Tag: philippine trail running

  • Hardcore Hundred 2013: Our Holy Grail Trail Ultra

    Published on WalaPangStrava.com

    After TNF100 2008, the local ultramarathon scene started to grow. TNF100 was held yearly — 2009 in Sacobia, 2010 in Baguio (I finished that), 2011–2013 I’m not sure, then 2014 again in Baguio (I finished again), and 2015 in Nuvali. Road ultras also gained momentum. 2009 kicked off with Bald Runner’s Bataan Death March Ultra (BDM102), then Botak 100 on the roads of Quezon City. Those three — TNF100, BDM102, Botak100 — became the unofficial “ultra running grand slam” of that era. I finished BDM and Botak. I DNF-ed TNF100.

    Trail ultra friends “kidnapped” by Atty. Aldean. Race planning somewhere in Ortigas.

    Then on May 31, 2012, Jonel Mendoza announced Hardcore Hundred (H1). The name (not the format) was inspired by Hardrock 100. Jonel, though older, was a peer and friend. He also ran BDM102 and the other early races. His deputies included Isko Lapira — our own David Goggins. He looked the part: skin tone, shaved head, tall, lean, even the tattered white shirt he wore. And he had mountaineering photos in maong shorts! Hardcore talaga.

    Race map.

    Enter the Budol

    As usual, Aldean was the source of the budol. He had plans for UTMB 2014 and wanted to use H1 as prep. He recruited me and Wilnar Iglesia — one of the fastest runners back then. You wouldn’t know it by looking at him. He looked like a regular guy, but his superpower? His stomach. He could eat anything mid-race and not suffer. That’s a gift in ultras.

    I was the slowest of the three, and didn’t have solid plans. We registered late in 2012. Bahala na si Batman.

    Pinoy trail runners at the race briefing of a hundred mile trail race.
    Wilnar, me, Aldean — at the race briefing. Jonel at the background.
    43 brave runners started Hardcore 100 trail ultra.
    H1 2013 starters. Me, the pasaway, raising hands.

    Rain, Mud, and 100 Miles

    The race started on February 22, 2013 — a Friday midnight. We got to Kayapa on Tuesday and stayed at Baban’s. There were only 43 runners. That meant hours of running without seeing anyone — especially at night.

    Then, one hour before gunstart: rain. Not ambon — as in bagyo. And it was February, so malamig talaga. You could see the stress on people’s faces, but no one dared back out. That wasn’t the culture then. The rain didn’t stop. We all started soaked.

    No Joy, Just Survival

    That night and day, I remember no happy feelings. I was doing something I loved — trails — but I wasn’t happy. It was all misery. Rain. Mud. Cold.

    And being the first edition, it had hiccups. Locals didn’t understand what we were doing. Some removed or played with trail signs. Somewhere in Cabayo, our group got lost — and met another lost group. Around 15 of us were together. The next section was worse: Napo-Tuyak climb. Rainwater was rushing down like a waterfall. Uphill, slippery, dangerous. Then Pulag summit was shortened due to storm conditions. Isko had to leave the turnaround station. At Pulag grassland, the stones were underwater — calf-deep. It felt like stepping in ice water. Again: misery.

    Eventually I reached Babadak Ranger Station before dark. I was exhausted and freezing. I found other runners there, resting. Volunteers gave us hot food. I tried to calculate how I could still finish… then sat by the fireplace. It felt good. I never left. That was my H1 DNF. Many others dropped there too. A few tried to push on, but came back.

    The King of Another Mountain

    Out of 43 starters, only 12 finished. Even Majo didn’t survive. (She later became H1 champ for 7 straight years.)

    Back in Kayapa, we all gathered — DNF-ers, finishers, and volunteers. It was a small community. Most didn’t finish, but everyone was relieved. We were laughing, sharing stories, nursing our wounds.

    The best story? Rocky Go and Alain Llaguno. Two runners who became trail buddies — and got lost early in the race. Everyone was supposed to turn right toward Mount Pulag. They turned left — toward Mount Ugo! That’s why we called Rocky “King of Another Mountain.”

    At one point, Rocky even took off his huarache sandals (don’t ask why) and left them near a cliff. Alain saw them and thought Rocky had fallen. He panicked. Lahat kami tawa nang tawa sa Kayapa.

    getting lost in the mountains.

    What H1 2013 Meant to Me

    I honestly don’t know. I just liked being out there — with friends, with my tribe.

    It didn’t defeat or traumatize me. I even tried to do H1 again (a few times?) but always failed. I realized I may not be mentally built for 100 miles — maybe just 100K. But I also learned: trail ultras need more than strength. You need brains. Navigation. Outdoor confidence. Calmness under pressure.

    H1 was the start of “serious” trail running in the Philippines. You could hack a 100K race — but not H1. It became the holy grail of local ultras. It inspired many other trail events, and became the training ground for runners eyeing UTMB and other prestigious races.

