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My TNF 100 experience: To Live & Die in Benguet


how high & how far we will be venturing...

how high & how far we will be venturing…

“That’s the hidden Mickey, that’s where we will be going up today”, says my trail guru BoyP during our reconnaissance climb for the TNF100.   He was of course referring to one of Baguio City’s most prominent landmark from afar.  No, not that ubiquitous lion monument along Kennon road.  It’s the Cabuyao double radar, our final cut-off destination (Aid Station 8) and yes, they do look like Mickey’s ears from galaxies away.  That was a month ago and now I’m on my way to AS8, partly struggling but with enough time to spare.  Visions of a glorious finish swirled and swayed in my head.  Then something unexpected happened…uh oh.

looking for free water sources...

looking for free water sources…

Holy Week saga with BoyP & DyepTones.

Holy Week saga with BoyP & DyepTones.

The North Face 100 ultra-trail marathon has been hanging above my head like the sword of Damocles ever since I failed to finish it last year.  It was the new Baguio-Benguet route which got every runner’s tongue wagging ever since only 33% of the runners crossed the finish line.  So they maintained for this year the same route to maybe give us DNFers some kind of redemption.  I gave up at KM53 last year and reconed KM 53-77, so I guess I have a pretty solid grasp of the whole scenario, right?  Well, guess again.  Surprises abound in this never ending journey and they never cease up to the final kilometers.

fun moments with the boys at the Manor

fun moments with the boys at the Manor

practicing self-photography for the trails ahead...

practicing self-photography for the trails ahead…

clowning around with Wilnar, Aldean, Rocky & Ron at the 50s Diner...

clowning around with Wilnar, Aldean, Rocky & Ron at the 50s Diner…

A college seatmate, Dr. Letty Loo-Chan, offered us slashed down rates at the Manor Hotel in Camp John Hay so there we were along with some H100 friends Aldean (TNF100’s #6 man!), Rocky, Wilnar, Ron, Benj, Damien, Jeyson & Mike preparing for the 3 a.m. race.  The race briefing at the Azalea Residences hours before had been quite unnerving with around 277 runners from all over the world showing up.  It was nerve-wracking and humbling (suddenly, the Philippines is in the ultra/trail world map!) but what got me on tenterhooks was when I realized I had left my race bib in Manila.  Fortunately, I had Team Kuliter Reylynne to help get me a new one from Race Director Neville Manaois.

The Azalea Race orientation...

The Azalea Race orientation…

with Benj & Mike before going to the starting line...

with Benj & Mike before going to the starting line…

And the quest begins here

At the starting line, everyone was in a high, acquainting mood but soon enough, most everyone had settled into a serious more sober mood.  Anxiety & uncertainty were bouncing off from runner to runner.  A few nervous smiles and & fervent prayers and then we were off.  It was the same rolling terrain we ventured in around the Camp as last year, minus my incessant coughing.  In fact, I was enjoying the romp which was already going downhill passing through endless stairways, snaking trails and small roads.  The city was nicely lit so there was little struggle finding my way around plus runners abound so I just needed to follow the parade of headlamps.  I had forgotten to secure my light with a cap so it was bobbing like hell.  It was dizzying but as in any trail race, one learns to make adjustments.  Along with pointed pebbles inside the shoes and fermenting blisters…

with Mike, Gigger, James, Majo & Benj at the start...

with Mike, Gigger, James, Majo & Benj at the start…

increased cardiac contractility coupled with arterial vasodilation...ninerbyos na ako!

increased cardiac contractility coupled with arterial vasodilation…ninerbyos na ako!

By 5:22 am, we reached AS2 18.4 kms with the light starting to creep in but barely.  I can already make out the trail terrain so there’s no need for the headlamp.  Fog was starting to thin out revealing the mountains we had trekked and are about to conquer.  Soon, the road began to go up, twisting and turning with no end in sight.  Whence last year, I had to keep stopping every few meters, this time, it was an easy continuous trek up varied by some reverse running to lessen the impact on the quads.  We were now venturing into pine forests with the elevation rising by the minute.

shadows and fog...

shadows and fog…

dripping wet & weary early on...

dripping wet & weary early on…

I joined Earl Warren Nabor (one of last year’s few finishers) as we continued moving on the stairway to heaven and eventually, descending into the sleepy town of Ampucao for our AS3 (24 kms) stopover at 7:55 am.   Excited to have finished quite early than usual, we chomped on some camote and continued walking while munching on a saba.  The heat had started to take on our wilting fatigued bodies and we were feeling wasted as the uphills commenced first on concrete narrow roads then into concave earth trails under the cover of giant pines.  I could no longer keep up with Earl’s strong cadence so eventually I had to let him go.

