Have you ever found yourself in a situation where your mind was telling your body to do a sport or a hobby that you've always loved to do and that you knew you could do, but then you hear your body suddenly talking back, "Are you crazy?!"

Sounds familiar? Is it because maybe:

(a) domesticity has taken over your life? or;
(b) you are stuck at a desk job? or;
(c) you are a couch potato?

Being a mother and having a job that allows me to work from home, it is (d) all of the above unfortunately for me, and it's that lethal mix of inactivity that did me in.

My love for hiking and exploring the outdoors from my younger days was for years put on hold; the leather of my trusty old pair of trekking shoes had long gone brittle. So when an opportunity came for me to volunteer to carry donations to a remote barrio in the Cordilleras, I giddily signed up right away, counting on the one full month I still had to condition my body. No big deal, I thought. Volunteers would only have to bring a couple tiny school bags over a four-hour hike that even beginners were invited. No sweat. And HEY, to visit the Cordilleras, I would never pass up an opportunity like that.

Within the week that followed, though, the realization that I was in far worse shape than I thought painfully set in. I would wheeze halfway up the steps to the Quezon Avenue MRT station. Even just picking up clutter from the floor would leave me breathless and dizzy. P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C. Those were enough signs for me to back out of the mission and settle to just make a donation instead.

I was really bewildered because I used to be able to join casual climbs and hikes on short notice. But I left out a very important detail apparently - that was YEARSSS ago. Family and work have since been my priorities, not noticing the unwitting casualties along the way: my calf muscles for one.

The day I withdrew from the Cordillera mission was a turning point for me. The first thing I did was I pulled up a photo that my nephew sent me years earlier and made it my desktop's wallpaper. It was a picture of my nephew bathed in a golden hue, behind him a backdrop of endless cottony clouds. It was sunrise at the peak of Mt. Pulag - the second highest mountain in the Philippines.

When I got that photo the first time, I just had a passing thought, "Someday I'll go there," but it was more of a wishful thinking considering I had a multitude of things to take care of back here on Earth! But staring at that photo again, I made a pact to myself that a year will not pass without me setting foot on that same spot.

From then on, I faithfully set aside time for exercise. Since my muscles were so wasted to such an extent that I couldn't join a gym class without embarrassing and possibly injuring myself, I decided to do beginner's yoga first at home which I coupled with jogging. At the same time, I also surfed for mountaineering clubs on the Web that I could join. Yep. I. Was. Determined. And I intended to bring my family along for the ride. It was a good three months before I was able to build up enough strength and confidence to do a minor climb (Mt. Daguldul), and it was also around that time that my family joined Sikap Bundok and underwent the Basic Trekker Course.

It wasn't long after that that I found myself hanging on for dear life out of a six-story building doing a crazy stunt people refer to as rappeling. In contrast to my sorry state just months earlier, this time it was my mind hollering out, "Are you crazy?!" much to my body's amusement.

Since then, through Sikap Bundok as well as independent efforts, I have done things that just a few months back I wasn't certain whether I could ever do again, and things that I never knew I would ever be doing at all, period.

In only a matter of months, I have climbed Mt. Dagulgul, Mt. Batulao, partially climbed Mt. Pulag (our first attempt was foiled by bad weather), have gone parasailing and whitewater rafting (which were firsts for me!).




But the biggest surprise of all, especially to myself, was that I reached the peak of Mt. Kinabalu, the highest mountain in Southeast Asia! Yeah, you read that right - HIGHEST. IN. SOUTH. EAST. ASIA. And to think I only dreamed of nailing Mt. Pulag! And the year is not even over yet =)

Don't surprise me with a dinner at Vivere Skyline or Via Mare with that fantastic view of the city lights. In fact, don't bother impressing me with the finest dining experience on this special day. Don't bring me to that hottest Valentine dinner concert. Don't take me on that sunset cruise.

Instead, let me whisk you off to an empty rice field where we can lay by a lone mango tree beneath the endless starry expanse of the night sky.

Or to a rocky beach by the side of the highway where no one cares to stop by and we will just listen to the crashing waves and gaze at the moon's reflection over the water's horizon.

Let me lead you into the woods where we'll find a clearing and hear the rustling leaves of the trees around us.

Let me take you away to a mountaintop and let the breeze sing us her lullaby...

That's the perfect gift you can give me on this day that we celebrate us.

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This is just a very short clip. I wanted to make sure it worked first before uploading a longer video.

insomnia

I've been having trouble sleeping since yesterday. Tonight, just past midnight, I got up, fixed myself a cup of hot soup and toasted bread to try to finally get me to sleep. Then I sat down, sleep still not coming, and then out of nowhere, it hit me. I'm probably starting to miss my friend, and I didn't even know it, until now.

good news but...

Yesterday she finally got the results of her Australian Dental Boards exam, and she passed two-thirds and only had to take a supplemental exam by year-end. It's the climax of a two-year journey towards passing the Aussie boards. I've been rooting for her all the way.

Up until just an hour ago, I've been thinking it's still a year away before she leaves. Then it struck me -- hard -- it's ONLY a year away.

All this time, I've always thought how cool it would be to be able to visit her in Australia, plus the perk of having a place to stay! HAH! Now it just dawned on me how things will never be the same again.

flashback

I can say that one way or the other, we've been witnesses to each other's lives. I'm not sure, but I think our friendship started during the most critical phase of my college life, trying to balance those stubborn, damned dentures haha

Well, anyway, we were also roommates while preparing for the dental boards. Ah, brings back memories: looking out the window (we were on the top floor) salivating over the hip, newly-opened Burger King joint (back then), enjoying fireworks, listening to The Corrs and the Indigo Girls, getting a second chance at life every time we survived another rickety elevator ride.

I didn't get to take the boards with her that December, though, due to a ridiculous university policy. I took it in May the following year, and thus setting a pattern of me following her lead, making her somewhat of a mentor in my immediate post-graduate life. She signed up for the OPD-PGH oral surgery externship after passing the boards; heck, I signed up also. She got an abstracting job at Adis; I asked her to get me in too. If not for the Adis stint, I probably wouldn't have stumbled upon my line of work right now, and I'm forever indebted to her for that.

concerts

I was able to drag her to an early Paolo Santos show, back in those days when a mid-week, 30-minute night slot was all Paolo had that proved of his existence. His "Mr. Acoustic" wasn't a household name yet then, and his featured guest was a group of blind rondalla players (now how's that for coolness?).

Over dinner before the show, I remember my friend getting anxious as to what I was getting ourselves into. I was getting embarrassed myself with what I thought was a poor choice for a girl's night-out. But as everyone now knows, Paolo Santos is Paolo Santos. The show was fantastic, and we followed him into mainstream like groupies.

Then we were a group date * wink wink* at the Michael Buble concert. But, well, that's another story...

et cetera

Then even my unica hija Gravy, a bassethound, came from her Shitzu's first litter. She named her bassethound Shitzu. Go figure.

We never got to go to Sagada. We've been planning on that since college. Maybe in a couple years or so, she'll be coming back like one of those balikbayans who will tour the Philippines in a span of a month's visit. I'll make sure we'll nail that Sagada then.

reluctant cheerleader

Now I know cheering for her throughout the remainder of her quest will extract emotions from opposite poles of my being. It will both be joyful and painful.


to my friend...
My alcohol, caffeine and nicotine buddy, OktoberFest companion, my once-upon-a-time badminton pal, my friend. She's surely going to be missed....