My Ultramarathon-Prayerful Experience

Everything hurts. That was my overwhelming feeling when I embarked on my very first ultramarathon experience, stretching all the way from Davao City’s People’s Park to Digos City’s Dawis Beach Resort on September 7-8, 2024. The gun start was at 9:00 p.m., and by 1:05 a.m., I had already covered more than half of the race – a remarkable 32 kilometers. The thought of surrendering screamed in my head as I realized I still had another 30 kilometers to endure to complete the entire race within the cut-off time. My hamstrings and plantar fascia (the bottom of my feet) were throbbing with pain, reducing my strength and slowing my pace.

As I approached the aid station, an attendant offered me a variety of food, drinks, and even a foot massage. However, I opted for a cold soda to regain some alertness. With the first sip, I noticed one of my teammates, who cheered me on, saying, “Padayon lang bai; conserve energy! Kaya lagi na!” Then, I asked myself, “Conserve energy? How?” The instant answer that came to mind was to pray while running at a slow and steady pace. Remembering that it was the feast of the Nativity of Mary, I began to repeatedly chant the Hail Mary prayer as I continued the long road through Sta. Cruz.

However, I was constantly bothered by the intense joint pain in my left leg, which led me to ask myself a series of questions driven by angst and frustration: Why did I join this extremely tiring activity in the first place? What was my true motivation? What was my purpose? For the record, that compelling question about my purpose for running put me into a reflective mode because I couldn’t think of any profound reason why I had decided to take on the ultramarathon. Was it peer pressure? The desire to take on a greater challenge? Or perhaps pride? I wasn’t sure of the answer, but one thing was certain: I was deeply inspired by other older participants who had completed marathons or even ultramarathons, and I wanted to give it a try.

Gasping for air, I checked my watch and realized I was about to cover 48 kilometers. I couldn’t contain the feeling of accomplishment for having come so far. To keep my desire to complete the race burning, I decided to think of happy thoughts, but my mind continuously shifted to the insistent thought of my sense of purpose, and my yearning even escalated to a higher level: What is truly my purpose in life?

This question led me to the movie entitled “Ordinary Angels,” an inspiring true story released in 2024. The film follows a determined hairdresser named Sharon (played by Hilary Swank) who rallies her community in Louisville, Kentucky, to save the life of a child named Michelle (played by Emily Mitchell) who requires an urgent liver transplant. Sharon is extremely driven and committed to helping the child, with one reason in mind: you must do something bigger than your life. However, as the movie progresses, it is revealed that Sharon is struggling with alcohol addiction due to a deep conflict with her son stemming from a dysfunctional family background. This revelation magnifies one negative aspect of her motivation for helping the child – she is doing it for herself. Sharon is driven by the burden and guilt of her past; and Sharon is doing it simply because she wants to prove to her son, who holds a deep disdain for her, that she can achieve greater things.

The movie had prompted me to delve into my connection with God. I began to question the true motives behind my passions for pursuing initiatives in line with our Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) programs that aim to assist the underprivileged, my regular attendance at mass, and my relationship with Christ. Was it driven by the anticipation of rewards in the afterlife?

For a moment, I felt a sense of emptiness and opted to apply alternate between running and walking to preserve energy for the final stretch. Then, I took a deep breath and relished the sight of the dramatic shift from darkness to sunrise. I checked my watch; it was already 5:30 am, and I noticed the signboard by the road: “Welcome to Digos City!” A surge of strength overcame my doubts. I took a photo of it and sent it to my wife, assuring her that I was on the verge of completing the race. I maintained my fastest pace for the last five kilometers. Upon crossing the finish line, I raised my arms and exclaimed within my heart: “Thank you, Lord!” My legs were aching, but my heart was filled with joy.

As I sat down to have my meal, I revisited the question of my motivation for knowing and loving God. I concluded that, much like participating in events such as marathons or ultramarathons, being a believer in God is a commitment that demands a leap of faith. I may have doubts and question my beliefs, but I can act with confidence as if I am certain of His existence in my personal relationship and experience with Him. The race serves as a reflection of my life’s journey, and although the pains and hardships persist, it is a means of allowing Him to be by my side. (Francis Manayan)