Run Eboy Run! - The Birth of a Blogsite

Hi! My name is Ricky. Most of my friends, workmates and colleagues call me by this name. Some call me Kiriks, which is a cooler, hipper spin on an otherwise common name. Somebody tagged me with this name several years ago and it has stuck ever since. But one very close friend in particular – let’s call him Dogears (no, that’s not his real name) – calls me Eboy. Though it sounds like a loony abbreviation for the juvenile “Rickyboy,” for me it’s a comfy moniker that captures the brotherly bond between us – one that is forged by long years of friendship going back to our high school days.

I am a runner, or at least that’s what I consider myself to be. I started running in the early part of November 2009 as a way of getting in shape. You see, at that time I weighed about 205 lbs and was getting heavier by the day. That and my not so tall stature – I’m only about 5’ 7” – made for a somewhat portly appearance. And while I refused to accept that I was growing bigger, my clothes kept reminding me otherwise. The buttons and holes on my shirts were refusing to make contact. And when they did, any sudden movement would send the buttons loose and flying. The same with the pants zippers which refused to go all the way up but just stopped midway through the climb. As I kept on growing, my wardrobe just kept shrinking.

Needless to say, I’ve had my share of the diets. Anything with “no,” “zero,” “less,” “light,” “reduced” or “substitute” in the label I’ve tried. Normally, I would lose some of the pounds off with each new diet but only to gain them all back later with a vengeance. I’ve also tried eating greens and even developed some favorites like tossed green salad with porkchop vinaigrette and green basil pesto sprinkled with pasta and garnished with a slight touch of half-chicken. Again, I’d lost a few only to gain more. I’ve even tried using belt wraps that didn’t actually work but let you lose weight anyway by not allowing you to breathe. Sadly, mine was a narrative typical of anyone who has waged a war on the weighing scale… and lost…constantly.

I was scared – for myself and my family. I was feeling the signs: shortness of breath after a few steps up the stairs; gasping for air on short walks from the office to the eatery; overall feeling of weakness and recurring dizziness especially as the day winded down. I was feeling a host of other ailments in my body, maybe some of them imagined, and I was terrified. I was a heart attack waiting to happen and I knew it. Funny, I was supposed to be at an age when life should be starting but instead I found myself grappling with my own mortality. Somehow that put some sense into me.

I first got interested in running from another close high school friend of ours. We call him Ranny because that’s his real name. One of his Facebook photo albums, which is aptly captioned “Running Is A Lifestyle,” features a collage of race bibs from the numerous races that he has joined over the years in different countries here in Asia. Obviously, he is fit. His well-toned body is worthy of a sports magazine cover (without the clothes, he’d probably make it to centerfold). Whenever he’s home on business or for a visit – he works in Hong Kong – he would share some of his experiences and insights on how running has become a way of life for him. His calm demeanor seems to have stemmed from years of being alone with his thoughts while running countless miles – a mark of a true “Master Jedi Runner,” as we would call him, less the pointed ears, sparse hair and green membranes.

I was inspired by his story but I was mostly impressed with his commitment. I realized then that I did not need another diet but a change in lifestyle. So I started running sometime in November. First, there was more walking than running; but slowly I really began to run although just for short distances. It wasn’t until Dogears told me that he was joining a 5K fun run in December that my enthusiasm was fully awakened. I joined him in his next race and I got hooked eversince.

Suddenly, running has become the predominant topic in the email exchanges among us three. We began sharing tips and even updated each other on our training and progress. And in one of those emails, seeing how I had been practicing hard in between races, Dogears coined the words “Run Eboy Run” in his reply, obviously a parody of the famous line from a well-loved movie that portrays life as a box full of chocolates (no, it’s not Willy Wonka). Since then, it has become a silent battle cry for me, chanting the same words over and over to myself each time I run, whether in practice or during actual races. Somehow, I feel energized by each utterance, giving new vigor to my legs whenever I want to go that extra mile.

Now, several 5K & 10K races and nearly 25 pounds later, I feel like a new man. I no longer gasp for air, only when I’m running. Most of the ailments have dissipated too, replaced only by minor ankle pains, muscle constraints and leg spasms – nothing that can’t be cured by more running and a strong liniment.

I feel more determined and committed than ever; and so now I’m raising the bar higher as I aim for my first half-marathon (21K) in three months and my first full marathon (42K) ten months down the line. This blogsite aims to chronicle that journey – one stride, one kilometer, one race and one pound at a time. But while I would be writing mostly of my experiences, my real desire is to plant in you, my dear friends, the same seed that was planted in me by my close friends and now fellow runners. I want you to also discover the joy of running, not just a way of getting in shape or losing the extra weight but as a way of life. Sure the melted fat and nicely toned body would make it all worthwhile, but the real reward comes from the inner strength that will be forged from enduring the pains and difficulties along the way. In the end, while crossing the finish line crystallizes all those hardships in one moment of glory, it’s the run that gets you there.