It was the morning after a snowstorm dumped a foot of snow, leaving the roads almost free from traffic, when I looked out the window and saw a middle-aged man running down the middle of the road.
He was wearing a pair of shorts over a thermal undergarment, a short sleeve shirt over a long sleeve shirt, and a handkerchief with knots tied on four corners that served as his head gear. No matching fancy jogging suit nor a smart watch.
His short-stride shuffles were smooth despite the treacherousness of the road ahead of him. He had this peaceful and content face, with a slight grin written on his face despite the deep snow and cold wind. He looked happy to me.
The year was 1977, the height of the running boom in the United States. I was only a 15-year-old kid back then, and I had newly-arrived in New York from Manila where I grew up. I didn’t understand why anyone would run in that kind of cold weather. I thought he was crazy!
Little did I know I would also become a runner myself. A happy runner to be exact.
“Happiness is different from pleasure. Happiness has something to do with struggling, enduring, and accomplishing,” running guru George Sheehan had said.
There’s a chemical called endorphin that is released when one runs. It interacts with some receptors in tje runner’s brain that reduces his perception of pain. It also gives the runner a positive feeling that we call “runner’s high”.
No wonder, when you see a runner or a group of runners running around the Dumaguete streets, you often see them happy, chatting animatedly, laughing loudly, taking selfies in wacky poses.
Don’t mind them, they are not crazy, just happy.
My observation is that runners and triathletes here in the Philippines express more positive feelings while engaged in their sport, than those I encountered where I lived for more than 40 years.
Here, they are always joking around, and frolicking during a run, not to mention taking selfies at every chance they get — even in the middle of a race.
Nothing seems to worry them when they are running, no matter what distance they are trying to complete. Just as long as it doesn’t rain; they will run for cover.
In the recent DACCA 21- Kilometer Half-Marathon race on Chinese New Year, the runners were welcomed with joyous festivities, together with music and foam bubbles spread out at the finish line.
Before that, the race started at 4:30 dawn. All 21K racers had to endure a challenging out-back course that started from Robinsons, to two major uphill and downhill along Bajumpandan/Cantil-e, and the Valencia Road, then a turn-around at the Dumaguete Agape Chinese-Christian Academy and back down to the mall grounds.
The podium winner crossed the finish line in less than 80 minutes, while most runners were out on the course for more than two hours (taking selfies, I suppose).
Imagine what a runner’s body could take from continuous pounding and arms swinging. One could burn as much as 1,400 calories — that’s a lot of Chickenjoy.
Upon crossing the finish line, one simply feels a sense of relief and elation when you realize what you had just accomplished.
Then the organizers hang the finisher’s medal around your neck, you collect your finisher’s t-shirt (after having been given an event jersey), and best of all, you are rewarded with a Jollibee chicken breakfast.
The half marathoners during the DACCA race were not the only ones enjoying the festivities but also the kids who had participated in a fun run. Everyone, including the children’s parents, clearly had a great time after crossing the finish line.
The “runner’s high” lingers on for some time as the participants exchange war stories on the physical feat they had just accomplished.
Run happy, it is good for our soul.
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