AS3 shot with Earl...

AS3 shot with Earl…

The Hills Are Alive

The uphills soon gave way to flat terrains along mountain summits leading to another descent into another elevation and so on.  The sights were nothing short of stunning as I chanced upon Joey Divino, a rookie but very strong runner.  Together, we marveled at the mists shrouding the adjacent mountain ranges and the boulder formations.  It always helps to have someone to hike/walk with – kills the boredom and shortens the distance, or so it seems.  For sure, the struggle is diluted and one’s antsiness is definitely delayed.

views to die for...

views to die for…

peaking with Joey...

peaking with Joey…

the Vale of Arryn?

the Vale of Arryn?

profile shot by Pride Rock...

profile shot by Pride Rock…

Finally, we entered the canopied world of the mossy forest, away from the heat and the glaring sun.  We recovered easily in the face of more uphills and some mean drops that we had to do some rapelling.  Around here that Powerpuffer Totoy joined us and picked up the conversation where Joey had left off (though Joey was still a few meters behind us).  The topic covered everything from aging, family and personal stories but the AS4 was still nowhere to be found.  We were about to venture into showbiz intrigues when trail suddenly sloped up and we were out of the shaded world (and the shady world of Kris & Gretchen).

photobombing Joey...

photobombing Joey…

Rolling in the Deep

At AS4, we hardly stopped except to replenish our liquid and solid provisions and soon, we were gliding down along 11 kilometers of downhill terrain intermittently made of concrete, hard soil and loose pebbles.  The sun was in its scorching high last year but this time, with an early lead (and a cooler temperature), a lot of Powerpuff push and good vibrations, Totoy & I were enjoying our descent.  If in 2012, I vowed to quit at this part (mostly due to a negative mindset), this year, there was no room for whining and surrendering.  I was just bent to reach AS5 the earliest time possible to give me enough headway for the crucial AS8 cut-off at 1 am the next day.

Rappelling magic...

Rappelling magic…

with the effervescent Totoy...

with the effervescent Totoy…

And soon there it was, after grinding the knees to bits, the behemoth of a mountain rock surrounded by a thick tropical jungle and cradling the wispy waters of the Bridal Veil Falls.

A few gasps away more and were at AS5.  It was 1:45 pm!  We will have enough time for AS8, for sure.  Unfortunately, I slowed down our group as I showered and downloaded and chowed on a full meal (salamat Team Bulalakaw, Marupok).

Bridal Veil Falls looking so glorious during the recon...

Bridal Veil Falls looking so glorious during the recon…

45 minutes later, we were penetrating the dark stone cliffs leading to the clouds.  My newly changed white NYCM long sleeve shirt was already drenched and we had hardly done 5  kms.  Suddenly, the frying heat, fatigue, bloatedness and sleepiness conspired to bring me to my knees and take respite, a few times.  I knew this kind of pace will not finish a race.  So I kept moving on with hardly any stops.  Finally a clearing ahead and the dowhills & fresh cool winds came.  It erased the bad memories of the hellish assaults before.  We got to AS6 (KM 64) at 4:25 pm and suddenly the possibility of reaching the summit at 10:00 pm seemed within reach.

early  call at AS6...

early call at AS6…

We welcomed two kings (of the other mountain) to our cavalcade on our continuous conquest of the concrete road.  Rocky & Alain are H100 co-runners who reached Mt. Ugo the day while everyone was conquering Mt. Pulag, thus the King of the Other Mountain monicker.  Soon the 2 kings were arguing as Rocky kept estimating the next stop which never came…

The night is dark and full of terrors

start of the many ascents...

start of the many ascents…

Fortunately, we came upon Berns Tan who promptly joined our caravan into the endless uphills (how many times have I used that word?).  Soon night and cold started setting in as we changed into our thermal base layer and jacket.  Under the cloak of trees & vines, it was tricky to find our way around but with Berns (who had reconed it 2x and is aided by her Garmin GPS) on the lead, we hardly got lost.

a trail of lights...

a trail of lights…

It’s a wonder how some runners had the nerve to even remove some flags and blinkers (hello!  That’s just P50 at Divisoria) which could mean life or death for a wasted runner groping in the dead of the night.  But that’s what happened according to the many marshalls strewn along the path.  Fortunately, we had Berns, period (did I say it already?).

