It was the summer of 1988 when a few fellow members of the UP Repertory Company and I traveled to the historic city of Laoag — then a ten-hour drive from Manila — for an unusual reason: to see Tom Cruise.

More precisely, we were sent there to work as bit players in the Hollywood film Born on the Fourth of July, directed by Academy Award–winner Oliver Stone. Cruise played a paraplegic soldier who had served in the Vietnam War, though the “Vietnam” scenes were actually filmed in the Philippines.

At that time, Cruise was already one of the world’s biggest stars, fresh from the success of Risky Business, Cocktail, and Top Gun. Strangely enough, I hadn’t seen any of those films yet, so while my companions were nearly giddy with excitement, I felt more curious than starstruck.

Still, the experience was unforgettable. I witnessed firsthand how a Hollywood production came to life — the precision, patience, and artistry behind every scene. Between takes, I even had the chance to chat briefly with some of the cast and crew, including Cruise himself, who remains a global superstar to this day.

That summer in Laoag always felt like a vivid dream.

Fast forward to 37 years later.

Months ago, I received a message from one of my WeKenRun “daughters,” Leidee Lacambra, who is based in Badoc, Ilocos Norte. She was inviting me to the Philippine Marine Corps ultramarathon, a 50K race held simultaneously in different parts of the country — one of them in Laoag.

I had completed this 50K the previous year in Bonifacio Global City, but this seemed like a perfect opportunity to return to Laoag, a place I remembered fondly.

Last Friday afternoon, Lei picked me up at the Laoag airport. Though small, the airport was clean, well-organized, and its architecture evoked the charm of the colonial era. We collected our race kits at the Philippine Marine Corps booth inside SM City Laoag and fueled up with a hearty meal at the local Italianni’s.

After checking into our hotel, we wasted no time exploring the La Paz Sand Dunes, a natural coastal desert formation stretching along the shores of Laoag. Covering roughly 85 square kilometers, the dunes rise 10 to 30 meters high, offering sweeping views of the West Philippine Sea and one of the most magnificent sunsets I had ever seen.

As the sun descended, the dunes transformed into a sea of gold and amber. The grass atop the dunes swayed gently in the wind, each blade bending like a slow, graceful breath. The sand and grass shimmered in the fading light, creating a scene both tranquil and surreal. 

We ended the day with a shake-out run at the Centennial Arena, home to a world-class track oval.

On race day, we laid out our gear and napped after lunch, setting alarms to wake around 10 p.m. for the midnight gunstart. 

The air was slightly colder when runners gathered at the starting line, headlamps flickering in the darkness. Though we arrived almost at gunstart, we still managed a quick photo of the backs of our race singlets. Proudly, we wore custom PSI singlets with “NO TO CORRUPTION” on the back and a white ribbon on the front.

Then we were off. We surged forward as one, a blur of footsteps and breath. The first few kilometers slipped by easily on flat roads. We fell into rhythm beside strangers who soon felt like comrades.

I was reminded once again how grueling a 50K can be, but I pushed through every aching step. Crossing the finish line, I was stunned to learn that I had won first place in the women’s category — and that Lei had taken second. It was the first time I had ever won a cash prize from a race, and the feeling was simply incredible.

After the race, with a few hours to spare before my flight, we visited the historic Paoay Church and the birthplace of the Lunas in Badoc, Ilocos Norte. It was a memorable trip in every way, marred only by one unfortunate incident at our hotel, the Sarita Hotel. 

The owner, a Mr. Lazo, shouted at us and berated us after we politely requested a waiver of the late-checkout fee, given that it was just past 1 p.m. and no other guests were scheduled to check in that Saturday afternoon.

It’s remarkable how one unpleasant encounter can cast a shadow over an otherwise wonderful trip. I can only hope that future visitors — both local and foreign — never have to experience such treatment.