Forty for Forty : February 2016

Race #40 - Honolulu Marathon

Date: December 13

Type: Running

Distance: Marathon

Final Shwag

Shwag: A race shirt that I can't even get over my head, finisher's medal, a sticker, and a shell necklace

It’s been almost two months since I did my 40^th race and I still haven’t written a blog post about it. The truth is, I haven’t really felt like writing about it. Since my last race, I’ve either been traveling or been sick, sometimes both at the same time. And, to be honest, this race felt a little anticlimactic for me.

My big race was the 50K in the fall, then I did a few races that, while fun, were really just filler. And then I had the marathon. While my body held up well both during and after the 50K, it wasn’t necessarily ready or willing to run a marathon eight weeks later. In between the 50k and the marathon, I had only done two longish runs, and both of them were horrible. I knew this race was going to be rough and so went in with the attitude that I would just take it slow and enjoy myself, which is exactly what I did. Or, I suppose I should say that I enjoyed myself as much as one can enjoy oneself during a marathon.

It helped that, somehow, five other people decided to do the race with me. Seriously. People came to Hawaii and did a marathon with me. How amazing is that? I felt completely honored to have Szabo, Sammi, Kevin, Paul, and Susan along for this one. And when the going got rough, knowing they were out on the course with me definitely helped keep me going, especially when I got a chance to meet up with two of them mid-race.

Ready for the race!

So what can I tell you about a race that happened almost two months ago? Since my memory is fading, here are a few quick things:

The Honolulu Marathon is a good race. I’m glad I did it. And I would definitely do it again.
But, it’s not a race you should run if you’re the type of person who cares about your time. In any way. Whatsoever.

The race is basically a mass start of 30,000+ people. There are no corrals, no queueing. They have signs suggesting where you should line up if you’re planning to run a three hour marathon, a four hour marathon, etc. but these are about as meaningful as the “serving size” on a box of Girl Scout cookies.

Crazy scene at the start

Because of the mass-start aspect, the first ten or so miles of the race are basically wall to wall people. There are times when you simply can’t run because it’s such a bottleneck and you’re kind of pressed up against sweaty strangers, which is gross if you think about it, so just don’t think about it. You’re in Hawaii. Think about that instead.
But in addition to starting with a stampede, the race starts with fireworks, and that’s pretty cool. And not just any fireworks. These are excessive fireworks. In fact, they went on way longer than I thought they would, or should, and this is coming from someone from Pittsburgh, so when I say “that’s too many fireworks!” it’s probably too many fireworks.

Fireworks! (Yes, I know this picture is lame.)

But, seeing as the race starts at 5:00 am, they really should do something cool to kick it off because, even with the time difference, 5:00 am is ridiculous.
It seemed like most of the runners were Japanese, so both the signs and the instructions were in Japanese, which made it feel like an international race. It was very surreal to be wandering around the streets of Honolulu in the pre-dawn hours, seeing signs that I couldn’t read and listening to instructions that I couldn’t understand. It was definitely one of the more interesting races out of the 40.
I started the race with Kevin, but lost him in the crowd shortly after passing the Stay Puft Marshmallow man. We must have been close for a few miles because we both heard the same music blaring around mile 5: “I Got the Power” by C + C Music Factory, immediately followed by “Unbelievable” by EMF. It was 1991 all over again! If only I had been wearing a Technocolor shirt.

Me, Kevin, and Mr. Puft

For the first few miles, I was running near two Japanese gentlemen who were running behind a film crew in a jeep, and the jeep had a police escort, and neither the police escort nor the Jeep were concerned about whether or not they ran people over. I managed to get ahead of them after a few miles but they caught up to me after I spent ten minutes in a port-a-potty line. Luckily, I passed them again and didn’t see them for the rest of the race because that was just annoying.
Luckily, I was also able to get around the woman who was running with a Santa helium balloon tied to her waste, oblivious to the fact that it was bopping into the heads of the runners around her and, unfortunately, those runners were helpless to get away because of the wall-to-wall, sweaty people situation.
Early in the race, you run by some government buildings in Honolulu that have an amazing Christmas display. Lots of people were taking pictures and then running to the next display, where they’d stop and take a picture again. This made it seem like people were just really excited to see the lights, and were joyfully running from display to display. That made me happy in a lot of ways.

