5K + 10K = 15K Race

One of my hobbies is collecting race shirts. Unfortunately, that means I have to run a race in order to acquire that race's t-shirt. What started out as Honor Society browny points incentive in Track & Field extra curricular activities in high school, brought me as far away as Ireland for the Dublin Marathon (for the record, a marathon is 42.195 kilometers long), through the the hills of Bellingham, WA for the Chuckanut 50k Ultramarathon, and now to Cebu for the Mandaue Run For Life Race.

I invited Cousin Obet to join me.

"You want me to do a marathon with you?" he asked.

No, not a marathon; a 5k run, I replied.

"Sure!" Cousin Obet accepted. "You think we can take top 5 five ranking for the purse?"

(My head feels ithcy...)

No way in hell! I thought to myself.

And to Obet I said, I'm aiming for sub-forty.

"Oh, I bet I can finish in 15 minutes..." he said pensively.

(Scratching my ithcy head...)

No WAY in hell! I said to myself.

"Maybe even 10 if I hurry..." he insisted.

(Scatching hard...)

NO WAY IN HELL! I screamed to myself.

When Cousin Tata heard about this, he announced "I'm doing a marathon too! But it's only 3k."

(Scratching my extremely itchy head!)

Hmph. Nevermind. Anyone got Head & Shoulders I can borrow?

Runs in the Philippines are diverse, varying by distance to accommodate runners of various levels. The Run for Health Race had a 3k, 5k, 10k, and 15k. I was so tempted to do the 10k, as my chances of placing top ten would be better than in the shorter races. But when I found out that there were over 200 registered 10k-ers, I backed out. I'd rather enjoy a leisurely 5k, than suffer through the damp heat of a glorious Cebuano morning twice as long.

We picked up our race packet three days before the race. This was going to be Cousin Obet's first official race, and he was so proud of it.

And anxious.

And excited.

And nervous.

He'd been wearing his race singlet in the days prior to race. Perhaps it was a way of mental preparation, as it was too late to physically prepare for it at this point.

Or, may it's never too late to prepare for a race. Here he was, just hours before the race, performing a drag queen number at our family's Grand Reunion Celebration.

I grudgingly set my alarm clock to 4am. This means I'd have less than 3 hours of sleep that night. Needless to say, I snoozed right through the beeping of the alarm clock, and bolted out of bed only when I heard the door bell ringing. It was 4:36am, and Obet was just getting there to pick me up for the 5:00am start.

Ack!

Lucky for me, even timed races go by Filipino schedule. The gun did not go off until 5:31am at the start line.

Determined to win one of the purse prizes, Obet took off in a mad sprint.

Get out of his way! Get out of Obet's way, I joked to myself. Obet is winning the race!

I lost sight of him for the first 5 minutes. And then I caught up to him, exhausted, panting hard. I jogged up beside him and said "hello Obet!"

No response.

I waved my hand in front of his face.

No response.

Hmph, doesn't he see me? I guess this is Obet's version of the proverbial runner's high.

So I left him alone, and ran ahead.

I was proud of myself for finishing 10 minutes sooner than I hoped. Obet came in not much later. "I found inspiration in a beautiful pair of ivory complected legs that belonged to a lovely lady in short shorts," he said. And then he declared "I could really get used to this!"

Obet, you naughty boy! The legs, or the running?

I kid, I KID!

(Agh, here I go putting my foot in my mouth again...)

Really Jelyn, I joke!

Maybe I should delete that part.

Then again, I won't.

This is not what Obet looked like when I passed him. But it's definitely what he looked like when he crossed the finish line.

"Next time," Obet said, "I'll do a 15k with you."

We'll see, I replied. I like aiming low so as not to disappoint.

We acquired a 10k race tag for a souvenir, and headed home tired, hungry, and high with euphoric adrenaline.

Everyone asked us how the race went.

Obet: "I finished the 5k so fast, that I decided to enter the 10k right after."

King (Obet's younger brother): "so you ran 10 kilometers?"

Obet: "No, silly! Five plus ten is fifteen. I ran fifteen kilometers!"

Mama Tiny (our aunt): "How long did it take you?"

Obet: "thirty-four minutes."

Ian (Obet's older brother): "Ah, so you could have done the 5k in less than ten minutes."

Seriously, does anyone have Head & Shoulders I can use? Or Nix? Maybe I have lice. My head is really, really itchy!!!

Tita Nida (Obet's mom): "Hmph, it's impossible to run from Lajog to Tubigon, back to Lajog, and all the way back to Tubigon again in thirty-four minutes. It takes twenty minutes alone to DRIVE from Lajog to Tubigon..."

Ah, Tita Nida, you saved me from scratching my head any more.

This is Obet's race number.

This is Obet running on the street in front of our house, posing for pictures.

In my rush to leave the house that morning, I forgot to bring my camera. So we took pictures AFTER the race.

Post race re-fueling.

Ah, buwad (dried salted fish).

And finally, we zonk out!

Good job, Obet! Good race. I hope this will be only the first of many more races for you to come.

Celebrating our Heritage: Labella Clan Grand Reunion

A word of pardon first. I don't know every relative by name. In fact, I've never met a lot of my relatives until this day. So, for those of you who know the faces that go with the names, please forgive me for any mistakes I may have made, and please, PLEASE leave a comment to correct those mistakes.

Your's Truly

Netty

At long last, the event that the entire family had been waiting for all year had finally arrived. The Labella Clan Grand Reunion. The last reunion was in    2000    1999, so this one was purported to be the reunion to out shine any other. So everyone made sure to look their best.

This is Cousin King, giving Cousin Bing a makeover. And that's yours truly, in the very back with the camera.