We finally reached AS 7 at around 8:45 pm and hardly stopped since we were aiming to replenish at AS8 where we hear the food & drinks were overflowing.  Upon my insistence (or rather my roaring stomach’s), we actually had one stop pre-AS7 as I force fed myself to a trail bar.  Suddenly, no food would appeal to me.  Unexpectedly, my two-layers of long sleeved shirts were no longer shielding me from the gusty night winds on top of the highest peak in Baguio/Benguet.   It was a tad late when I put on my jacket.  I was shivering like hell and so I pushed myself towards Sanctuary, 3 kms away.

Finally at 10:15, it was there – the imposing Ambuklao Radar Center – beckoning me to rest & replenish.  It was a stop I had not imagined to extend.  But there I was after downing some soup forcefully, I vomited everything I had consumed for the last 2 hours.  I had to take a rest by the fireside to control my shivers and signs of an early hypothermia.  Uh oh, is this the end of the road for me?  Just 24 kms. Short.  That’s a little over a half marathon.  I rested my head a bit and dozed off…

dracarys!

dracarys!

Resurgum

A lot of prayers later (along with my prayer brigaders from half a world away), I took an antacid and started taking a rice-potato meal.  A few more gulps and I was back to life, enough reason for the medics to let me go.  That’s after lowering my blood pressure, as well.  I searched for a familiar face from runners resting by the station.  CJ Miles hadn’t reconed the last 23 kms but he was willing to join me on the way down.  And so it was the two of us taking the highly technical steep downhill trail at 12 midnight.  Fortunately, it was well marked with blinkers at crucial turns.  And so I flew like there’s no tomorrow.

Regularly looking from behind, I noted of CJ’s lights following me.  Over an hour later, I heard him pleading for help.  He had fallen off a cliff and was holding on a few strands of cogon.  After pulling him out by the cliffside, I was shocked to find another runner.  Allan Palomares said he had been following me for an hour.  So where could CJ be?  I backtracked a bit and asked the tandem of foreign and Filipino runners if they had seen my running buddy.  They said it had been Allan who’s been following me ever since I overtook them.

I cursed myself for being too eager to make the descent.  I promptly got a stern warning from Mr. Filipino runner for raising my voice.  Whether he was threatened or felt I was blaming them for my predicament I never bothered to know.  There’s just no time to deal with these macho posturings along the trail.  Time was ticking and I had to soar down, eventually catching up Allan.  It was a relief to be running along with another living soul in total darkness.  The downhills continued with hardly any end in sight.  Soon the rushing rivers and the concrete stairs came and finally, the AS9 or 16 kms. into the finish.

Tick, tock, tick, tock…

It’s 3:30 am and finishing the final 16 seems in the bag but Allan and I never dawdled.  And we were proven right as we entered a series of mazes within enclosed communities, many going up, up, up.  It felt like we had entered the Amazing Race, venturing into strange places and unlocking clues here and there.  On top of it were plantations where the only way is still going to the stars and so we trotted and plodded, resting a bit when most necessary but hardly stopping.  They say it was the final assault but of course, we don’t bite that as we hiked around fields and tree line trails (which we would later learn was already inside the PMA compound).

nearing the end with Allan...

nearing the end with Allan…

There was never a lack of the red and white flags but who knew if we were just going around in circles.  At night, everything looks the same.  Now where’s a Garmin when you need one?  And so we’d wake up the marshalls from their tents and ask for confirmation if we were on the right track.  Near the final part, we had to ask one marshall to take us to the final aid station because his “800 meters” turned out to be over 3 kilometers.

At AS10, we encountered Doc Doctolero and 2 other runners as we joined them on the final 11 kilometer of this saga.  We negotiated the Loakan Airport, traversed it (there were no planes whatsoever) and entered the busy streets of Baguio City.  And you guessed it – more ascents with some tilting to the sky.  Now who ever said of a glorious soaring finish? – with the TNF100, you thank the heavens that you crossed the finish in one piece.

take me higher...

take me higher…

mom, I just got bitten by a leech!

mom, I just got bitten by a leech!