Hawaiian Christmas Lights

Shaka Santa!

After we ran through Honolulu and Waikiki, we started to make our way towards Diamond Head, and things got a little less urban. We ran under a bunch of giant Banyan trees right before sunrise, and you could hear masses of tropical birds chirping up above. Combined with the soft light and sweet, dewy air, I found this utterly magical. And then I thought about the chances that I might be pooped on and it seemed less magical.
Just before running up Diamond Head, I passed Darth Vader! I have to give this guy props – he ran in that costume the entire time, despite the fact that it was in the 80’s and sunny. I saw Darth at the finish line and, while he looked quote soggy and dehydrated, he was still in full costume. That’s commitment.

Me and Darth

“Running” up Diamond Head was amazing. The course was lined with a group of young and super-enthusiastic volunteers who were going above and beyond to motivate us up the hill. This was, however, one of the most crowded sections of the race, which is why running is in quotes. Oh well, it was good practice for the Star Wars Half Marathon, which I did in January (blog post to follow, I swear).

Top of Diamond Head. The U.S.
Coast Guard salutes me!

After Diamond Head, you run through a neighborhood for a bit and then you’re on the highway. The crowd started to thin out a bit at this point, which is nice, but any joy you have about having a little breathing room is cancelled out by the fact that, even in Hawaii, running 10 miles on a highway sucks away a little bit of your soul. But still, you’re in Hawaii and there are some beautiful moments if you’re going slow enough to notice them, which I most certainly was.

One of the beautiful moments along the course

Stuff like this made it fun, too
I honestly don’t remember much about this ten-mile stretch, except that I ran into Sammi and Szabo when I hit mile 20, and I think I saw a guy running with a sousaphone that was decorated like Big Bird. I could have been hallucinating though.

Mile 20. Not hallucinating.

And I may have been hallucinating because… In addition to the normal stuff (water and Gatorade), the aid stations had tables set up where you could get get some kind of noxious stuff sprayed on your legs. At each aid station, these tables were mobbed by Japanese runners. I have no idea what this stuff was (the signs weren’t in English) but I wanted the full race experience, so I decided to give it a shot. I held my breath, ran over to the table and had them spray me down. My calves burned in a fairly unpleasant way for about 30 seconds and that was it. I still have no idea what that stuff was, but if I was hallucinating or acting strange in any way, I’m blaming it on the mystery spray.
Aside from the mystery spray, another thing that was consistently mobbed was every single race photo station. Since this was my last race, I tried to set myself up for a few photos, only to have hoards of people jump in front of me at the last second. Hmph.
In addition to the crowd running the race, a good crowd comes out to cheer you on and that's pretty awesome. By far, my favorite race supporters were the people handing out pineapple around mile 23.
One of the reasons I liked the pineapple so much may have been that I had just been passed by an elderly Japanese woman who was wearing a robe and slippers. I had been warned that things like this happen, by someone to whom it had happened, but that didn’t help me much when it actually happened to me. I know I wasn’t going for any land speed records, but still, when a little old lady in slippers shuffles by you, you question your life a little bit.

Yep, that just happened.

Even though I wasn’t properly trained for the race, and even though it was hot and humid, I’m proud of how well I held up from a mental perspective. Yes, I got to a point where I was ready to be done, but I didn’t have an epic internal meltdown like I had during my first marathon, when every fiber of my being was seething with angry and misery. (In retrospect, I was probably just a little dehydrated but at the time I felt like the universe was one giant mass of misery and suffering, with me at the center.)
And when I did have those low moments, I would just look at the ocean and think, “yeah, okay… things could be worse.”
But, I still think marathons are stupid. I understand running a marathon after you’ve ridden your bike for 112 miles, and I also understand running more than a marathon. But the marathon itself is just so stupid.
Still, I’m glad that I did it. If a marathon in Hawaii felt anticlimactic to me, imagine how a 5K in Boulder would have felt. And, even though this race didn't feel overly meaningful, when I wanted to walk in the final mile, I thought, “this is the last mile of your last race, so just shut up and run.” Wait... did I think that our did I actually say it out loud to myself? The inner and outer monologues really begin to blur together at that point in a race.
Crossing the finish line was a great feeling, but an even better feeling was knowing that my family was there. I hardly ever get to spend time with my aunt, uncle, and cousin who live in Hawaii, and it was so wonderful to have them at the finish of my last race. I kept apologizing for how bad I smelled and how out of it I was, but they’re my family and they didn’t care. They love me no matter how bad I smell.

