children that Father God has given me to look after, to guard, to love. And now as I sit chugging the protein drink I prepared before the run and listening to my Sunday playlist, I smile looking at the new wall of fame. Today, I am also reminded that He also gave me an earthly father -tatang Didong, who left this world seven months ago. I read again this article I wrote on the day of his burial. It's good to be reminded every now and then.

Thank You, Abba Father. Thank you, tatang D. To all the fathers who inspire me and to all the fathers reading this, Happy Father's day. The extra 0.25k distance and the extra 5'41" time I ran today are dedicated to you. Yep, every puff of the way.

Previous: "I Am Content, I Love"                  Next: "Healthier, Wealthier, and Wiser in Covid-19"

I Am Content, I Love.

Disclaimer: Modesty is temporarily quarantined and suspended in this post.

I am content at how I turned out to be as a person. In equal measure, I can honestly say the same for all my siblings. None of us became civic leaders, youtube sensations or influencers of the sort but we’re no thieves, arsonists, or mercenaries. Neither do we side with any of them. We love God and we love our families. What formed us, you ask?  In the beginning, we had someone to love -our dear mother, Leonila. She was a gentle soul. So beautiful, so kind, so soft-hearted.

We, my 3 brothers and a sister were our mother's biggest headaches as she concerned herself with nothing but our well-being, day in and day out. We loved our Inang dearly and even now that’s she’s gone, our love for her is manifested in our looking out for one another. We are who we are because I firmly believe, we loved our mother. I miss and think of her everyday.

This is my theory: a person who loves his mother is a good person. Though maybe not absolutely, but generally.

Celebrating a cousin's birthday. Good ol' days.

Now, I am content at how my children are turning out to be. All two of them. They may one day be influencer-leaders contributing much to society or just to the people around them. They will most likely be because they had someone to teach them to love God and respect others -their mother. I often hear them saying one day, they’ll send her to Europe for a vacation. Me included, of course, but that’s for a Father’s day post. Andre, in his Facebook greeting post to his mother a few days ago, even declared proudly that he is a mama's boy. Nikkei wrote about the comforting texts she gets from her mother while at work and expressed her forever love.

These are the same children who bicker now and then and every day -but that’s ok. I am not losing sleep and hair any further because I know that they do care for each other. They also love God. They also love family. They also show respect. They are turning out to be and will turn out to be good people. Why? Because they love their mother.

My dear Nerissa, I thank the good Lord because our children have a mother worthy of this love. The Bible says, “We love because He first loved us.” This love is one that is sacrificial. This is the kind that you mirror so clearly, so beautifully. Your children love you because you first loved them.

Thank you, dear. I am content, and will ever be. Happy Mother’s day! We love you.

Milestone

お誕生日おめでとう！

I must welcome you, dear, into the “for the rest of our lives” part of our militant existence. You do know that I’d rather be Kon'nichiwa-ing with you if only to memorialize this milestone but we are held prisoners by something smaller than a speck of dust. But I can't let it arrest my thoughts and senses. This day may pass sans pomp and a brass band but not without this: 

I’ve honored you most for all that you do, but since there’s not much to do now, here’s to honor you for the things you do not do:

You do not cause me to burn a building in anger, just to burn with passion like the morning sun;

You do not look into my eyes, wicked cold and careless, but with a comforting warmth more soothing than a cup of coffee in your hands;

You do not hit me black and blue, but bring color to my world like red, yellow, green and blue; and ok, lavender, too;

You don’t drive me into madness, but to be MIL with you even more like a bee to its honey;

You don’t keep me away from my dreams, but help me make them come true, like one and one is two;

You do not smile for nothing, laugh for nothing, breathe for nothing, live for nothing;

You don’t do things ordinarily, but put extra into everything, like ube in ice cream.

You do me good. You don’t-do me good, too.

There’s also something in between, but that’s just for me and you.

Soon, after this ECQ, we’ll be hitting the reset button and start anew. 

Life’s been pretty and good, pretty good, I’d say. And in this new one that’s coming, we’ll make it prettyay.

I love you doe-a-dear. Happy birthday!

