Originally written May 2021
I dedicate this gold medal to a very dear friend, my confidant, my best friend and my kuya — big brother — Jing.
To most people, he was Captain Jing Salcedo.
Three days before my 50th birthday, I learned of his passing through social media.
My first thought was that somebody must have made a mistake.
Not my Kuya Jing.
I had met him when he was an Air Force captain, and somehow that was still the image I carried of him in my mind — fit, strong and almost invincible.
It was difficult to accept that he was gone.
Kuya Jing was the person who taught me the deeper meaning of friendship and loyalty.
Those who knew me many years ago know there was a time in my life when I messed up badly. Some people probably thought I had ruined my life.
But Kuya Jing stood by me.
He did not leave.
He continued to believe in me.
For that, I will always be grateful.
We came from very different backgrounds and moved in different social circles. Career-wise, he was always an officer.
But one thing about Kuya Jing was that he was inclusive.
He opened his home to my friends as though they were his own friends. He even befriended potential husbands for me. 
And when Graeme came into my life, Kuya Jing welcomed him like family.
The first time they met, he even prepared a feast for us.
We were both what Graeme calls “outgoing introverts.”
And yet Kuya Jing and I could talk on the telephone for hours.
My sister used to say:
“You two talk as if there’s no tomorrow.”
We talked about our struggles.
Our faith.
Our hopes.
Our failures — lots of those.
And life in general.
Even after years without communication, I always knew that if I truly needed him, I still had a friend and a brother I could turn to.
He was my Jonathan.
1 Samuel 18.
When I learned that he had died, I felt numb.
I couldn’t cry.
I was in denial, and I simply did not know how to make sense of it.
The only thing that seemed capable of making me feel anything was running.
So I started running.
And that is why I dedicate this 5 km road race gold medal to him.
Not because of the distance.
Not because of the time.
But because running became somewhere for me to put the grief I didn’t yet know how to carry.
And because Kuya Jing finished his own life race still filled with faith and love.
During a conversation with Nassel, she told me she couldn’t believe how many lives he had touched.
It wasn’t because of his status.
It wasn’t because of his authority.
It was because of his humility, his kindness and his love.
That is the legacy he left behind.
And that is how I will remember my Kuya Jing.
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
— 2 Timothy 4:7
Stories Along the Way 