We entered the DENR compound with more sharp uphills into Camp John Hay where we were made to traverse more hills.  At this time, the body had grown tired and the mind weary, one just keeps following the flags, zombie-like.  With enough time on our hands, we opted to just walk all the way to KM 100 (making sure we didn’t look too battered or molested).  Eventually, we entered the popular Yellow Trail and were welcomed by the smiles and thrilled greetings from the TNF 11-Km. runners.  A few more slopes and we were exiting the sides of the Le Monet hotel towards the finish line.

hello, civilization!

hello, civilization!

smiling and looking fresh 28 hours...

smiling and looking fresh 28 hours later…

all smiles with Mark, Jonel & Benj...

all smiles with Mark, Jonel & Benj…

28:12 - yeah baby!

28:12 – yeah baby!

And this is how my journey ends – me, twirling my trekking pole pal in the air to the roar of a few cheering crowds (mostly from friends Team Marupok) and enthusiastic greetings from Ultrafriends as I crossed the effing Finish Line, finally.  It was more than enough.  I only wanted to finish this race and He granted my wish.

happy 4/20!

happy 4/20!

sticking it proudly by the dental office...

sticking it proudly by the dental office…

The amazing pictures are courtesy of Quest Multisports (by Aldean Philip Lim), Dan Alvarez Sagayap, Running Photographers & Benj Termulo

the pic which was trending on Sunday c/o Van...

the pic which was trending on Sunday c/o Van…

chill out time at Tagaytay after the war...

chill out time at Tagaytay after the war…


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DNFing at TNF100


The Road to Baguio

After finishing this year’s Bataan Death March 160KM, I knew TNF100 was going to be my next ultra race, just 2.5 months away.  I wanted to keep the momentum going and my fitness level steady.  It took me a month to finally get in the groove while waiting for the knees to get back in shape.  In between I joined 10KM runs (Condura, PDA Run & Exterra Trail Run) just to keep my running stamina going.  Our mini-Team Kulit had resolved to be part of this prestigious trail run with Reylynne, Chinky and me taking on the 100KM and Sheila (plus Jenny) running the 50KM.

I did my weekday 8.8KM intermittent runs and weekly long runs supplemented by some swimming, gym strengthening and yoga.  2 weeks before, we climbed Mt. Pico de Loro followed by an overnight (6-hour) run to familiarize us on trails and moving sleep-deprived.  Arrangements for travel (courtesy of Chinky’s reliable Starex) and accomodations (again by Chinky) were finalized so all I had to do was prepare for my first ‘true’ trail/mountain run.  This is a complete departure from relying on a support vehicle (I can easily phone to get a massage, a drink and words of encouragement) I had gotten used to in my many ultraruns along the road.

Team Kulit planning for TNF

On a trail run, you lug your own food, drink and other implements which will take you to the next station before replenishing them.  Factor in the dark (it covers both the early morning and a 12-hour sunless period), the cold, the wildlife around (one runner got bitten by a snake) and the possibility of getting lost or not getting found when emergency is required and you have one jittery runner who’s only experience of mountain/trail running is negligible compared to the mountaineers and skyrunners who filled the slots.

Dawn at Baguio

Kuliters surveying Camp John Hay

We arrived in Baguio City at 7 am of Friday (20 April) with David/Paz behind the wheels to acclimatize to its cold temperature and thin air.  At 3 pm, we attended the orientation at the new R.O.X. inside Camp John Hay where I saw some elite runners (led by Iker Karrera), ultrarunners (Team Boring, Ungas, USB, Intensity were represented) and totally new faces, mostly Baguio mountaineers and sky runners.  After hearing not-so-encouraging and cautious words from the race director and medical head, we promptly took our dinner, prepared our supplies, arranged the logistics and soon dozed off.  As in any ultrarun, the longest sleep I would get was just 2 hours with smatterings of short naps in between.

Team Kulit with Paolo & Angela Osmena

Cougher runner

By 2:30 am, we were at the starting line along with the 162 100KM runners either dressed maximally (covered from head to toe and lugging loaded backpacks) or minimally (like marathon runners in the 70s).  No matter, the air was pulsating with nervous excitement at every angle.  Like bats out of hell, we were off along John Hay’s rolling terrain.  I joined Chinky and Rey but the endless coughing kicked in and I had to set my own pace and disappear in the dark, distinguished only by my hacking sound.  At one point, it had become unbearable I was gasping for air while heaving heavily, asthmatic-like.

with Team Intensity's Kharl & Nap Ocampo

with Chinky, Rey, Keshia & Sheila

But I just kept moving with the midpack crowd and soon I was breathing normally with minor bouts of coughing.

