From left: John Pages, Mendel Lopez, Leszl Gitaruelas, Dr. Yong Larrazabal, Dr. Peter Mancao

HONG KONG—After six months of waking up each Sunday at 5 a.m. for “The Long Run,” after pairs of Nike shoes worn-out and replaced, after over 1,000 kms. of mileage, dozens of Runner’s World magazines read, hours of ‘80’s music on the iPod Nano listened to while bouncing up and down, after booking this trip last December and registering to join my first-ever full Marathon, only three words are left unsaid: THIS IS IT!

At 7:45 this morning, a gun will fire and echo along Nathan Road here to signal that, yes, finally, the race has began.

Would you believe: A record 49,947 runners will trample on the cemented roads here to join the 2008 Standard Chartered Hong Kong Marathon. Can you imagine that? Fifty thousand pairs of legs hopping, squeezed together, arms moving front and back, hearts pounding, and lungs huffing and puffing? In weather that’s super-cold at 12 degree Celsius?

Sports headline news here: Note the legs formed into the number “49,947”

Along the route…

Performers practicing for the event day presentation

HONG KONG—The two words and eight letters that spell this popular region south of China can be downsized and cut to one word and four letters: C-O-L-D.

My wife Jasmin and I arrived here via Cebu Pacific from Cebu at 12:16 a.m. yesterday and, when we stepped out of the airport doors and smiled to greet the Hong Kong air—we clammed up like shells. We zipped tight our jackets, buried our hands inside the pockets, shivered.

Temperature reading? Nine degrees Celsius.

When we finally arrived at our headquarters here for four nights—the Kowloon Hotel along Nathan Road in Tsim Sha Tsui—it was past 2 a.m. We got off the N21 Citybus 50 meters from the hotel and, while walking at that unholy hour towards the hotel’s doors, cold wind breezed and enveloped our already-cold bodies.

John, Leszl and Mendel

At 11 a.m. yesterday in my office, I met two athletes. Skinny and long-legged, they can sprint after a cheetah. Ask them to visit the Cebu City Sports Center and they’ll zoom round and round, circling the track oval with nary a sweat, not losing breath.

ML is Mendel Lopez. Only 23, Mendel has amassed a pile of trophies, medals, citations and, yes, worn-out running shoes that will tower taller than the Ayala Center Christmas tree of last December.

“I won gold in the 1500 meters yesterday,” he told me a day after dominating the regional PRISAA. “Same with the 4 x 100 and 4 x 400 relays. We won gold.”

Gold, you see, is Mendel’s favorite color. And rarely has he joined an event in Cebu and not—at the end of the finish line—hung a round metal around his neck that’s not shining gold.

Ten years ago last December 27, Jasmin and I exchanged vows at the Cebu Metropolitan Cathedral then boarded a flight 48 hours after to stay for five nights in this city labeled as one of Asia’s most enthralling.

In Hong Kong, we rode a mini-train to the top of Victoria Peak. We dined on Peking Duck, strolled along Nathan Road, boarded the Star Ferry and, by nightfall, sat mesmerized at the display of lights across the harbor. We squeezed inside the MRT, disembarked in the shopping district of Mongkok and stood dazed at the dizzying walking pace of our Chinese neighbors. We took a train to watch horse-racing at the far-flung Sha Tin Race Track and even entered the Hong Kong Convention Center and nearly saw, in person, Jackie Chan!