I remember feeling overwhelmingly pumped-up for last year's National Open. It was my first major meet since the accident and I was aching to make up for lost ground.
I've always looked forward to the Nationals. My baptism of fire - my first college-caliber competition- came at the 2003 edition of the National Open. I made it as far as the semis in the juniors division in both 2003 and 2004. I could have done better in the latter if not for a back injury I sustained weeks before the meet. The team skipped the 2005 edition for a much needed break. By 2006, fresh from my breakout UAAP season, I finished 4th behind Orlando Soriano in the scorching-hot rice fields of Palayan, Nueva Ecija.
The memories of that cold December morning is still vivid. I woke up to the sound of a constant drizzle. It rained all night long. A rain-drenched track greeted me. I did not feel scared or intimidated, however, for I have trained in more difficult (and wetter) conditions. I recalled our "training camp" days when most of the team were away competing in Bacolod. In a sense, it was a precursor of the things to come. I could only laugh at the irony of things for wasn't it only last year when we competed under a burning Central Luzon sun?
Even though I'm used to the all the water, the coldness of that December morning caught me unaware. Each droplet of rain seemed to penetrate into my very bones. Every inch of my body was wet. Every article of clothing that I wore was soaking wet. I could hardly see behind my blurry eyeglasses. To make matters worse, I even brought the wrong set of competition clothes. I should have worn my trusty Nike tights, speedsuit and Adidas jacket instead of the Liu Xiang short-shorts and the 2005 Ateneotrack warmer I brought that morning.
As I waited for the start of my event, I could not seem to stop shivering. I wanted to finish the race as quickly as possible to change into dry clothes.
I told Mike to run in the first of the two heats since he wasn't able to bring warm-up clothes. I barely heard the retort of the gun amidst the rain. As the athletes in the first heat got out of the blocks, I immediately went to my lane to fix my starting blocks, impervious to the hurdlers in front of me (I make it a point not to watch the earlier heats). I went up to a race official, respectably of course, to wipe my glasses off his shirt since by then I could hardly see.
I was assigned to the second lane, with Soriano immediately at my right. As soon as the gun went off, I saw in my peripheral vision that Soriano and I were sprinting abreast. I cleared the first hurdle flawlessly and sprinted with such vigor that I slowly built up my lead. By the fifth hurdle (the middle part of the race) I could hear the loud cheering of my teammates, making me sprint even faster. I hit the 7th or 8th hurdle but my superior form kept me from losing balance. As I cleared the final barrier, I was alone. Finally, I've done it. I've won a heat! And I've beaten Soriano for the first time since UAAP 68.
I dove to the tape as if the race was a final. In fact, I felt so overwhelmed that I made a complete fool out of myself by raising both of my hands in the air, in a premature gesture of triumph.
Post-Script:
It turned out that Soriano was stricken by fever; hence, the lackluster performance. He eventually pulled out of the final. My teammate Mike edged me out for the gold. It was the first Ateneo 1-2 finish in a track event since God knows when.
