A Bend In The Road

My friend Enrique, running his first ever marathon at the California International Marathon (CIM), was starting to get utterly exhausted when he saw Mile Marker #26. Excited to finish and thinking that that was the finish, he began to sprint all out to the marker. What he didn’t realize was that the finish line was actually 285 yards more around the bend! The finish at the CIM was a straightaway of about one and a half miles, then two hairpin left turns. With the benefit of hind sight, he said that explained why there was hardly any fanfare at Mile 26. But he was enthralled to see the cheering crowd and the celebration when he made the turn at the bend.

Highland Road in Danville, CA. Picture taken
coming down from my grief retreat at San Damiano.

How interesting to see that sometimes our journey in life happens in a similar way. We go through life on a

straight path then suddenly there’s a bend in the road. Sometimes these turning points in our journey are not of our own choosing, but how we deal with them can define who we are. I met Joan at a grief weekend retreat. She was happily married for 30+ years when she lost her husband to suicide. She agonized in grief and guilt for quite some time, but after a few years she decided to go back to school even at her old age to become a grief counselor.

The road of life is never easy. Just when you think that yours is really hard, then you learn of somebody’s that’s even more tragic. In that same weekend, I met different people whose lives have been greatly affected by a death of a loved one. But one thing I saw common in all of them was that at the bend in the road, they hung on to their faith in God. They trust that that same bend in the road will actually lead them to God. I remember my son’s coach in track and field when he was running the curve in the 200 meters telling him to lean in. He said to counteract the force that pushes you outward when you run the curve, you need to lean into the curve. Trust those bends on the road are God’s, and then lean on Him.

This Sunday, on September 29^th, I will be running the Half Moon Bay International Marathon (HMBIM). Unlike the CIM, the Half Moon Bay Marathon has a hilly finish. It also has a dozen of hairpin twists and turns! But I’m actually thankful for those bends on the road up and down the hilly course because they allow for an easier and safer running. Imagine if you want to avoid the turns and just go straight up the hill, you would have to negotiate an extremely steep slope!

The HMBIM will be #33 on the road to my “50 x 50” goal. Fifty marathons by the time I turn 50 years old. I will also run this race holding a pink rose in honor of my wife; and I will also be running this race bringing with me your prayer requests. You can post your special intentions on this website, send it via email prayingrunner@gmail.com, or post in on my Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/prayingrunner. You can also show your support by running with me or liking my FB page to hopefully reach other people who need prayers. I hope to run into each one of you one day; till then Godspeed!

P.S. Remember my friend Enrique who ran the CIM? I’m happy that, in spite of running on empty, he dug deep and sprinted those last two turns to see what lies beyond the bend – a glorious finish!

Running, Grieving, and Meaning

It’s been a year and a half since my wife passed away after a long battle with breast cancer, but I’m only recently beginning to realize the fullness of what I’ve lost. Whoever said that the stages of grief come in an orderly progression was wrong. Grieving is not a neat and systematic process at all. It’s totally haphazard. It was much like my training for the Half Moon Bay International Marathon.

Some days were good. Some days were not.  To run was a struggle, but I tried hard to put a run in as often as I could. My skimpy training reflected my own attempt to create a picture of me doing something to move on with my life with my loss.

With a rose in hand, approaching the
finish line at the Half Moon Bay
International Marathon on
Sept. 23, 2012 in California.

I came to the race very guarded; but all that changed right before the start of the race. I was greeted by two runners, Michelle and Stacie with her family, who thanked me for what I do. Then, a few good friends, husband and wife Alvin and Michelle, Myrel, and Ja, who showed up as a surprise, to show their support. During the race, I ran into Chris, who is running to raise awareness for the Prader-Willi Syndrome and in honor of their daughter Grace, and who has been following my journey since he and his wife met me last year at the inaugural race. And also, Alva, who broke to me the sad news of Pete Mingwah’s death only a week ago. Pete, the ultimate and inspirational couch to ultramarathon runner, is like a brother to Alva. Then as the race went on, a few more runners who remembered me from last year and who recognized me as the runner with the rose gave me a shout out on the course. I met a few more runners – Patrick, Rachel, mother and son team Joanna and Paul, and Cynthia, who is race director of a trail and adventure race company, Desert Sky Adventures.  I also like to mention the volunteers and organizers who joyously and eagerly cheered me on throughout the race. The entire race turned out to be a blessing of an experience for me. Instead of feeling my loss, I realized what I had gained.

