Pak You Lolo! Pak You!

the devil has white hair and wears adidas

i was on my second lap around the ayala complex and lolo passed me three times already. i swear i heard him scoff at me. and i swear i heard him mutter... "sissy". and i swear i can hear his evil-max-alvarado laughter long after he's disappeared from view. pak you lolo! paaaak youuuuuu!

that of course happened only in my head, except for the part where lolo passed me three times on the road.

i really didn't feel like getting up from bed at four so i can keep my promise to jackie that we'd go running together. not when i spent the better part of my night vegetating in front of the TV watching movies.

by the time i parked my car behind immaculada, i was awake - blame it on a bottle of Lipovitan XL, i definitely needed the extra caffeine boost to get me warmed up.

mami: anak, gusto mo taho? anak: mami tama na taho, tumataba ka eh. mami: anak, kabag lang to.

ayala is unfamiliar territory. most of my runs were done in IT park and i've gotten comfortable with the flat roads. not ayala. set on slightly rolling terrain, a complete run around the ayala complex all the way to immaculada and including the marriott lot is approximately 2.9875 kilometers. me and jackie hopped on my car and did a full round, secretly delaying the run that was in front of us. her goal was to do at least 10K, mine was to survive.

dyos ko. pag tanda ko ganito rin kaya ang trip ko? eyrobiks?

i stopped at approximately 5.9874567 km and told jackie i'd wait for her while i warmed down.

kakabwisit naman, nagising ako!

the sun was just taking a peek off the horizon and i was breathing air that's still relatively pure, scented with morning dew on grass and the light smell of exhaust gas topped off with the hint of gaseous kili-kili power of the SWAT troop doing their morning jog.

pet owners strolled their dogs and kids ran up to the taho vendor as their parents and slightly geriatric men and women danced to a SALSA dance tune, music blaring from a small canter type truck, back open and housing mega speakers bigger than the wheels of the truck. i can imagine the neighbors' lovely expletives.

si kuya, pa simple pa. sige ka, bad yan sa heart. baka ma excite ka. tumigas yan. ang heart ha. heart.

hosted by the philippine heart association (cebu chapter), they call it "pasinghot sa ayala", which literally means "sweat in ayala". an aerobic instructor led about fifty men and women through simple but energetic dance moves that had them shaking their bonbons.

sige giling to the left, giling to the right. dito lang ako. sitting down.

women yes, men? i guess times are a-changing indeed. on the other hand, the men looked like they are having more fun than the ladies. i noticed that they stayed at the back portion of the line up and got pretty excited when the instructor hollered... "everyone... beeend forward. gentlemen, i said foooorward, not baaackward!"

by the time that jackie got back from her 11.1209456 km run (just an approximation), i had already gone around to take pictures of people. actually, they didn't know i was taking their pictures, more accurately, i was taking pictures of their cute pooches.

ma-i-nit. siberian husky eto, wala namang i-snow sa pinas.

a siberian husky sniffed me up before heading to a tree to do some "markings". for a brief moment i wished i was a pooch so i can go behind a tree and just spray the wind. ayala is not that "convenient" as there are no restrooms and places where you can buy water.

jingle bells.

one lady caught me spying with my camera and she brought her dog up to cover her face. PERFECT. I was taking a picture of the dog anyways. i mean, a hooded jacket would be nice as a disguise, but a shitzu is not an appropriate hair accessory, that or she forgot her face towel.

ate, ang cute ng face towel nyo, may tenga.

i walked around the park with jackie to cool down and coming right in front of us was lolo, running, not jogging, looking at us with that smirk on his face. toothless, but yes grinning from ear to ear. naka drugs ata.

i hate you lolo.

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