Tuesday, August 05, 2008 Pages: Go, go, go with Milo, Milo... By John Pages Match Point
AT 5:25 a.m. two days ago, two cars stopped in the middle of Osmeña Blvd. The plate number was no number—it read, in bold letters, “MAYOR.” Wearing a black T-shirt, Mayor Tommy Osmeña disembarked from his SUV then strolled along the street named after his family. Seconds later, his wife, the energetic and forever-smiling Margot, stepped out. At that hour of dawn when Cebuanos were snuggled in bed, Mrs. Osmeña was upbeat, lively and, of course, smiling.
They entered a forest.....
In the middle of Osmeña Boulevard? Along the road? A forest?
True. It was a forest of green...
Every body wore green last Sunday. Organized by the company who owns the forest color, the 32nd Milo Marathon was that: at 32 years old, long-running, and, last Sunday, it was running.
Twenty five thousand Cebuanos ran. According to official numbers, it’s 24,270—but don’t believe that. Because, like me and hundreds of others, we ran without having registered. (We tried to register and were told we no longer could—but more on that later.)
There stood students, grandparents, friends, lovers, teachers, members of the Cebu Executive Runners Club (CERC). Finally, when the mayor and his wife climbed the stage and the clock ticked “6:00,” the runners were off.
Sprinters sprinted. Seventy-year-olds limped. Teenagers blasted off the starting line and scurried away.
Our group running the 21-K galloped first. We were 50, a hundred, maybe 200—all with pistons beneath our chests that pumped. I ran alongside two of my closest friends in running: Meyrick Jacalan and Jesse Taborada.
Jacs, as we call Meyrick, is the creative mastermind behind the advertising success called Asap. Jesse, the president of CERC, operates the delicious smorgasbord of seafood called Sug-angan. Together with dozens of others, we jogged.
Here was a funny sight: About a kilometer into the race, after the 3K runners were released a minute after us, children started overtaking their elders (us!). There was this little child—no older than six but who looked as small as a three-year-old—who squeezed in the middle of our pack. He overtook us! It was a funny, hard-to-believe sight, as one of our companions shouted, “Mighty Mouse!”
Jonathan Guardo ran beside his entourage which included Raffy Uytiepo. Drs. Yong Larrazabal and Peter Mancao—both of whom are gearing up for the Chicago Marathon this October—bolted away.
Our CERC group took turns carrying a banner throughout the 21K route which read: “To our friend... BERNIE... Godspeed!”
Bernie Lanutan, a running enthusiast who enjoyed waking up at dawn to jog, was preparing for the 42K Milo Marathon in Manila. Unfortunately, Bernie did not make it to the starting line—just a month ago, he unexpectedly passed away.
Back to the numbers—25,000—what a sight! From the intersection of Abellana School, runners crowded all the way to the intersection of P. Del Rosario St.
To Ricky Ballesteros, the chief organizer, and the Milo team—congratulations!
But.... some suggestions:
First, water. In the early part of the race, water was aplenty. But as the route drew longer, the water turned scarcer. Please ensure—and this applies to all race organizers—that there isn’t just enough water; there is MORE than enough water.
Two, why the early 21K cutoff? Many of my companions were not able to register because they were told only 150 (is that true?) were allocated for the Half-Marathon participants. Why limit? Why accept 20,000 for the 5K and only a handful for the 21?
Three, it was a late start. If you run 21 kms., unless you’re Millette Chiongbian (who won fourth place) or Nogi Biagan or Steve Ferraren (who clocked a speedy 1:39)—you’ll finish in 2:15 or even past three hours. Starting the race at six means a finish nearing 9 a.m. Too hot for running. Too hot for these elder Mighty Mice.
But, apart from those minor glitches, Milo was a runaway success.
