I’m a Sun Runner – finally!
By Vic Ting
It was a cool, crisp morning and the sun was supposed to be out the whole day. Perfect weather for strolling, maybe even running. I had asked the kids to sleep early the night before so that we would all be up by 6 to get ready for the Sun Run. Looking into their beds, it was heart wrenching to wake them up from their snoring slumber. So the wife and I set off on our own. Finally! We were going to do the Vancouver Sun Run.
Hard to believe five years had passed since our last attempt. I got as far as putting on the requisite white souvenir Sun Run t-shirt. Then we found out one of the kids was already running … running a fever, and so like any responsible parent, we put off pounding the pavement with 50,000 or so other people (hoping to lose maybe a few pounds in the process) to look after the kids. Well, at least I got to keep the shirt but we kept putting off joining ever since. Fast forward five years later and here we were getting off Granville station, leaving the car in Metrotown’s underground parking lot (mental thought: “We better make sure we get back in four hours!”). Walking out to Georgia Street, I half-expected to see slim and trim 20 and 30 somethings in their track shorts and Asics with timers in hand. That would have been the case if we registered for a completion time of 30 minutes. But since we registered for the walkers and strollers division, we were in the company of the young ones (babies in strollers), the once-young, and even the lawlaw-ans! That’s probably why we had a concentration of these ladies walking around handing out free Red Bull drinks; maybe they thought we needed it just to make it to the starting line. Mrs and I grabbed one each and tucked it away for later.
After a quick trip to the porta-toilets (mental note “Don’t look into the holes again or better yet, suggest to the rental companies to install flaps that will block your vision and prevent psychological trauma after you satisfy your curiosity to find out what’s down there”), our adrenalin was up. We joined the crowd, drinking in the music of the cover bands, waiting for the traditional pistol crack to sound “bang!” at which signal, all of us runners would sprint off into the sunrise (slow motion – with Chariots of Fire music in the background)! Watching too many movies does that to you. The reality was we were off to the magical sound of computerized “beep-beeps” as everyone’s running chips were activated. It actually sounded more like we were grocery items being scanned by the cashier at Superstore or Safeway. So we were off!
Being in a big surging crowd reminded me of student gatherings during UP days, though here in Vancouver we did not need to look over our shoulders. Back then Lean Alejandro headed the SC, the signature petition for Cory was doing the rounds, freshmen cringed at their appointment for a “full physical”, and Ikot was 0.75 centavos. Another UP memory related to Sun Run that came to mind was participating in the throat-quenching march with the whole DCMT (the Rayadillos, FAs, Infantry, MPs and all) from UP campus to Batasan and back to the Arboretum in our Saturday sweat starched fatigues and boots. Ah, that was a good 20+ years in the past and here we were, so many more pounds later, going for more self-punishment. And it wasn’t even Holy Week yet.
“We can do this … it’s just brisk walking …as..long..as...we..can..o..ver..take..ba..by..strol..lers..we..would..not..be..in..last..place..(hingal aso) !”
One kilometer in and people were taking off their fleece sweaters, leaving them behind for the Salvation Army to pick up (mental note: “I hope those get to the homeless, and not to ukay ukay”). It felt good until this mature lady in a pink tracksuit overtook us all the while saying to everyone she passed “I’m 70 years old! I’m 70 years old!” Her ear-to-ear smile wiped out ours.
Four kilometers in and we’re two-thirds of the way! We grabbed a couple of free mini-bagels but decided to forego the water (didn’t want to make another porta-toilet stop). Somewhere along First Beach and just past the apartment fire, we found ourselves walking behind an old gentleman assisted by his partner who guided him by his left arm. What caught my attention was the print on the back of his partner’s shirt. “WWII Marine veteran, 91 years old” with an arrow pointing right, to the old man. “Are you really 91?” He looked at me incredulously as if to say “No. I’m really 85. I padded it a few years just to make you ask” or in Tagalog “Sinabi na ngang 91 eh magtatanong ka pa.” I didn’t wait for a reply, not really sure whether he could hear me anyway.
As we approached Burrard bridge, I remembered reading on the internet that the abrupt incline on the approach to the bridge was a killer. Maybe that’s the case if you can still feel your legs! Now we had come to the moment of truth, we breathed in, flexed our diaphragms, clenched our fists, psyched ourselves … and opened our bottles of Red Bull! Bottoms up without missing a step. “That wasn’t so bad. What’s in this thing anyway?” It looked like raw leche flan that didn’t set, tasted somewhat like medicine diluted in condensed milk, and was apparently 200 percent taurine (mother’s milk? who would have guessed.) Wife says let’s keep the bottles as souvenirs.
Seven kilometers in and she says “Hon, take my picture please”. I said I’ll have mine later at the finish line. By then we
knew we would make it. “Sisiw!” eka nga. It wasn’t all downhill but it seemed like the kilometers were shorter (or maybe our legs had grown longer). Now it was more of “what’s going to be our time?” or “Wonder if our picture will be in the Vancouver Sun…”
Crossing the finish line was sort of anti-climactic. I didn’t even get a picture as you had to keep moving in order not to block the crowd. By our calculation, it took us 1 hour 50 minutes (though the official record was slightly faster).
