Heaven

It's my wife's birthday today and we both celebrate it with a simple lunch at her favorite pizza place. Sunday, we go out with the entire family to enjoy Yakitori at a resto I found online.

Last night, I kept texting her from a studio where a band rehearsal was going on for a highschoool reunion scheduled for next month.

It was actually our third and most fulfilling one as compared to the first two sessions that I can rate a 2 out of a perfect 10.

It has been almost 15 years since I have really played and rehearsed for a gig. The line up last night was a combination of rusty old musicians and professionals who play regular gigs. There was rythm guitarist and vocalist Jorge Marco, an old bandmate from highschool who is actually responsible for all this, and myself who I both consider the rusty old ones in the group.

The rest were the pros: my old bandmate Warren Norton who played lead guitar and sang back vocals, Patrick Choi played keyboards and back vocals, and Alan Dichoso on bass and back vocals. All play for a classic hard rock band called Grind Stone.

I came in late being skeptical and all about the outcome. Upon arrival, excitment filled the air and I was alive again.

Hearing them tune their instruments gave a hint of the good old days and how pros would really play. It was a totally different experience for me as the warm up jamming songs turned out to be kick ass versions of classic rock covers.

Each tune one would propose by playing parts of the song would be answered by a drum roll, bass lines, and mean guitar riffs followed by vocals and a tight jam would be the end result.

I was challenged because I found it hard to sustain shuffle beats to songs like Steely Dan's "Reelin in the years" and Toto's "hold the line".

As everyone said, at the end of the day we all had fun. Speaking for myself, I felt this scarry feeling whenever I would experience playing good music. It is the kind of feeling when your spirit lives, flies, and you start to loose yourself amongst the colors and notes and sounds that come together from people playing around you, two of which I have played for the first time.

I remember hearing an Indian who asked a jail guard in the movie "The Green Mile". Before his execution, he asked..."I wonder what would heaven be like?" He then shared a story about himself and his wife when they were still young and they would make love beneath the stars. After which he remarked " I hope heaven would be like that".

I personally don't believe in the concept of white coulds, and angels with wings, and everyone wearing white.

For me, there are moments in our lives when we experience heaven and when we look back, we just smile and cherish the moment. These are all archived in our brain and subconscious and it does not leave until the day we die.

Last night was one of those moments. Today, being my wife's birthday, my girl of 27 years...I look forward to more.

On a side note, that cool looking Ludwig Vintage drum set from the 60's with a 17 inch bass drum is one of my dream sets.

Who knows, I might be able to own one soon. It could be a good gift to my youngest son who now shows interest in playing the drums. If ever he does get into it seriously, I do hope he experiences heaven the same way I did....

Rubber Legs, My Own Mortality, and Getting Back In Shape

The last time I posted anything in this blog was 3 months ago. That was a month before the much awaited run bike run race I was supposed to join at Filinvest scheduled for the second week of May.

Due to the numerous distractions from my regular routine, I missed it. There was a race at the Carmona track 2 weeks before the duathlon that I had decided to join. Unfortunately, I crashed my newly painted Rudy Project Vespa twice during the practice rounds.

The first crash was a lowside crash when I miscalculated my braking at a long and sharp turn. Minor damages incurred and no injuries to my body.

The second crash was a highside crash when my throttle got stock in the process of shifting from second to third gear coming out of a chicane. I was thrown off my scoot, and I injured my left foot. With a swollen foot and big toe, I still managed to finish the race in last place. Not to mention the third heat was completed with a flat rear tire for the last 2 laps.

What a comeback! I tried racing again at my own club's trackday, but things were never the same for me. Have to shake off those butterflies in the stomach and get back to the old racing form.

This set me back major. Due to the injuries sustained, I was not able to join the duathlon and all my hard work and mileage gained during my running and biking sessions faded away.

Some say it was bad luck because I was assigned the number 13. Some say I was too eager. I say I lacked practice and my bike was going cookoo that day.

Anyway, being the tenacious person that I am, I trained as soon as I got well. My biking was again at par with my standards but my running had to improve further.

Then June came. I call it the party month. This was even worse than Christmas itself and I found myself drinking like a fish again.

At one party, about 10 of us downed 5 bottles of the dreaded agua.

To cut a long story short, I saw my fitness level fly out of the window in such a short span of time.

The coup de grace for me was when I got sick a week ago. Too much stress, lack of sleep, and to much effort to keep up with training intensity took a toll on my health.

Imagine being able to train at 60 to 70% of max HR and having a resting HR of only 48BPM? It was depressing to say the least.

Well, next time I will choose the parties that I will go to. Next time I will listen to what my body is telling me and I will apply the one step backwards two steps forward approach.

I write today to inspire myself to train again and reach my old fitness level.

I've already started running with rubber legs but with much desire to improve. Tomorrow I bike and on Saturday, I hit the trails again or probably do a reverse palace in the sky just in case the trails are wet.

I find myself lucky. At my age, I am still able to do these things. The other day, I was again reminded of my own mortality.

Our messenger died in his sleep at age 52. I still think that was a good way to go. But at 52, there are so many things to enjoy...like mountain biking, watching your kids grow, and making love to your wife.

He won't be able to do those things anymore that's for sure. But he is definitely resting in peace.

I'll post a picture of my banged up Vespa soon so you can compare it to my old photos.

Time for a paint job......