At the Sparkle Run, a most unexpected twist of the ankle

I was never the sporty type.

The only time I became physically active was when I tried to make running a habit. That lasted for about five months.

Then I tried a few other activities. I did bouldering and wall climbing once, joined a beginner-friendly hike in Masungi with my team, and signed up for a Taekwondo class, though that didn’t push through.

They were fun experiences, but none of them really felt like the right fit for me.

So when I signed up for Sparkle Run, I had no idea what I was getting myself into, or that I could end up spraining my ankle along the way. It was my first-ever fun run.

I arrived at the Quirino Grandstand at around 2:30 a.m. on Saturday. I was going to participate in the cutesy 5-kilometer run.

Admittedly, I wasn’t physically or mentally prepared for what was ahead; my work shift ended at 10 p.m. the night before, so I was unable to get enough sleep.

I leaned on the warm-up session heavily, following the instructor’s movements to prepare my body. I dutifully reached for my toes to ensure the necessary stretch, and I swung my arms from side to side for better circulation and blood flow.

Everyone around me seemed energized. I copied along, hoping my body would eventually get the memo.

Then the countdown began and on cue, the 5km run started.

The first kilometer felt surprisingly easy. The cool morning air brushed against my face as I walked briskly on Roxas Boulevard. Music blasted from my earpods as I traversed the route.

Volunteers cheered from the sidelines. I was feeling good. Now and then, I broke into a light run, smiling to myself whenever I managed to keep pace with the people around me.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

Around the second kilometer, my confidence kicked in. I lengthened my stride, moved my arms faster, and felt the finish line wasn’t such an impossible dream.

Then my legs started to wobble. I could feel a dull ache creeping into my calves. I thought my ankles felt heavier with every step but no matter. I rolled my shoulders, shook out my arms, and kept going.

It as somewhere around the 3-kilometer mark, when I started feeling aches in my legs, especially around my ankles. I ignored the discomfort and kept moving.

But then I felt a slight twist in my ankle. That’s when the pain started.

With every step, my ankle became more painful. To make matters worse, I could also feel friction on the soles of my feet from the shoes I was wearing. What started as a fun and exciting first run was slowly turning into a struggle just to reach the finish line.

I don’t know if it was right that I kept going, but I did although at a much slower pace. At that point, my goal was no longer to finish with a good time. I simply wanted to cross the finish line and survive my first fun run.

As I forced myself to keep going, my mind wandered to all sorts of worst-case scenarios. What if my ankle gave out completely? Did I need to crawl to the finish line? What if I passed out mid-run? Would someone from the 4,000 attendees pick me up from the roadside? I allowed myself to even wonder if one of the 70 celebrities in attendance do so?

When I saw that we were finally approaching the Quirino Grandstand, a spark of hope lit up inside me. Ahhh, finally. Just a few more steps, and we would make it.

The burning sensation was just hard to ignore. I knew I had to have my ankle checked. So I stopped at the mobile clinic, stationed just before the finish line.

A medical staff member quickly assessed my condition. He carefully removed my shoe, examined my swollen ankle, and applied ice to help ease the pain.

As I sat there, I felt a mix of relief and frustration—relief that help was within reach, and frustration that my body had given up on me so close to the end.

After receiving some first aid, I felt well enough to continue. So I made my one last step and crossed the finish line, where I proudly received my medal.

As I placed the medal around my neck, a deep sense of fulfillment washed over me. It may have taken me much longer than I had expected to complete the run, but none of that mattered in that moment.

What mattered was that I finished — despite the pain in my ankle, and the many times I wanted to stop.

It wasn’t the race I had imagined, though seeing stars like Barbie Forteza and Alden Richards was such an endorphin high.

But it was still a victory. I kept going. I should be proud of myself.

Did I regret joining the fun run? Not at all. If anything, the experience taught me valuable lessons in preparation and mental focus. Barbie gave me some really important reminders, while Alden emphasized the importance of fitness.

It wasn’t a perfect run, but it was a meaningful one. And if there’s one thing I would do differently next time, it would be to prepare more thoroughly so I can enjoy the race and perform at my best.

— LA, GMA News