True to Filipino form, the three of us were late to the grand event. One and a half hours late, in fact. But no one noticed because there were just too many Labellas milling all over the place.

And to add to the festivities, Lolo just had a birthday three days before!

Lolo is the only living link that our generation has to the patriarch of the Labella Clan.

The reunion event had been meticulously planned, from a theme, down to the nitty gritty of who was receiving the Always On Time (so very un-Filipinolike) Award, that would have been Cousin Rita; and the Best Performance Award, who was the Auring Branch of the Clan, and supposedly the biggest competition again this reunion.

The meticulous planning also included color coded uniforms to distinguish the branch from which each Labella came. I will name off the branches' colors as best as I know:

Tinyong - lime green.

Cenciong - fushchia.

Speaking of which, pardon me while I reminisce on a joke about that color.

There were two contestants left in a drag queen beauty pageant, and the winner was to be determined by the final interview. Each queen was asked "What is your favorite color?"

Miss Bohol answered "Fuschia-red!" with such enthusiasm. After all, that was the color of the garrish, bodacious, most obnoxious ruffly gown he.. er, she wore. And no wonder, fuschia-red is a very powerful color, that only a rare number of brave fashionistas dare to wear.

"Miss Bohol," continued the MC, "would you please spell fuschia-red."

Miss Bohol was suddenly flustered. He - I mean she... or he... fine, SHE was so busy getting voice lessons, dancing lessons, walking lessons, picking out just the right gown for the pageant, that she forgot to study for the interview portion of the competition.

For those of you non-Filipinos who are reading this, you might not get the humor in it unless you are familiar with the Filipino accent. My name, for instance, would be pronounced nitty, which is quite disturbing because it sounds like an implication that I have lice. I had lice as a kid. What islander never had lice?! Anyway, that's besides the point, and I'm starting to veer off subject here. To finish the joke...

Miss Bohol, at a complete loss for any saving grace, finally stomped a foot on the stage floor, threw a sequenced gloved hand up in the air in defeat and announced dejectedly "Hay! Red nalang oy. R-I-D!"

So, where were we? Branches' colors:

Auring - rrid, I mean red. Ay nako, buko!

Coling - sky blue.

Sima - violet.

Felisa - orange.

Irene (pronounced Eerie-nee) - yellow.

Yours truly comes from the Irene Branch, and our uniform was yellow. Bright, sun-shiny, happy, win strong YELLOW.

Miss Panggangan, please spell yellow, and use it in a sentence.

"N-G-E-L-O... you drrink tuba no? Kay nang-ngelo gud your teeth."

Bow.

Alright, alright, enough with the jokes.

Dadang - gold.

Iyay - brown.

Or, it might be the other way around: Dadang brown, Iyay gold? I don't know these relatives. And this is EXACTLY why every family ought to have reunions - to reconnect with our kin. Which is exactly what happened on that joyful day!

There was so much happiness and tears of joy for seeing long separated fathers...

Cousins...

Nieces...

Nephews...

Sisters...

It was a time of novel experiences.

This was Jonjon's first time to meet the relatives other than his mother's siblings.

It was a time of introductions...

Richard, meet your cousin Jon. Jon, Richard.

It was a time of re-acquainting with kin who were wee little boys that last time you saw them...

This is my nephew Ryan.

Last time I saw him, he was a half naked baby, sleeping on the floor at my grandfather's funeral.

And a time of finding out that we are actually related to a TV icon.

The beautiful Cousin Cara of ABS/CBN Cebu.

The event itinerary included a Remembrance Ceremony, to honor the memory of our deceased patriarchs and matriarchs.

Lolo is paying his respects to his late father, Tranquilino, the Patriarch of the Labella Clan.

And then each Labella Branch came up to pay their respects to their fathers and mothers, the children of Tranquilino.

The Felisa Branch.

The Sima Branch.

The Dadang Branch.

The Tinyong Branch.

The Irene Branch.

As the Mistresses of Ceremonies (Cousins Ethel and Cara) said:

"The largest contingent of the Labella Clan!"

Lola Irene had 10 children.

Those 10 children had 40 children in all. Forty 1st cousins have children, so many that I have to use an abacus to figure it out. And some of those 1st cousins already have children of their own! Ay, it makes me dizzy to think how many crazy relatives I have!!!

What happens when you have a hall full of crazy relatives?

CRAZINESS happens!

Remember the The Fiesta post, where crazy relatives were dancing in a driveway? Well, here's the culminating purpose for it.

CRAZY. CRAZY. CRAZY. AND I LOVED EVERY MOMENT OF IT!!!

And of course, the Auring Branch took home the winning trophy for Best Performance again.

Their performance was a dance skit of how Lola Auring left her siblings behind...

... and sailed from the innocent and quiet island of Bohol to seek opportunity in the booming and industrialized city of Cebu, where she eventually brought some of her siblings after she settled down.

Henceforth, the Labella Clan spread to the far reaches of the world. To England, Italy, Japan, Micronesia, Guam, America, Canada, Australia.

Work has brought the Labellas to the Middle East, across the seven seas on ocean liners.

Competition has brought the Labellas to Ireland to run a marathon - sorry, yours truly just had to throw that one in.

Bravery and patriotism has brought the Labellas to Iraq and Afghanistan to fight wars.

Most endearingly, the heart of the Labella Clan still remains in the homeland, strong, dedicated, and devoted as they wait to welcome home those who crossed bigger seas and oceans in search of their own fortune.

Well, I hope you haven't fallen asleep at the monitor at this point. I forgive you. I know exactly how you feel, going through this seemingly endless post. We went through the same thing at the Reunion, waiting for the event itinerary to draw to a close.

Good night my loving Lolo, tias, tios, cousins, sobrinos, grand sobrinos, and friends.

The Labellas have left the building.