November 2012: Marikina City, NCR

At home, Rendo presented a participation document from the division games...

"No! You're so not joining that division meet! I tell you!"

It was Rendo's mother expressing her disapproval of him running in an official competition. Meanwhile, Rendo's father remained quiet, even as he eats his snacks.

"But mom..."

"You don't do that to me! You hear, boy? You don't do that to me!"

"..."

"Dad, tell something to your... your impudent son!"

His father looks to them, swallows the food in his mouth, and says, "Right. What your mom said." Then, he continues with his meal.

"I know my limitations... I don't excel in any other sport... Now that I have a chance with the only athletic sport I can participate in, you say that..."

"Ah! You've the guts to even answer!"

"..."

"Look, son. We see your passion, and your intention to help us by getting the scholarship if you win... But I emphasize on the "if." You may have good legs, but what if something happens to you? Can you handle it? Can you even take care of yourself?"

"..."

Rendo wanted to have the scholarship because he knew of his family's financial situation. At this time, he is studying in a public school, which meant minimum expenses for his education. However, in the university level, even state colleges have tuition fees because there is no full government subsidy. Since both his parents do not have a steady source of income (they work seasonal part-time low-income jobs), he will not get to college without at least a scholarship. In the Philippines, only around 10 percent of elementary students ever get to college. Even a smaller fraction of the studying population gets to finish a college degree.

"Tell me, will the school give you an allowance?"

"N..."

"How about a guarantee for medical expenses in case of emergency? You know, when sports-related accidents happen?"

"No..."

"Okay. Not even free meals or drinks?"

"No!"

"See? We all know what this dirty paper means! This is a waiver that will guarantee that the school is not liable to anything that may happen to you on the field."

She waved the document like a piece of trash.

"Yes..."

"Of course, if you win the division meet, you still have to win the regional and the national to get that college scholarship, right?"

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"That is... correct..."

"And the school will have the glory and honor if you win, but discard you if you bring home nothing."

"..."

"You realize what we mean now?"

"Y..."

"But of course, if you still want to join..."

With that phrase, Rendo lifted his head up for the first time since the conversation began.

"Mom?"

"Focus on your studies. You're only entering first year, after all. We'd tell you when you can join, alright?"

"Y-yes... thank you!"

He hugged his mom and shook his dad's hands, which still had crumbs from the snacks.

And we are back to 2015, three years later. Throughout the night, this among other memories gave Rendo a difficult time to sleep. His parents were right. Why did he not listen to them? Indeed, it must be his fault that all of this happened. He should have not been insistent. It was a haunting past, and he feared that if he sleeps, he may not wake up again. His legs are no more. What can he do if he cannot even run away? Such thoughts cluttered his mind as the memories kept flooding, like educational television feeding children with overflowing information. The following day, it may not appear in his looks, but Rendo lacked sleep.

"Son! Wake up! Breakfast's ready!", his mom yelled.

As he came out of the room, he saw a pleasant surprise. It was as if a feast is being given, but to whom?

"You, of course! You had a hard time yesterday. You should eat well to regain your strength."

He was speechless as he slowly crept to the table and gazed at the food. It was breakfast, lunch, and dinner combined into one, locally called "altanghap." His wounds still hurt, but he managed to eat heartily that morning. After his parents cleared the table and his wounds tended (replacing the bandages would prove to be troublesome), he spoke to them for the first time since the competition ended.

"T-thanks..."

His dad answered him, "That's alright, son. You'd surely win next year."

"Um... about that..."

"What?"

"I... Well, I actually plan to... You know... I plan to... quit..."

"Wait, son. You just lost one race..."

"Dad. I know."

"Hmm. I see. Go on."

"I said that if I will lose in the nationals... then... then, it would be better for me not to compete there at all... I believe that this is the answer I seek, Dad."

"Well, son, I'm glad. But..."

"But...?"

"You see the lesson, right? Your parents know best. Or, as your mom would've liked it, mothers know best."

"Yes..."

"As your father, it would've been better if you listened to us earlier, yes? But as a man, I know how it is to pursue your own goals."

"You... do?"

"Of course. I went through adolescence, too, you know?"

At that moment, his father laughs and lightly taps him repeatedly on the back. Then, there was silence. They just nodded at each other before his father went up to fix something in the house. Later that day, his coach visited to talk to Rendo's parents.

"I'm sorry for what happened. You see, I don't have much of a background in physical education. I just got this PE position since it's the only faculty position vacant."

Rendo's mom responded, "No worries, sir. If my son believed in you as his coach, then who are we to judge?"

"Yes, er, of course... If you only know how fast he really runs, you won't have the nerve to mentor him. Probably the only thing he got from me was warm-ups. That is all."

"I see your point, sir. Ever since he was young, he likes to run. That is, even though he had no formal training."

"Oh, really? No wonder..."

The conversation went on, and as the coach was about to leave, he remembered to give a small envelope.

"Er, it's just a little something from me. Not much. Hope it'd be of help."

Then, the coach finally leaves. When Rendo's mom opened the envelope, it contained money. There was also a note inside, which says that the money was for his medical expenses. It can be recalled that the school would not provide any financial help, so this was the coach's personal expense. Yes, it may be a small gift for most people, but his parents sat down and together uttered a prayer of thankfulness to the Lord.

As for Rendo, who has yet to know his coach's little gift, being the nation's fastest is not his concern anymore. He thought to himself, "If I get to study harder and have better grades, then maybe there is another path to scholarship. Yes, that has to be it." So, he did shift his focus to his studies. But wait, if this is a story about running, how come the lead character quits oh so easily? Does that mean we have reached the end? Oh well, jobless total up to one. I guess I should log in to search for job postings. See you whenever.