    From the Trail to Today

    Today, we build gear for runners who chase these kinds of stories. We learned from the rain, the mud, and the DNFs. And we poured it all into the shirts, shorts, and systems we now use — not just to survive, but to thrive on the trail.

    🧢 Want to see what we wear now? 👉 What to Wear for a Trail Race in the Philippines

    🎒 Ready to get started? 👉 Start Here

    🔎 Browse Ahon’s gear system: 👉 Gear Tier Guide

    philippine trail running magazine.
    Aldean wrote his story on Front Runner magazine.

    From that muddy February night in Kayapa to today, we’re still on the trail. We turned those memories into a gear system built for Filipino runners. 👉 Visit AhonTrail.com

  • TNF100 2008: The First Philippine Ultra Trail Race

    📍 Nasugbu, Batangas – July 26–27, 2008

    Before trail running became a scene in the Philippines, it was already happening — quietly, muddy, and under heavy rain. The 2008 edition of The North Face 100 was one of the earliest long-distance trail events in the country. And for the few who showed up that weekend, it wasn’t just a race. It was a turning point.

    TNF100 logo. the start of philippine trail running.

    ✍️ The Backstory

    By 2008, Ronald Declarador was already hiking mountains. He had started road running around 2005–2006, with early races like the Runnex 10K at UP Diliman (₱150 reg fee, singlet included). But trail running? That was still a mystery. When he heard about TNF100, something clicked: “I already hike. I already run. Why not try something that combines both?”

    He signed up for the 100K with friends — Carlos Paredes, a fellow outdoorsman-runner, and Marc (last name forgotten, but remembered for long road runs and jeepney rides home). The farthest they had run in training was 33km on road. Zero trail exposure.

    🏞️ Race Format & Setting

    • Location: Mount Batulao and Mount Talamitam
    • Format: Two loops of 50K each for the full 100K
    • Start/Finish: Evercrest, Nasugbu
    • Date: July 26–27, 2008
    • Weather: Wet, foggy, and unforgettable
    philippine trail running history
    Less than 100 starters for 100k. No 50k category. Photo from Bald Runner.

    The route passed steep ridgelines, forest trails, and open fields. It was mountaineering-grade in places — ropes on Batulao climbs, river crossings near Talamitam, and long, isolated sections with little signage.

    Many runners got their first taste of real trail conditions here: non-stop mud, chilled air, flooded paths, and minimal aid.

    👟 The Gear of the Time

    Back then, there was no clear idea of what “trail gear” meant. Ronald showed up in:

    • TNF Arnuva shoes (yes, hiking shoes)
    • Black Adidas running attire
    • Nathan bladder vest (with shallow front pockets — “tech” at the time)
    nathan vest - advanced tech in the 2000s
    This was advanced tech at that time.

    Aid stations were stocked with saba, suman, and kamote. Race kits came in brown office envelopes. Trail tech? Wala pa.

    For a glimpse of how today’s trail gear evolved, see Ahon’s “Race-Ready Shirt” breakdown (soon) — a modern take on how far we’ve come since TNF100 2008.

    🧠 The Mind Game

    Ronald recalls the mental spiral near the halfway mark: After finishing the first 50K loop just before nightfall, the cold fog set in. They saw athletes like Leo Oracion and Retzel Orquiza not continuing.

    “If those guys stopped… why should we keep going?”
    He was already feeling sick. The thought of running the second loop in total darkness — with barely any experience — pushed him and Carlos to stop.

    No regrets, though. Relief outweighed disappointment. That DNF lit a fire.

    ahon co-founder trail running at the 2008 TNF100 philippines.
    Going up Mt. Batulao. Race bib made of tarpaulin.

    🔁 Full Circle

    Looking back, TNF100 2008 wasn’t about finishing. It was about starting something — for many runners, for the community, and for a trail movement that hadn’t yet found its name.

    Today, Ronald writes about gear, trail culture, and the roots of Philippine trail running. You can read the humorous, detailed, and more personal version of this story on his personal blog here.

    And if you’ve ever felt unprepared for a race, know that he once did too — at a time when trail running had no maps, no vlogs, and no blueprint.


  • Wala Pang Strava: Philippine Trail Running Stories from the Early Days

    Wala Pang Strava: Philippine Trail Running Stories from the Early Days

    🏁 Welcome to Wala Pang Strava

    Stories from before the uploads.

    Before the segment crowns and the auto-sync.
    Before race results lived on the cloud.
    Before every run was a post.

    We ran.

    Some wrote blogs. Some kept gear logs. Some just remembered.

    This is an archive for those stories.
    From pre-Strava trail days to forgotten climbs, old race blurbs to lost forum posts — we’re collecting the runs that shaped us, even if no GPS did.

    Got something to share?
    Email: hello@ahontrail.com
    Or visit the Submit a Story page.


    📁 No likes. No leaderboards. Just memory, sweat, and dirt.