The Race Beyond the Finish Line

“From a young dreamer in Cagayan de Oro to inspiring thousands beyond the track”

I thought my athletic career was over because of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2021. For the first time, I found myself asking, "What's next?"

Instead of giving up, I decided to do something simple. I started uploading videos online. At first, they were just training clips, competition highlights, and slow-motion jumps. I wasn't trying to become a content creator. I wasn't chasing followers or popularity.

I simply wanted to share the sport that had changed my life.

That's how cdolongjumper was born. The name was simple. "CDO" represented my hometown, Cagayan de Oro. "Longjumper" represented the event that helped shape my dreams.

I never expected thousands of people to watch my journey. Then one video unexpectedly went viral. It was only a slow-motion jump.

Soon, athletes began asking questions. Students became interested in track and field. More people started following my journey.

Without realizing it, my purpose had begun to grow beyond competition. The track had given me a voice.

Through social media, that voice began reaching people I had never met. And I still had no idea how many lives it would eventually touch.

Almost every day, I started receiving messages. Some were from elementary students. Others were from high school and college athletes. Parents. Even coaches. Many of them shared stories that I will never forget.

"Kuya Clint, I started track because of your videos." "I was about to quit, but your story inspired me to continue." "You helped me believe in myself."

Every message humbled me, reminding me that influence is a responsibility. No medal has ever touched my heart the way those messages have. Those messages remind me of the lives I was able to encourage.

That's why coaching became another passion of mine. People sometimes ask why I coach while I'm still competing.

The answer is simple. I want to give back. Sports changed my life. It gave me an education. It gave me lifelong friendships. It allowed me to represent my university and my country.

Now I want to help other young athletes find those same opportunities.

There is something special about watching someone else succeed. Seeing a young athlete gain confidence. Watching someone earn a scholarship. Watching someone believe in themselves for the first time. Those moments are just as meaningful as winning medals. If one athlete reaches their dream because I shared my experience, then my journey continues through theirs.

A Purpose Greater Than the Podium

Just when everything seems to be going well, life finds a way to test you. For me, that test came in 2024. I suffered a Grade 2 hamstring strain. At first, it didn't feel real. They don't only affect your body.

For the first time in a long time, I was afraid. I cried. Questions I had never asked myself suddenly became impossible to ignore.

"What if this is the end?" "What if I never return to my best?" "What if everything I've worked for is gone?" Those thoughts are difficult because while you're recovering, the world keeps moving. You begin to wonder if you'll be left behind.

But deep inside, another voice kept telling me. "You're not done yet." Recovery taught me lessons that winning never could. It taught me patience. It taught me humility. It taught me to appreciate my body instead of taking it for granted.

Most of all, it taught me empathy. Today, when I coach athletes recovering from injuries or struggling with setbacks, I don't just speak from knowledge. I speak from experience. Looking back now, I don't ask God why the injury happened. Instead, I thank Him for it.

People often ask me what my greatest achievement is.

Many expect me to answer, "Winning a UAAP championship," "Representing the Philippines," or "Standing on the podium." Those moments will always be special, and I'm truly grateful. They are dreams every athlete hopes to achieve.

But as I look back on my journey, I realize my greatest achievement isn't a medal, a trophy, or a record.

It's knowing that somewhere in the Philippines, a young athlete decided not to give up because of something I shared.

Four years ago, I started receiving messages from students, parents, and aspiring athletes. Some told me they started track and field because of my videos. Others said they changed events after following my journey. Some even shared that they were ready to quit, but after watching my training videos or hearing my story, they found the courage to continue.

Every time I read those messages, I'm reminded that the greatest victories are often the ones we never see.

Looking back, I realize my journey was never just about becoming a champion. It was about becoming someone who could help others believe that they could become one too.

More Than Medals

When I first arrived at the University of the Philippines, I carried more than just my training gear and school supplies.

I carried the dreams of a young boy from Cagayan de Oro. I was there because sports gave me the opportunity to earn a quality education while doing what I loved.

Representing UP was always an honor. Every time I wore the jersey, I reminded myself that not everyone gets the chance to represent one of the country's best universities. That made me appreciate every practice, every competition, and every opportunity to compete.

As the years passed, my definition of success began to change. When I was younger, I thought success meant winning medals.

Now I realize that winning is simply the result of all the work that happens long before competition day. It comes from waking up early when no one is watching. It comes from repeating the same drills thousands of times. It comes from discipline, sacrifice, consistency, and trusting the process.

People see the jump that wins the gold medal. They don't see the thousands of jumps that made it possible.

They celebrate a few seconds of competition but rarely see the thousands of hours spent preparing for those few seconds. That's the reality of being an athlete.

I became a four-time UAAP multi-medalist from Seasons 85 to 88, earning medals every season from 2022 to 2025. I also competed in several events, which made every season even more meaningful.

People sometimes ask me which medal means the most. The truth is, every medal tells a different story.

Some remind me of confidence. Others remind me of perseverance. Some represent sacrifice. Others remind me of overcoming doubt.

But if there's one moment I'll never forget, it's becoming a UAAP Champion. Winning that championship fulfilled a dream I had carried for many years. If someone had told the younger version of me?the smallest athlete on the team with no medals or recognition?that one day I would become a UAAP Champion, I probably wouldn't have believed it.

Not because I lacked faith. But because I knew how difficult the journey would be. Standing on top of the podium is an unforgettable feeling. But in that moment, one thought quietly entered my mind. "I wish my father could see this." Some victories make you smile.

Winning also taught me another important lesson. Confidence doesn't come before preparation. Confidence comes from preparation. I've always been competitive.

I hate losing, but over time I realized that my biggest competitor was never the athlete beside me.

It was always the person I saw in the mirror.

Eventually, another dream came true. I had the privilege of representing the Philippines. Wearin the national colors is something every athlete dreams of. It's an honor. A reminder that you're representing millions of Filipinos every time you step onto the track.

Hearing "Philippines" announced before my event is a moment I'll always treasure. It reminded me how far God had already brought me.

If one day I compete in my final event, I hope people won't remember me only because I jumped far or won medals.

I hope they remember someone who never gave up. Someone who chose discipline over excuses. Someone who used sports to create opportunities for others.

Someone who pointed people not only toward their dreams, but toward Christ. Because in the end, sports are only one part of life.

The real finish line isn't inside a stadium. The greatest victory is standing before Him, knowing that you ran your race with faith, purpose, and love.