As we speak, I am still reeling from the adrenaline rush brought about by the excitement and the fear (well, 80% fear), of the Pinatubo 50K trail challenge we competed in yesterday.
Together with Councilor Vincent Belmonte, we both signed up for the Pinatubo 50km Ultramarathon Trail Race. My “bucket list” included running in a trail race, and being an ultramarathon-er… so why not accomplish both in one run, right? I have been on a Pinatubo trek 3 years ago, and somewhat had an idea how the terrain and the trail looked like, thus I was pretty confident we could finish 50 kilometers in less than 12 hours which was the cut-of time. Little did I know that the terrain around Pinatubo constantly changes – and the trail which I was familiar with had been closed down for years due to ash-slide (landslide!) Right smack mid-race, at roughly around 19 kilometers did I realize that the trail we were about to trek was the longest, the most difficult, and the ONLY path going to the crater!
The challenge really wasn’t the distance, but the actual course itself. A marathon race (and then some) with added “extras” such as running through sand (or ash flow), crossing gazillions of rivers, going through, in-between, above and under boulders and rocks – all under the scorching heat of the sun, and probably 2 pounds of sand and pebbles and rock inside your shoes and socks! The “bonus” part was diving into a pool of “quick sand,” almost being submerged thigh deep, watching ash-slide (landslide) happen 20 meters away from you, and braving to cross numerous rivers of raging lahar. On our trek down from the crater, heavy rain started to pour. What worried us much was the 8km trek going to where our support vehicle was. There was no trail path and it was all slippery sand and rocks. We knew right away that the river current was going to get even worse. Memories of white water rafting came into mind – it was lahar-water-rafting of ALL rapids – minus the raft, minus the paddle and minus the vest! Visions of the 1991 Pinatubo eruption as well as the powerful mudflow which took thousands of lives kept playing in my head. I knew I was not ready to go yet!

To say I felt “fear” was an understatement. One of my new running friends I met in the race said, when the lahar current suddenly took and yanked him away, his entire life flashed before him. I had a few close calls of slipping down from boulders, almost falling off a ravine, falling butt first in the river, and being taken away by the strong current. My right knee was hurting like hell, and both my legs were all black and blue and bleeding from the rouge rocks flowing with the current and cutting my legs. At that precise moment, your “survival skills” come into play and my legs, though bleeding and in pain, literally dragged my whole body to get to our destination.
One thing I learned from this ordeal was to respect Mother Nature more. Humans may be all powerful and knowledgeable, but once the environment unleashes its fury – we have no choice but to take it all in (or better yet, to RUN for survival). Indeed, it is a very humbling experience.
You ask me: Will I still run? – Ofcourse! …. Will I still try to attempt to become an ultramarathon-woman? – YES! … Will I still participate in a trail race? – Most likely… Will I ever go back to conquer Pinatubo? – NEVER.
Note: Kudos to all the other runners who finished the race! Congratulations to Baldrunner for organizing this 2nd Pinatubo 50km challenge. By far, my most memorable race ever!!! … And a pat on the back for me for (finally) finishing my “Birthday Run” – all 33kms of it (distance in kilometers corresponding to my age!)