Ghosts

Halloween is just around the corner and so I thought it would be timely to write something about ghosts. Unfortunately (or fortunately, that is), I can’t claim, as Haley Joel Osment’s character famously did in the 1999 thriller The Sixth Sense, that “I can see dead people.” In fact, the closest paranormal encounter I’ve had was with the highly dubious “Headless Woman” who apparently only revealed herself to grade schoolers of the Ateneo during “class nights” (sleepovers in school) in the 1970s. I did, however, have a near-death experience just last Oct. 18 when I ran in the Quezon City International Marathon (QCIM). I kept cramping the entire second half of the run and it was pure hell. It was the closest thing to dying that I have ever felt. I sincerely declared to my wife right after the race that it was my last marathon ever. Yet despite my dreadful experience, here I am just a few days after, with swollen big toes willing, seriously contemplating running in the Pasig River marathon in less than three weeks time. It seems that I really do want to see dead people. I’ve written several articles about my passion for running in the past, but there must be another reason for all my marathon foolishness. Finally, I think I know what it is. I’m being haunted by a ghost.

I was a pretty decent runner in high school. I made the varsity team in my freshman year and even won a few races in inter-school competitions. But I somewhat lost interest during my fourth year. It also did not help that I contracted typhoid fever early that school year which left me feeling weak. Lacking the will to train hard, I feared that I was just going to get humiliated in the track and so I over exaggerated an injury and stopped running. The long and short of it is that I quit the team, of all times, on my senior year. As a result, I think that a small part of me died then. It is that ghost that has been bedeviling me up to this day. Of course, it’s not as if I’ve been on medication ever since, but memories of that decision have never really left my consciousness. It’s been stuck somewhere at the back of my mind like a spirit that just doesn’t want to “go into the light.” There were other reasons for sure, but I think that it is what ultimately pushed me to run my first marathon three years ago. For at its very core, especially to non-elite runners like me who make up to 99 percent of those who run it, the marathon is a constant struggle between continuing and stopping, between quitting and finishing the race. And so maybe it has been my way of trying to exorcise this ghost that has been hanging around me for almost 30 years now.

With this discovery comes the realization that I’m being haunted by other ghosts, too, as perhaps we all are. For all throughout life, it is inevitable that we all make mistakes or do things that we regret later on — some have to do with boyhood choices, some with decisions we’ve made as adults; some deal with family relationships, some with friends; some involve school, some concern work; and so on and so forth. Such is life. But I think that the important thing to remember is that we don’t necessarily need to hide from or to be scared of these phantoms. Just like Osment’s character in the movie, by acknowledging and accepting our ghosts, we can then try to resolve their underlying issues and attain some peace. Viewed positively, we can actually use our demons to live fuller and more meaningful lives. 

When my son woke up the morning of the QCIM, he cheerfully told my wife that he had some “good news.” He said that he had dreamt that I had overtaken the Kenyans near the finish line. What can I say except that he’s always had an overactive imagination! We all laughed about it afterwards even as he started eulogizing the end of my so-called running career by sorting and “burying” all my finisher’s medals in a small box (“This was when Daddy was 43, this was when he turned 45…”). I’m still not sure if I’ll run the Pasig marathon on Nov. 8. And no matter how many marathons I run, I also don’t know if I’ll ever get over quitting the track team in high school. But at least my children have seen me go to war seven times, come out of it beaten most of the time, yet remain unbowed. And that is one ghost that I hope will stay with them long after I’m gone.

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