TRANSIT

"Normally we do not like to think about death. We would rather think about life. Why reflect on death? When you start preparing for death you soon realize that you must look into your life...now...and come to face the truth of your self. Death is like a mirror in which the true meaning of life is reflected."

–Sogyal Rinpoche

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Every day is a blessing, even though some people––and I admit I was one of those––don’t exactly share this optimistic view of life. But yes, every day is a blessing, and I will espouse this mantra for the next few days, maybe even weeks, until my world crashes again because of the confluence of tight, unreasonable deadlines, a fast-depleting bank account, and maybe another heartbreaking liaison with a callous, infidel damsel.

I have had a midlife epiphany, a realization 22 years in the making, and it has made me appreciate not only my life but life in general. It has made me value life a lot more, not because it offers plenty of opportunities for money, fame, love, sex, laughter, and other worldly indulgences known to mankind, but because life itself has an unpredictable, often vacillating way of reminding us––you, me, and everybody else (yes, that includes even my ingrate, user-of-an-ex-girlfriend)––that we are all subject to one final, predictable eventuality: death.

Yeah, we all will die. At any given time, at this very moment even, we have one foot on the grave. No amount of money can ever counter the certainty of death. Science, in any way, shape, or form can never reverse our shared mortality. Not even witchcraft, voodoo, or magic can defy our final, collective destiny as mortals. We all live borrowed lives, and it can be taken away in a nanosecond, often when we least expect it.

This realization has made me accept the infirmity of my existence. I am well aware that ultimately, perhaps as early as later, people may be talking about me in the past tense. But more than accepting the transient nature of my life and life in general, I have realized that, one, I can never relive or get back every day, every second, I take for granted and, two, that I have no control over my future.

So while I can fill my life with regrets over the questionable, sometimes deplorable, things I did in the past––or, for that matter, over all those things that I should have done but never did––I will choose not to do so simply because regret will never change my past. And while I can, on the contrary, look forward to a bright, great future, I will choose no to expect too much because the only certainty in the future is uncertainty.

What I have is today, a chance to make more out of my life. It is a chance to be happy––to make others happy. This chance may never come again tomorrow for me, so I will I grab it with both fervor and gratitude. This day is a blessing simply because I can do what I want to do, what I need to do. Some people who took their days for granted never again had the chance to do anything anymore. I once took my days for granted but I no longer do now. Today is what I have, and I will make the most out of it because tomorrow may never again come.

ONE POUND AT A TIME

In the summer of 2005, I dropped 30 pounds in two months and developed muscles in all the right places. I began entertaining thoughts of chiseling my body ala 50 Cent, complete with a rock-hard six-pack, rounded shoulders, bulging traps, and shredded arms. Eighteen months; some 500 gallons of soda; around 500 liters of beer; and roughly 2,000 kilos of pork, beef, and chicken later, I’ve managed to become more Fat Joe than 50 Cent.

With my delusions of a chiseled body out of the way, I realized that I really needed to do something about my fatness. I’ve been plugging my body with so much adipose tissue that at this rate, I’d probably end up in an extra large body bag in two years, give or take. No, death doesn’t really scare me, but the thought of dying in my 20s just isn’t too appealing. So I decided that I will––yet again––strive to drop the pounds and burn the fats. This time, though, I’ll use a different approach: one pound at a time.

I’ll adopt the “one pound at a time” mantra because I’ve realized that I will never lose 30lbs in an instant. Unless the Belos and the Calayans of the world decide to do liposuction for free, I’ll firmly believe that no one––not even Superman––can lose 30lbs in a day or week. And I also believe that this quest will require lots of hard work and determination unless the scientists in BALCO––yes, the same people allegedly responsible for adding seven inches to Barry Bonds’s noggin––can create a magical pill that instantly dissolves fat. Hey, if they can formulate a drug that transforms guys into beastly musclemen, why can’t they do the opposite, right?

Anyways, dropping the pounds and shedding the fat will be a great challenge. Now I don’t know if I will be able to overcome this challenge but, heck, it’s worth the try. I do know that I have a legit shot at making this thing work because I’m motivated to lose weight. I’ve set a realistic goal, and if I have to drag my fat ass into the gym or slap my plump cheek senseless to avoid munching chips with dips, I’ll do it. I have to do it.

I’ll take it one pound at a time. Everything else will take care of itself.

A QUEST ENDS

Twice would have been nice for UST, but with yesterday’s painful loss to Ateneo, hopes of a title repeat have officially been extinguished. It was a sorry, painful way of losing the UAAP crown that the Tigers so fiercely fought for last season, but as they say, “You win some, you lose some.” Besides, it ain’t that easy to fend off seven title-hungry teams that all want a piece of the yellow and gold. In the end, the Tigers finally got hunted down by the Eagles of Ateneo.

Of course, there’ll always be the “what ifs” to ponder on. What if Jojo Duncil––assuming he was still eligible––had played in Season 70? What if Japs Cuan had developed a reliable jumper? What if Jervy Cruz added a face-up game to his repertoire? What if Dylan Ababou played to his full potentials? What if the Tigers didn’t lose all those close, winnable games? What if Coach Pido Jarencio mastered the Xs and Os of the game? But while it’s relatively easy to ponder on the “what ifs” of this painful season, it would be better to break down what went wrong this year.

First, this team lacked consistency. They’ll play well one game and then slack off on the next. They just couldn’t put together a run of high-level games to make that one big push for that number 2 slot and its twice-to-beat incentive. Even during games, the Tigers seemed relatively inconsistent and erratic.

Second, UST failed to close out games. With the exception of its thrilling come-from-behind win over La Salle, the Tigers just could not close out games the same way they did last year. Part of the problem is the paucity of plays in Coach Pido Jarencio’s playbook. Coach Pido’s strength as a coach is his ability to motivate and inspire his players, which made all the difference last year. This year, his inadequacies on the Xs and Os component of coaching caught up with him and his team.

Third, UST couldn’t find a consistent perimeter threat to (a) compliment Jervy Cruz and (b) take over down the stretch. And with the way the rules are configured today, an explosive perimeter threat is almost always the best option when games are on the line. Simply, the Tigers missed gun-slinging two-guard Jojo Duncil. The absence of JD8 was a telling factor for two reasons: one, he was the one guy who consistently made big plays for UST in late-game situations last year (JC Intal might still have nightmares of Duncil crossing him over and hanging a jumper right in his face); and two, he relieved a lot of the pressure off Jervy Cruz inasmuch as making plays is concerned.

Yes, twice would have been nice, but as it is, there’ll be no back-to-back championships for UST. However, Thomasians need not hang their heads in shame or pain. The Tigers of Santo Tomas fought a good fight. They gave it all and let it all hang out on the court every single game. They never backed down from the challenge of defending the title they won last year. More importantly, they were as gracious in defeat as they were in victory. Next year, the Tigers will be back as the hunter, fiercer and more motivated than ever.