[Three weeks into the race, I had a series of minor diseases including viral intestinal flu, acidity, colds and cough, perhaps, due to some pre-TNF jitters.  Unfortunately, it followed me in this run.]

We moved around the Camp into their Ecotrails with only our headlamps to lead us through the tortuous route.  Another down trail and we were scurrying out of the city center.  I was enjoying the uneven terrain and soon found my footing when I found Rodel Montejo (Team USB) who helped me navigate the snaking narrow paths where one wrong step could mean imminent disaster.

glorious scenes at every turn

We were still in total darkness as we passed back streets and stone paths before emerging out into open fields where the sun was slowly forming an arc across the sky.  Rodel and I were doing an easy but relatively fast pace.  In between, we had our breaks to refill and take pictures.  At 6:14 am, we reached KM20 and joined his fellow USBers on the way down.  By this time, I was using a trunk to help me on my climbs and balancing.  It was a relief for the legs but added pressure on the shoulders and back.

banana break among the pine trees

up, up, up...

Later on, when the uphill terrains sharpened, I went on my own until I found another running/talking companion on the road.  He’s Jun Zapanta and just like me, he seems perturbed by the kilometers to burn for the next 26 hours.  But we kept at it, forging ahead and resting when necessary.  In between I got to walk/hike with Ambow (Allen Gaspar) who seems to be enjoying our endless jaunt even with the sun already in full bloom with an ocassional breeze out of nowhere.  Maintaining a constant pace, I found myself alone as I neared the KM29 station.

that's Jun with Ambow trailing behind

Mount Doom?

In the Company of Mountaineers

It was a relief to refill my empty bladder with cool water and take in something flavored and sweet plus bananas and the sweetest ‘camotes’ I’ve ever devoured.  While consuming the treats, I joined Boy Pra (Meljohn Tezon) and Major Ron Illana who was nursing an ocassional cramping.  The route just kept going up to heaven but I was able to keep up with the group, now made up of Baguio mountaineers led by Rashel Pena, Jules and Earl Warren Nebres Navor .  Our group was one solid pack for a good 5 kilometers until I couldn’t keep up with their non-stop pace.

the fellowship of the trail

just another hill to conquer...

At Philex ridge with Jules, Earl & Rashel (mountaineers all)

goodwill along the trails

Eventually, I found myself in the company of Boy Pra and Major Ron who seems to be more agile now.  Their pace was quite relaxed as we moved up along grassy hills then dramatically descending into the dark forest.  We did rappelling with thick nylon ropes twice and I surprised myself I could manage the balancing and descending/ascending act.  Unfortunately, my two companions seem to gather new energy and again, I’m left on my own.

breathtaking at first until becomes a breath taker (huff, huff)

Boy Pra in his signature topless look

The climb can seem deceptive since the path kept twisting on one side or the other.  But the angles hardly flatten, arduously moving up and up.  For a while, I had my trusty MP3 player to lull me out of the ordeal.  The perfect moment was when the music and the steps were in synch and the effort was non-existent.  The breathtaking terrain along the mountain profile was rolling but I was gliding until player (along with my camera) conked out and I was left on my own devices, trying to negotiate the down hills with minimal light steps.

all by myself (don't wanna be...)

one of the many scenes why TNF100 rocks

Spiral down

After what seemed like eternity, I finally found KM41.2.  I promptly replenished my food/drinks and started my descent.  And what a descent – the angle keels way too low one has to put on the brakes to avoid falling face down.  Unfortunately, it’s the knees which suffered the brunt so even if I wanted to give it a slight dash, I just couldn’t.  Besides, the path was either concrete, loose pebbles, irregular hardened earth so it was quite tricky.

down, down, down

But perhaps, the reason I had slowed down to a near walk was that I just felt drained and spent.  The sun was in its glorious piercing stage and many runners I saw along believe they’re dehydrated.  I also wanted to just rest my fatigued legs and throw in the towel but I’ll be doing that after 9 kms.  Meanwhile, I just have to keep going down.  After 2 hours or so, the station was still nowhere in sight.