We finished! That was the only thing that mattered. We survived without leg cramps, without injuries, no hidden roller blades, no taking shortcuts, no toilet stops! We now belonged to the Sun Run community. Heck we even made it back to the car in Metrotown within four hours!
PS. Already planning a return next year with the goal of beating our walking time.
Hard to believe five years had passed since our last attempt. I got as far as putting on the requisite white souvenir Sun Run t-shirt. Then we found out one of the kids was already running … running a fever, and so like any responsible parent, we put off pounding the pavement with 50,000 or so other people (hoping to lose maybe a few pounds in the process) to look after the kids. Well, at least I got to keep the shirt but we kept putting off joining ever since. Fast forward five years later and here we were getting off Granville station, leaving the car in Metrotown’s underground parking lot (mental thought: “We better make sure we get back in four hours!”). Walking out to Georgia Street, I half-expected to see slim and trim 20 and 30 somethings in their track shorts and Asics with timers in hand. That would have been the case if we registered for a completion time of 30 minutes. But since we registered for the walkers and strollers division, we were in the company of the young ones (babies in strollers), the once-young, and even the lawlaw-ans! That’s probably why we had a concentration of these ladies walking around handing out free Red Bull drinks; maybe they thought we needed it just to make it to the starting line. Mrs and I grabbed one each and tucked it away for later.
After a quick trip to the porta-toilets (mental note “Don’t look into the holes again or better yet, suggest to the rental companies to install flaps that will block your vision and prevent psychological trauma after you satisfy your curiosity to find out what’s down there”), our adrenalin was up. We joined the crowd, drinking in the music of the cover bands, waiting for the traditional pistol crack to sound “bang!” at which signal, all of us runners would sprint off into the sunrise (slow motion – with Chariots of Fire music in the background)! Watching too many movies does that to you. The reality was we were off to the magical sound of computerized “beep-beeps” as everyone’s running chips were activated. It actually sounded more like we were grocery items being scanned by the cashier at Superstore or Safeway. So we were off!
Being in a big surging crowd reminded me of student gatherings during UP days, though here in Vancouver we did not need to look over our shoulders. Back then Lean Alejandro headed the SC, the signature petition for Cory was doing the rounds, freshmen cringed at their appointment for a “full physical”, and Ikot was 0.75 centavos. Another UP memory related to Sun Run that came to mind was participating in the throat-quenching march with the whole DCMT (the Rayadillos, FAs, Infantry, MPs and all) from UP campus to Batasan and back to the Arboretum in our Saturday sweat starched fatigues and boots. Ah, that was a good 20+ years in the past and here we were, so many more pounds later, going for more self-punishment. And it wasn’t even Holy Week yet.
“We can do this … it’s just brisk walking …as..long..as...we..can..o..ver..take..ba..by..strol..lers..we..would..not..be..in..last..place..(hingal aso) !”
One kilometer in and people were taking off their fleece sweaters, leaving them behind for the Salvation Army to pick up (mental note: “I hope those get to the homeless, and not to ukay ukay”). It felt good until this mature lady in a pink tracksuit overtook us all the while saying to everyone she passed “I’m 70 years old! I’m 70 years old!” Her ear-to-ear smile wiped out ours.
Four kilometers in and we’re two-thirds of the way! We grabbed a couple of free mini-bagels but decided to forego the water (didn’t want to make another porta-toilet stop). Somewhere along First Beach and just past the apartment fire, we found ourselves walking behind an old gentleman assisted by his partner who guided him by his left arm. What caught my attention was the print on the back of his partner’s shirt. “WWII Marine veteran, 91 years old” with an arrow pointing right, to the old man. “Are you really 91?” He looked at me incredulously as if to say “No. I’m really 85. I padded it a few years just to make you ask” or in Tagalog “Sinabi na ngang 91 eh magtatanong ka pa.” I didn’t wait for a reply, not really sure whether he could hear me anyway.
As we approached Burrard bridge, I remembered reading on the internet that the abrupt incline on the approach to the bridge was a killer. Maybe that’s the case if you can still feel your legs! Now we had come to the moment of truth, we breathed in, flexed our diaphragms, clenched our fists, psyched ourselves … and opened our bottles of Red Bull! Bottoms up without missing a step. “That wasn’t so bad. What’s in this thing anyway?” It looked like raw leche flan that didn’t set, tasted somewhat like medicine diluted in condensed milk, and was apparently 200 percent taurine (mother’s milk? who would have guessed.) Wife says let’s keep the bottles as souvenirs.
Seven kilometers in and she says “Hon, take my picture please”. I said I’ll have mine later at the finish line. By then we
knew we would make it. “Sisiw!” eka nga. It wasn’t all downhill but it seemed like the kilometers were shorter (or maybe our legs had grown longer). Now it was more of “what’s going to be our time?” or “Wonder if our picture will be in the Vancouver Sun…”
Crossing the finish line was sort of anti-climactic. I didn’t even get a picture as you had to keep moving in order not to block the crowd. By our calculation, it took us 1 hour 50 minutes (though the official record was slightly faster).
We finished! That was the only thing that mattered. We survived without leg cramps, without injuries, no hidden roller blades, no taking shortcuts, no toilet stops! We now belonged to the Sun Run community. Heck we even made it back to the car in Metrotown within four hours!
PS. Already planning a return next year with the goal of beating our walking time.