The Frog Who Had Dirt in Its Ears

"Tough times don't last but tough people do."
-A.C. Green

There was this story about the frog who had dirt in his ears.


The frog, together with several other frogs, joined in a race. The goal was to climb uphill from a pit, and there were hundreds of other frogs competing for this big event.


The start of the race had every amphibian eager to climb out, each stepping on someone else's back. It was a survival of all sorts, like a natural selection process --- the smartest bad ass frog wins.


Little by little, each frog fell out from the race. Each was trapped in the dirt, slid at the bottom or let go too fast and too soon until only a handful was left trying to get out of the pit.


The spectators had their own bets, and tried to deride the other frogs who may emerge as the winner; the one that showed a good potential of climbing up the dirt tracks.


The strongest of the frogs was unwavering, and was determined to boost his way up to the ground. The crowd was cheering him wildly... he IS the favorite, anyways. Too caught up with his strength and vanity, he missed a step and fell back to the pit. The crowd went silent.


There was a stir in the bottom of the pit, and a little frog came forward hopping and sliding his way up to finish the race. When the onlookers peered closely, they saw that it was not the strong frog who missed his step, but a smaller frog with no potential of winning. The crowd laughed at the silly frog and jested him. 


"Your froggy legs won't get you there!"


" You're just a small frog, you can't beat the big one..."


"It's impossible. Your size can't take you there."


" Boo! Boo! Boo!"


"Give up! Now's the time to let go! You can never make it!"


" He'll never make it!"


He'll never make it. With each shout and sarcasm thrown his way, the frog never seemed to mind at all. 
He continued climbing up the dirt and his small stature did not hamper his way, albeit the difficulty of the tracks. 
Soon, what seemed to be an impossible feat became possible, and the small frog slowly climbed up the last few remaining threads of the dirt pit. Much to the crowd's amazement, the small frog leaped happily onto the ground and hopped happily right up as if he didn't figure out that it was really absolutely impossible to win this race for him.


A reporter went up to the frog for an interview.


" What was your motivation? What were you thinking? How did you do it?"


The frog remained silent. As if he heard nothing.


The reporter repeated his questions and shouted them close to the frog's ears just to get his attention. 


Only then that the small frog realized that somebody was indeed talking to him and he shook his head and picked his ears.


He answered, " What was that again?"


The reported retorted sharply, " Everybody else was shouting at you, that you can't do it. It was really impossible. How did you do it?"


The frog was stunned for a moment, then smiled at the reporter.


" I'm sorry. I couldn't hear a single thing. There was dirt in my ear. I didn't hear anything."


And off he hopped happily to claim his prize --- freedom.




We've had our shares of tough times... when the going gets tougher than we expected, and people around us tell us that it's impossible. But when everything else is turning against you, isn't it vindictively victorious to shut them off and carry on with what you think is best and winning in the end?


Someone once told me that I couldn't make it alive on white waters. That I am too limp to paddle, too small for a raft, and too weak to swim hard. 
On January 23rd, I've had my first share of wild water adventure in the treacherous waters of Davao River.
I nearly drowned and died when a current hit me and I was caught underneath the raft when I drifted across the rapids.
But I survived. When the guide shouted at me telling me I may not make it. I did.


And when my team thought we were about to capsize and the guides were expecting us to kiss the walls and fall off the boat --- we survived. We didn't listen to them. Instead, we paddled and huddled together to make the raft stay afloat on the gushing waters.


Someone once told me that running a race is a dream I should forget. A dream I should wake up from. Because I am not cut out for sports. I am too limp to run, too ambitious to stride forward. Too sensitive for pain. Too vain, too weak.
On March 6th, I am running my 6th race in 2 years. My 4th 10-kilometer run. I've endured my shares and woes of pain, fatigue and disappointment. My fair share of giving up in the middle of the race and telling myself I can finish it. My fair share of eating my words and beating personal records.


But, I am not hearing any of this. 


Like any other moments when people tell me to quit because I cannot make it, I will prove them wrong. 


I am a frog with dirt in my ears.


And in time, when I emerge victoriously from my own dirty tracks you all tell me I cannot reach...


I will make you eat dirt.


The same dirt lodged in these Maldita ears.