Tatang, I will not forget

Today, we your children will bury your body 6-feet under in a cemetery plot beside Inang’s body or whatever the last 16 years have turned it into. I just find it strange to bury and leave behind a beloved someone buried in dirt, never to be seen or touched again.

But I will not forget. You made sure I didn’t.

Whenever I see a jeepney. You’ve driven one to earn a living. I was too young to remember. Either that or we weren’t born yet. But you told us many kwentong jeepneys. I will remember.

Whenever I see a taxi cab. This, too, was your source of income after the jeepney. A promotion. An upgrade. Words to that effect. Those career moves drove you into losing one of your kidneys in 1995. I will remember.

Whenever I eat watermelons. Kuya Boy and I fought over one which ended in a watermelon throwing contest. We both lost ending up on our bellies to receive a pair of broom-stick spanks each. I will remember.

Whenever I see the beach. One summer day in Olongapo where we usually spend summer in the house of our aunts, Dà Viring and Dà Sayong to help out in the grocery store, you fetched us, Fred and me -your twins, in your cab and brought us to Kale beach. That was one fine picnic day -just the three of us -engraved in the happy moments sector of my brain’s hard drive. I will remember.

Whenever I hear a politician making a speech. In grade 3, I ran for a seat in the Student Council. I was up against two students whose mothers were teachers of the same school. You drafted my campaign speech full of promises I could never keep. Perhaps you knew what politicians were made of. I won convincingly. The school was never the same again -for better or for worse is another story. Twenty years later, I was made its guest speaker. I wrote my own speech. I will remember.

Whenever I see light. You were the electrician at home. Subconsciously, this must have inspired me to do the lighting thing I do now. You were also the plumber, the gardener, the carpenter. You were the my Handy Man in James Taylor’s song. I will remember.

Whenever I hear mass. And I hear mass everyday. The Holy Eucharist reminds me that you shared in the Lord’s sacrifice: as a jeepney and cab driver trying to hold that trip to the bathroom before reaching your passengers’ destination, as a farmer never minding the burning of your skin under the sun -if only to be a good husband and a good father to your family. I will remember.

Whenever I eat rice. You were a farmer all your life. You made sure we’d understand how hard it is to be one by making us plant and harvest with farmers during off-school days. We dried palay grains harvested during the wet season on concrete roads and on the school open basketball courts. And when the dark clouds appear, we’d rush to rake and shovel to sack them back in. We were little farmers, fast and furious. As a young Beatles fan, I didn’t fancy those days. Now, I see gold in every grain I see. Now I appreciate every bit of lesson there was to learn. I will remember.

Goodbye, Tatang. No more looking forward to movies together. Or going to the beach together. My eyes will not see you anymore. My hands will not touch yours anymore. But the unseen and the untouched can be more powerful than what is seen or touched. This family you’ve left behind, you’ve left behind solidly together. You and Inang were the loving catalyst that united and will keep uniting us. We will remember. We will love. Always.

Goodbye, Tatang. I love you. 

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!

The Gift Turns 21

The day you were born was the day God completed His biggest blessing to this vacay-crazed family - the gift of God-fearing children. Before my very eyes, I saw this gift grow and give joy to those around it. I’ve seen it smile and with it I smiled. I’ve seen it cry and with it my heart wept silently.

I saw it tough. I saw it tender.

In so many ways when you didn’t have the wits about you, you terrify, confuse, intimidate, scare and horrify us and the people around you. Borderline insane, ikr! But in equal measure, you make us laugh that only a Nikkei can. You make us proud for what you’ve become. So far, so good.

You hardly ask for attention because beautiful things do not ask for attention. Yes, that I know.

Regardless, our love for you will always be unconditional. You know that, right?

One of my favorite Bible verses is Matt 6:21 - Car là où est ton trésor, là aussi sera ton coeur. I wrote it in French just so you’d open your Bible to look it up. I love this verse and live by it because when you look deep inside mine, there you’ll find my treasures. There, you occupy a special place. 

Happy birthday, Nikkei. I thank God that I am the one and the only man who can truly call you -my daughter.

This is getting long already. Am done here.

Now bring out that vegan pizza and lemonade.