My run was for my wife. It was also for all the people I prayed for and those who asked for it on their behalf. As much as I remembered my loss during the run, I also recognized the caring, giving, and the affirmation I received from the other runners, volunteers, and organizers I met in the race.

Grieving, like running is not easy.  Grieving is not fun, unlike running.  But grieving and running, in the right direction, can be both nurturing.  There is joy and enlightenment that eventually grow out of them. It doesn't matter if the training was a mess, or if the grieving was disorderly. What matters is that you are at the starting line (again) to face an opportunity to grow, to change, and to be a better person than you were before.

Some excerpts taken from Widower: When Men Are Left Alone by Scott Campbell and Phyllis R. Silverman

A Re-Post. Praying for Families

At Mile 20 of the Annual California International Marathon in Sacramento, CA is an infamous water station decorated with an arch that looks like a solid brick wall. It’s scrupulously tormenting especially when you actually hit the wall when you get this far running.

That’s what happened to me in a marathon seven years ago. At Mile 20, I started to fatigue. I could feel spotty tingling cramping sensations on my calf muscles. My legs were starting to feel heavy instead of the fleet footed strides I did the last 20 miles. I started to worry for I knew I was bonking.

But I had to dig deep. When the body starts to fail, the mind takes over. I remembered what my wife gave to me at the starting line.  She gave me two folded pieces of note inside a Ziploc Bag.  She tucked it inside my fuel belt and told me to read it somewhere around Mile 20.

A note from my son to me
during the San Francisco
Marathon in 2005.

A note from my late wife
to me during the San Francisco
Marathon in 2005.

The first note was from my son. “Dad, you have 6.1 more miles. You can do it! I love you.” The second note was from my wife.  “Dear Love, I wish someday I’ll be able to run 10k easily, then ½ marathon, and then marathon. Thanks for inspiring me. Good job, Dad! Keep running! – Loves.”  Tears started rolling down my cheeks.  I looked up ahead of me and I started running one step after another.  I will finish this marathon with all that I have left for I can't wait a minute longer to see my family.


As you know, my wife was never able to run a 10k easily, nor a half, nor a full marathon with me. She did run a 10k in 2006 but it turned out to be a very difficult one for her. One month after that 10k, her cancer came back and metastasized. My son was 8 years old when he wrote me that note; he is 15 years old now. He is “retired” from running for now and is doing other sports. Even when my wife is not with us anymore, she and my son are still my inspiration to keep me going. Especially when I “hit the wall” in my life’s journey.

On September 23rd, I will be running the Half Moon Bay International Marathon in Half Moon Bay, CA. in prayer for your special intentions, especially for families who have lost a loved one or ones.  Send me your prayer requests by posting it here or on my Facebook Page, http://www.facebook.com/prayingrunner  or by sending me an email at prayingrunner@gmail.com.

Back page of the same note
written on the hotel pad.

From my wife during the San Jose
Marathon in 2006

Sharing with you another note I found recently that my late wife wrote to me during the San Jose Marathon in 2006. That weekend, she made every effort to go with me and stay with me at the hotel the eve of the marathon, even though she was in pain from her cancer treatments.

She wrote: Dear Love, I'm praying the rosary for you now and I will again tomorrow. I feel thankful for you offering this run to me. I feel very blessed having you do all the sacrifices to take care of me. Thank you so much for still seeing me as the home of your heart even if I don't look attractive and that I can't do most what I could do in the past. But I know I'll get better. I can still be "normal". I'm looking forward to that. I'm glad Tim and I are here with you. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH & SO MUCH. Loves, Jinky.

What Does It Take To See A Sign?

It was a 5k/10k trail run. The race director reminded the runners to watch out for the sign to indicate the split. I was running the 10k as a recovery run. I just ran a full marathon the week before; so I will just take it easy and not worry about my time.

Indeed I didn’t care about my pace; but I also didn’t pay attention to the sign. At some point in the race, I didn’t see anybody in front of me or behind me. But up ahead I saw what seemed to be a couple of volunteers and they were cheering me on.  “Great job!” “You can do it!” And a volunteer with a stopwatch said to me, “Your time - 21 minutes. 2 miles to go!” Then I went to a screeching halt! What? “Yes, sir! You are the first to reach Mile 4.” No way! I'm running a 5 minute per mile pace? Of course I could not!

And then I realized – I missed the sign. I took a wrong turn and got ahead of the leader by 2 miles.

What does it take to see a sign? Two things.

First, you have to be looking and paying attention.  Then you have to recognize what it means.

