My morning started at the Kaanapali Beach Resort, with half of a bagel with peanut butter, a banana and OJ. It's wasn't my typical pre-run breakfast, (usually a bowl of shredded wheat with soy milk instead of a dry bagel) but it would have to do. At 3 am I boarded a school bus with the other AIDS Marathoners headed across the island to the starting point in Kahului.
The drop-off point was a well-lit parking garage with plenty of port-a-potties around the perimeter and a decent speaker system blaring early morning motivational tunes. My nerves began to settle as I went over my race plan in my head, checked out the Japanese runners' costumes and talked with other runners. After an aerobic warm-up, the fire dancer got everyone in the Aloha spirit and we walked a quarter-mile to the start.
Race start - 5:30 am, approx 75 deg: the sun wasn't up yet as we ran the first mile through residential Kahului and onto the Kuihelani Highway (SR380). Locals stood in their front yards and at intersections to cheer us on while police officers stopped traffic along the route. The Kuihelani Highway had a nice wide shoulder with sugar cane fields to our left and a volcano to our right. As the sun began to rise behind us, the true Hawaiian beauty began to reveal itself.
My plan for the race was to run 2 min: walk 2 min at a 15:30 mile for the first 10 miles, then run 3 min: walk 1 min at a 13:30 mile for the next 10, then see how I was feeling and possibly run the last 6.2 miles straight through. I realized this plan might have to be altered when I saw that the 10 mile mark was in middle of the hill portion. And as far as I could tell, the first 8 miles I ran around a 13:30 mile even though I was still alternating 2:2.
The sun was up and the temperature was still reasonable as we approached the first hill with a strong tail wind, around mile 8 at 7:30 am. I continued on with my plan, remembering the coaching I received during the previous 5 months. "Maintain your effort not your speed on a hill. Don't lean forward. Keep your feet as close to the ground as possible. Lean back a little when going downhill." The hills seemed to never end. Each time I neared the top, I thought it was the last big one and I would begin the descent to the scenic coast. And then I would get to the top and round the corner just in time to see another, even bigger hill coming up. But... the views were amazing!
The end of the hills also marked the halfway point for the marathon, the end of the cooling cross-island breeze, and the beginning of the scorching heat. We reached this point around 9:30 am. Even with the hills, the first half of the marathon didn't seem so bad, but it was the flat run along the beach that I was looking forward to. Unfortunately, I didn't know what I was asking for. Most of this run was along the shoulder of the Honoapiilani Highway (SR30). Never before have I been so intimately aware of the 5% drainage slope. 13 miles with a slope to my left took a toll on the tendon along the outside of my left foot. And then there was the heat. Despite the SPF 70 sunscreen that I was wearing, the sun's radiance was unrelenting and burned through my skin. This combined with the 100+ deg ambient temperature of the road pavement and the lack of breeze, and became a recipe for misery. I wasn't prepared for these conditions. Heck, the 23 mile training run was on a 65 deg day in late August!
Despite the conditions and the half-dozen, or more, times that I broke down in tears and wanted to quit, I persevered. 26.2 miles later I crossed the finish line. It wasn't the race I expected to run. It was much more difficult, and slow and unimpressive. In a way I'm glad that my first marathon was the most challenging. 7.5 hours earlier, when the coaches said completing this marathon would change me, I didn't believe them. But when my race plan fell to pieces, and I wanted to quit as much as I didn't want to quit, and I was in the most miserable conditions I could imagine (I'm not a heat person), I didn't quit. I finished what I said I was going to do. Not because I had to, but because others believed in me enough to donate money in the middle of a recession, and I said I would run a marathon.
Now, I need to finish this race report with a few other details. More water stops were needed along the course, along with signs to tell us they had sunscreen. My shoulders would have appreciated the heads up. Consistent mile markers also would have been helpful. Many of the signs were either knocked down or missing. I also finished the race to be told that they ran out of medals and only had XL finisher t-shirts. But, the medal and t-shirt are supposed to be in the mail. Other than these few problems, this was a well-run race and the people were fantastic. Such is the Aloha Spirit.
A little blurb on the Spirit of Aloha: I've travelled to the nearly every state in the US and I have never met residents who were as consistently friendly, helpful and over the top courteous as Hawai'ians. I'm not just talking about people in the tourist/hospitality industry, I'm talking about every person I encountered (except for one lady who beeped at me while I watched my last sunset on the big island.) To the Hawai'ian people and to everyone who supported me along this journey, Mahalo. Spread a little Aloha!
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