By this time, I felt like a battered warrior who had lost a battle, longing for home and relief.  I chanced upon other mountaineers who were doing the downhill pilgrimage, cursing Neville (the race director) for the gruelling path he had mapped out.  If these experienced mountaineers are no longer continuing the race at the midstation, what chance have I got to keep going?  So it was decided there and then that I had reached my optimum energy and will be DNFing (did not finish).

My resolve just kept getting stronger as we went down hell’s corridor.  There seem to be no end in sight that I was imagining throwing my worn body on any flat surface to rest/sleep the rest of the day off.  Soon we were hearing the roars of vehicles but Kennon road was just mirage.  Finally, we caught sight of the Bridal Veil falls surrounded by a fortress of thickly forested mountains.  So this is where I’ll be going up?

the final scene going down...

End of a Journey

End of the road...

The final station of my voyage was KM55 and when I saw it, I knew I had found home.  Yep, it was a 13-km down hill ordeal from the 4th station.  I arrived at 4:10 pm, well within the 5 pm cut-off time.  But the sight of other runners who were splayed on every horizontal surface told me I might as well join them.  Boy Pra & Major have departed and I have no one I can latch on and take me along, at least up to the KM75 station before 1 am (the cut-off time) the next day.  I’ve never felt this weakened and fatigued, not even during the BDM races.  Perhaps, this race was not for me.

post-war scene

Who am I, anyway?  One inexperienced mountaineer who will be taking on the dark forest with only a headlight to guide me along technical uphills.  I’ll never even make past KM60.  And so I informed the organizers (where are you Neville?) that I’m DNFing and promptly joined the DNF warriors who can now look forward to sleeping on a comfy bed that night.

our final stop

Nearly an hour later, Team Kuliters Chinky & Reylynne arrive at the station, sounding frustrated and disgruntled at the organizers who informed us that station 5 is at KM50 only to add 5 kms. more.  The girls have conserved their energy for the next 50 only to be disqualified since they came 7 minutes beyond the 5pm cut-off time at KM 55 which was supposed to be just KM50 in the first place.  I told them it was for the best.  The forest fortress would just be too impossible to penetrate at night at a pace which may be impossible to sustain.  As we returned to our hotel, something inside me rejoiced – we will be resting and sleeping peacefully tonight, not among trees and the wild life.

that's it, folks!

Post-run assessment

The next day, when I woke up, reality set in.  And so did frustration, regret and more regret.

– Why did I quit when I was practically uninjured?  Except fro some overworked knees, I had no chaffing, blister or ITBS.  Trail running is indeed less severe to the legs.

– I still had 16 hours to finish 46 KMs., so why hadn’t I even tried?  I would have easily reached KM75, even if it’s beyond cut-off time.  Now that was one precious adventure I easily let go, after 55 KMs.

– So the evening was setting in – it also meant I’ll be gaining renewed energy with a cooler environ.

– Why did I let the dark, solitude, an unexplored terrain and cold surrounding deter me from even attempting to go on?

– I’ve continued moving on during the BDM 160KM in the face of a full bloom ITBS, blister, etc., so why did I throw the towel too early and easily?

Oh well.  I guess these would be the lessons and memories I’ll be taking with me until the next TNF100 where I promise to perform better (fingers crossed).  So, it’s back to the trails and mountains for me from hereon in.  I’ve discovered something new & wondrous and I intend to get stronger with every race/trek I get on.  My next goal:  King of the Mountains 100KM.

probably the highlight of our TNF100: endless eating with Team Kulit

P.S.  Team Kuliter Sheila Gavar-Compendio also DNFed at KM22 of her TNF50 race due to an impending asthmatic attack.  Her companion, Jenny Aggangan (BR’s Dream Marathon 2012’s fastest woman) DNFed, as well, at KM42.  The path going back from the radar was just too steep and risky to run at 9 pm.  And so, it was a DNF night for Team Kulit as we traded war stories with the resolve to succeed on this unfinished business call the TNF100.  With 55 finishing out of 162 runners, TNF 100 is proving to me more enticing and tempting a prospect.  See you in 2013!

Gorgeous photography courtesy of Boy Praning (Meljohn Tezon), Earl Warren Nebres Nabor, Rocketbong Alindada, Chinky Villavicencio, Keshia Fule, Erell Villalba & Maripaz Buban