First Trail Run: Minglanilla 15KM

It started as a random idea — me and four of my closest friends finally decided to sign up for the Minglanilla Trail Run. There were three categories: 15KM, 30KM, and 50KM. Of course, we chose the 15KM because none of us had done trail running before, and we didn’t want to die on our first try. I did the registration for all of us, and since the event was still about four months away, we thought, “Plenty of time to prepare.”

But you know how it is — plans are always good until they’re not. We kept saying we’d train soon, but life kept happening. It wasn’t until about a month before the race that we finally took things seriously and decided to recon the trail. That recon was a whole different story. It was honestly hard. Not impossible, but enough to make you question your decisions. It took us around 5 to 6 hours to finish that 15KM trail. Some parts were manageable, others were just straight up exhausting. By the end of it, two of my friends decided to back out of the race. So now it was just me and one other — ready or not.

Race day. Woke up at 3:30AM. Barely awake, but adrenaline was already kicking in. Gun start was at 5AM, cutoff at 12 noon. Standing at the starting line with our headlamps on, surrounded by strangers who all looked fitter and more prepared, I kept thinking, “Why am I here again?” But there’s no turning back when you’re already there.

The first few kilometers were alright — easy pace, walk-run combo. Honestly, running downhill felt good, especially early on. Doesn’t drain much energy but yeah, it pounds the knees. The challenge really started with the assaults — those steep inclines where you’re basically climbing more than you’re running. There were about 3 or 4 of those along the way. I still remember that final assault — steep, long, endless. That was the part where it stopped being fun.

By around the 9KM mark, I could already feel exhaustion creeping in. I was thankful I brought bananas, and I had ORS for electrolytes too. At some point in the middle of the trail, we reached this food station with fruits, lechon, bread — basically a fiesta. But I didn’t eat too much. I knew better than to run on a full stomach. Even though that lechon was screaming my name, I only grabbed a few bites before getting back on the trail.

Then it got worse. Around 12KM in, I started to feel the cramps. It wasn’t just soreness; it was that sharp, electric kind of pain where one wrong move could lock your leg. I was trying to stretch mid-run, but it wasn’t helping much. That last 3KM felt like the longest part of the entire race.

By the time we hit the final 500 meters, I was limping but determined. I was literally talking to my own feet like, “Come on, don’t betray me now.” And yeah — when we finally reached the finish line, the people cheering didn’t even fully register in my head. I was just locked in that moment of finally being done. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t fast. But we finished.

What I really learned is this: trail running is brutal if you don’t prepare properly. It’s not like fun runs on flat roads. It’s hard, it’s tiring, and it will test everything — your legs, your lungs, and your mindset. I should’ve trained better. I know I should’ve trained better. But at least now I know what it really feels like to do a trail race.

Will I do another? Maybe. Probably. I’m not sure if I’m jumping straight to a 30KM or anything crazy, but yeah — I might go for it again.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was real — and that first trail run is one for the books.