The curious cases of the tourism run
WHAT would you do if after placing third in the women’s division you found out you weren’t even among the top 10 winners?
Or, what would you do if you placed ninth in the category for the other sex?
Would you check down there to see if somehow, in the course of a 5K run, you lost your cojones?
And best of all, what would you do if during the awarding ceremony, organizers ask you “OK, kinsa man na-una ninyo? Honest lang?”
Would you tell them—maypa di na lang mo mag-organize ug run?
Or would you say you did it in record time and take first place?
I guess, despite becoming a bandit runner for the second straight event, I can call myself lucky as I didn’t have to find out the answer to those questions.
I just hope that those who had to won’t be discouraged from joining future events.
The gaffe of the female-winner-who-turned-out-to-be-a-guy can be readily explained to a mix-up of sorts—maybe the guy checked the box for women in his form—but the missing third placer is one that really piqued my curiosity.
Since local organizers here can’t afford to go high-tech, they rely on “paper chips,” and hand these to the finishers in chronological order.
Aside from that, there are at least two others who check the runners’ numbers as they cross the finish line.
The runners too, especially the elite ones, can be counted on to know their standing in the race.
So how the mix-up occurred is beyond me.
One more thing, when I saw the results of another race last Sunday as I got to the office, that same runner who thought she was third but wasn’t, was also listed as the third placer.
Curious, eh?
And one more thing.
The winners of another category—all top 10—disappeared before they could be awarded. The emcee looked like a poor soul who was abandoned by her friends.
But everyone stayed for the raffles—which were a lot.
Had there been a raffle for a trip for two, plus hotel accommodation for South Africa next year, I would have gladly entered a thousand entries!
Now if every other run will hold a raffle…
As for me, I can proudly say I could have been in the top 10 of the media division.
They only awarded the top eight and since there were only two bandit runners—those who are not registered—I could have finished an hour later and still be in the top 10.
I was gloating when I crossed the finish line at just a shade over 30 minutes.
Not too bad for a 30-year-old. That’s one minute for every year in service, I say.
But then I learned that a seven-year-old finished the 3K in less than 15!
What? She could have run until the 5K and beat me by more than five minutes!
Oh boy, this once-a-week grind doesn’t work.
Maybe it’s time to join the crowd at Abellana.
Last Sunday, I spent most of the run zplaying tag with Joel Garganera and his daughter.
Joel served as his daughter’s pace runner and was just using the run to prepare for the Singapore Marathon this Sunday.
I think I overtook him thrice, and he passed me thrice also.
When we got to the finish line, I tried to keep pace with them but I found out that recalling memories of the days when you ran for two hours straight doesn’t help you at all in that last hundred meters.
My legs gave up.
And a girl, who I think still had her makeup on, overtook me.
Dang it!
Or, what would you do if you placed ninth in the category for the other sex?
Would you check down there to see if somehow, in the course of a 5K run, you lost your cojones?
And best of all, what would you do if during the awarding ceremony, organizers ask you “OK, kinsa man na-una ninyo? Honest lang?”
Would you tell them—maypa di na lang mo mag-organize ug run?
Or would you say you did it in record time and take first place?
I guess, despite becoming a bandit runner for the second straight event, I can call myself lucky as I didn’t have to find out the answer to those questions.
I just hope that those who had to won’t be discouraged from joining future events.
The gaffe of the female-winner-who-turned-out-to-be-a-guy can be readily explained to a mix-up of sorts—maybe the guy checked the box for women in his form—but the missing third placer is one that really piqued my curiosity.
Since local organizers here can’t afford to go high-tech, they rely on “paper chips,” and hand these to the finishers in chronological order.
Aside from that, there are at least two others who check the runners’ numbers as they cross the finish line.
The runners too, especially the elite ones, can be counted on to know their standing in the race.
So how the mix-up occurred is beyond me.
One more thing, when I saw the results of another race last Sunday as I got to the office, that same runner who thought she was third but wasn’t, was also listed as the third placer.
Curious, eh?
And one more thing.
The winners of another category—all top 10—disappeared before they could be awarded. The emcee looked like a poor soul who was abandoned by her friends.
But everyone stayed for the raffles—which were a lot.
Had there been a raffle for a trip for two, plus hotel accommodation for South Africa next year, I would have gladly entered a thousand entries!
Now if every other run will hold a raffle…
As for me, I can proudly say I could have been in the top 10 of the media division.
They only awarded the top eight and since there were only two bandit runners—those who are not registered—I could have finished an hour later and still be in the top 10.
I was gloating when I crossed the finish line at just a shade over 30 minutes.
Not too bad for a 30-year-old. That’s one minute for every year in service, I say.
But then I learned that a seven-year-old finished the 3K in less than 15!
What? She could have run until the 5K and beat me by more than five minutes!
Oh boy, this once-a-week grind doesn’t work.
Maybe it’s time to join the crowd at Abellana.
Last Sunday, I spent most of the run zplaying tag with Joel Garganera and his daughter.
Joel served as his daughter’s pace runner and was just using the run to prepare for the Singapore Marathon this Sunday.
I think I overtook him thrice, and he passed me thrice also.
When we got to the finish line, I tried to keep pace with them but I found out that recalling memories of the days when you ran for two hours straight doesn’t help you at all in that last hundred meters.
My legs gave up.
And a girl, who I think still had her makeup on, overtook me.
Dang it!
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