Last week, a good friend of mine lost his wife, Chris after a sudden illness.  This week, another family friend lost her husband, Dennis. Dennis was diagnosed of lymphoma last year. When I saw Dennis’s wife at Chris’ funeral, I told myself that I would visit Dennis. But I didn’t follow through. When I learned of his death, I felt bad for putting off visiting him. Looking back, I think Chris’s death was already a sign, but I ignored the meaning.

As a praying runner, I dedicate my runs to those who need prayers, especially to those who are sick. In addition to prayers, I also make an effort to either call them or visit them with the hope of giving them some comfort. Not only I do try to recognize signs, but I also try to be a sign of God’s loving presence.

I feel sorry for not being able to visit Dennis. But I’m taking this event as another sign.  I offered my last run to Dennis in prayer and promised myself to try even harder to be a sign of God’s love and mercy to people I pray for, especially to the sick.

If you have any prayer requests, please email me at prayingrunner@gmail.com, post it here, or in my Facebook page, http://www.facebook.com/prayingrunner. I am running a marathon in Half Moon Bay, CA on September 23 and I shall offer it in prayer for all your special intentions, especially for those who are sick.

(Reflection points taken from a homily by Fr. Michael Todd, O.P.)

Angels on Foot

"26.2 Miles of Running Heaven," pitches the Half Moon Bay International Marathon. Indeed the course boasts of a spectacular coastline view for much of the race. But I think the race is made much more heavenly by the supportive fleet of volunteers, staff, organizers, and enthusiastic race participants. I met a lot of angels on foot on this race.

"The runner with the pink rose!"

I've never felt such joy in running a marathon than HMBIM. My fellow runners were greeting me, smiling at me, giving me a thumbs up, running along with me, chatting with me, and even one runner, Sarah, crying with me. The spirit of caring was overwhelming. The beautiful people in every aid station cheered gloriously for me. They nourished me not only with water and sports drink but also with words of hope and encouragement. Knowing that I might not see the smile of these people again, I stopped by every aid station to share my story of what the pink rose is for and to show appreciation for their volunteering. I also stopped at around Mile 19 to enjoy the music of a trio and dance along. What is there to hurry when you hear beautiful music? I also promised to pray for the guitarist's mother who, I learned from him, has brain cancer. The spectators on the road also showed their good spirits, like one little boy shouted, "Here comes the runner with the pink rose!" Finally, the joy of victory at the finish line. I finished far from first place, but I definitely felt like a winner. With no less than the race director greeting me personally at the finish line, people clapping and cheering, and surrounded by the family and the high school friends of my wife who passed away from breast cancer six months ago.

I came to run this marathon to escape my grief after my wife's death; but instead, I experienced heaven and met angels on foot.

To my dearest wife, Jinky, I love you so much! I miss you terribly and how I wish you were still here to hear all about my race at Half Moon Bay. But today the pain was eased by the joy that I felt from the support of caring people I just met and from the love of your high school friends who was inspired to honor you and to do this run for you.

A pink rose for my wife

Joyfully approaching the finish line

My wife's family and friends, some of the angels on foot, in this heavenly run.

Friends For Life

Sometime last year, I kidded my wife, "You better get better, your friends from high school might get tired of visiting you." They come from all over the United States to spend time with her every time they hear news of her being hospitalized. They bring her favorite food, play her favorite music, do endless picture taking, and of course all night long reminiscing about their high school days in an all girls Catholic school many years ago.

In March this year, they all faithfully came again one Saturday, the 12th, to spend time with their friend. They were all in high spirits including my wife who tried to enjoy their presence. One of her friends described the day as truly heartwarming, but also heartbreaking. Not for long, my wife had to retreat to her bedroom and very somberly said, "I am getting tired now. I'm sorry I can't entertain you anymore." Six days later, she passed away. Her friends faithfully came again a few days later to bury her.

But so you think that would be the end of it. Not so fast. On Sunday, Sept. 25th, they are again coming together to celebrate her life. They will do a "Run For Jinky" at the Half Moon Bay International Marathon in California in honor and in memory of their beloved friend.

I will also be there to run along with them. I will be carrying with me a pink rose for the entire 26.2 miles...to remember my wife and all the people whose lives she has touched, especially her friends....for life even unto death.

Jinky with her high school friends, March 12, 2011.
She passed six days later.

Run for Jinky, In honor, in memory, and in prayer.
Half Moon Bay International Marathon, CA. September 25, 2011