The longest days

For the past few months I have been looking forward to the Terry Larrazabal Bike Festival, which is scheduled this weekend. I have prepared as much as I could for the 3-day, 4-race event, considering the other obligations I have.

I was glad about the holiday last Tuesday, hoping that I'd get more quality training time on the bike without getting pressured of getting home at a certain time. Well, as someone said (not the Chinese), "Be careful what you wish for…"

My plan was to ride solo to Barili and back to Cebu City. But since I had all morning to myself, I decided to go to Aloguinsan instead via Mantalongon, Carcar. Mark Ylanan, who I caught up in Naga, and was riding up to Guadalupe, Carcar, convinced to try the new roads there. I haven't been to that part of the world since the early 90's when it was still unpaved so I made the decision.

Indeed, the downhill ride to the sleepy town to this southwestern side of Cebu was exhilarating- minimal traffic and cemented roads. I then grabbed an octopus stew for breakfast at the Aloguinsan Market before setting off at around 8am.

A few minutes later, I saw people lining the streets, animated. I thought that maybe it was a barrio fiesta, with all the buntings crisscrossing the road. A few hundred meters ahead, the same thing happened, this time, cars were parked along the sides. I was thinking, "campaigning", especially with the barangay elections in less than two weeks time.

In one short uphill span where my speed slowed down, a woman came running towards me asking if I felt the earthquake. I nonchalantly said, "No". I immediately thought about home and said to myself that maybe they didn't felt it. I called phoned but got no signal.

I finally got a call from my wife in Toledo and she told me of the horror she and the kids went through and how powerful this one was than last year. Even at that point, I still thought that it wasn't that bad.

However, there was more resolve on my part to get back home as fast as I can but I wasn't feeling fresh and there was still the climb to Lutopan. Another friend on a motorbike, Don Villanueva, passed by me and told me that the epicenter was somewhere in Bohol. Now, I thought, this is really serious.

I finally got home at about 12nn, after passing through a fallen house in Naga and a broken glass wall in Talisay, and then I finally realized how bad things were. I called up my father in Tagbilaran and who was clearly shaken but physically fine.

Thanks to the Internet and FB, we all saw the devastation the tremor brought in the next few hours and it was indescribable. I felt guilty for my absence at home when the earthquake happened and the aftershocks, well, it's playing on my mind.

Cycling is the farthest thing in my mind right now, while family is front and center. I have decided not to join the TLBF anymore but I doubt if it helps. I try very hard to think logically and put things in perspective but old instincts canoverride logic when nerves are stretched taut.

The road is long but there is no doubt that we can rebound. We're too resilient as a people to lie down and accept fate.