Me and my family at the finish line
In addition to providing me with unconditional love and support, my family members were also wise enough to tell me to get two malasadas at the finish line, even though I insisted I only wanted one. They were right; I wanted, and needed two. In fact, I ended up eating four, but that’s another story. Note: I ate four malasadas but didn’t manage to get a picture of any of them. But why would I take a picture of a malasada when I could eat it instead? If you want to know what a malasada looks like, you’re just going to have to do the race.
In addition to only doing marathons that have malasadas at the end, I think I will also only do marathons that offer the ability to run into the ocean at the end. Granted, I had to cross the street and make my way down a steepish hill to the beach, but it was really pretty worth it.
Kevin had finished before me, and Szabo and Sammi were still out on the course. After lying on the ground for some time, Kevin and I decided to head back to the hotel for a quick shower, and then head back to the finish line to meet Szabo and Sammi. We also decided it would be a good idea to walk the 1.5 miles back to the hotel because why not? After about .5 miles, we stopped to fuel up with potato chips and a coke and then, after sitting for approximately 3 minutes, decided that we weren’t going to make it. Or more like we would make it back to the hotel, but then we probably wouldn’t make it back to the finish line. We once again hobbled our way back to the race, but not before I impulsively bought a pair of flip flops. Also pretty worth it.

Kevin and I cheered for Szabo and Sammi at the finish, and then we all ate more malasadas before getting on a bus and slowly making our way to the hotel. Szabo and I rested up a bit and then headed out to my family’s for a home-cooked meal that included homemade pierogis. I pigged out appropriately and basked in the comfort of spending time with people I love. I couldn't think of a better way to end the day.

The rest of the trip was filled with lots of fun Hawaii stuff – snorkeling, shave ice, crystal clear blue waters, plate lunches, big wave surfing, Hawaiian Santa, etc., etc. I know to some people, Hawaii seems very pedestrian, but I think that if you’re not happy with Hawaii, you’re probably not too happy anywhere. No joke, a few months ago I heard someone complaining about their trip to Hawaii because it just seemed too “normal”. Seriously? There are people in this world who don’t know where their next meal is coming from and you’re complaining because your vacation in paradise was too normal? Things like that make me want to barf. You know what doesn't make me want to barf? These pictures:

Random Amazing Hawaii Stuff

What?

On the last day of our trip, we spent the day with my family, visitng a Buddhist temple, traveling to the top of Oahu, eating Korean BBQ from a place in a strip mall, reminiscing about family, and finishing it all off with some more malasada’s (this time from Leonards). I left Hawaii with both my stomach and heart full, grateful that I got to be in such a beautiful place with such beautiful people.

Buddhist Temple

This is the point where I feel obligated to say something about what a wonderful experience this whole forty-for-forty thing was, how I did amazing things, learned a lot about myself, and grew as a person. And yes, all of that is true. But, writing something like that makes it feel like those things have ended, and they haven’t. This blog was just a vivisection. In addition to continuing to do races (two so far this year, with a few more on the schedule), I’m still doing amazing things, learning about myself, and growing as a person, and I hope that never ends until I end.

People have said to me, “Years from now, you’ll look back on this and think, ‘that was really amazing when I did 40 races in a year’” but I don’t think so. It’s not because doing 40 races in a year wasn’t amazing, it was. (Equally amazing – getting almost 40 race shirts and having only about three that actually fit.) But the thing is, I hope that life will always be amazing to me. That doesn’t mean that I always need to be accomplishing a huge goal, or achieving something bigger and better. For me that means not looking back on my life and thinking a certain period, or a certain version of me was the best. It’s knowing that my best is here with me now, and knowing that wherever I am is exactly the right place to be. If I can do that, it will be amazing.

Forty for Forty

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

#40 - The Grand Finale, the Coup de Grace, the Big Kahuna, the... you get the idea