Recovery Update

Despite having issues with my joints all last week (enough discomfort that I could not risk running), I wake up this morning feeling pretty good...so my wife and I decide to run our basic three mile orbit.

It is unexpectedly hot and humid this morning, but I manage to complete the orbit in 27:52. More importantly, I did so without aggravating any of my joints. I finish my last mostly downhill mile in 8:07 (the last 0.2 miles is a steep incline), so, even having taken so much time off, I have not really lost much speed.

That all said, I am fairly certain I will rollover my entry fee for this year's Long Beach Marathon to next year. I now know what can happen over 26.2 miles when my legs feel like they are in perfect health at the start of the race...I do not need to learn what can happen when they are not.

BTW, for those of you who are infrequent visitors to my blog, you should check my earlier posts for the Hana Relay and Maui Marathon because I have been adding details and links to photographs as they become available.

Recovery / Safe Mode

A week and a day has passed since I completed my first marathon, but only today have I dared to run again. On Saturday, I went for a nice four mile walk with my mom on Burma Road (my better half ran the full five mile out-and-back), but I have been afraid to run because a number of my joints and/or muscles still ache...and I do not want to risk a more serious injury.

That said, I do need to resume my training because I have a second marathon within the next few weeks (I registered for the Long Beach International Marathon before I ran the Disneyland Half Marathon simply because I wanted the bonus technical shirt...greed will be my undoing).

I do my favorite five mile loop because, though it starts uphill, it features a longer gentle descent. I take it easy at first...and my legs feel okay (breathing rhythm is off, but not horrible). I let my stride naturally open up as the hill crests, and my pace easily improves. By the third mile, I am back under nine minutes per mile (wondering why I did not try running again earlier). I have no difficulty sustaining this pace for the rest of the run, but I feel my left knee twinge over the fourth and fifth mile. I do not experience the same painful sensations I did during the marathon, but the tingling implies a potential setback could occur at any moment given harsher conditions (steeper grade, angled pavement, concrete, longer distance, stepping on a rock the wrong way, etc.).

As soon as I return home, I realize that the discomfort I have been experiencing has definitely increased. My right hip and right ankle (both of which first got tweaked during the Palos Verdes Half Marathon) are definitely worse for wear, likely due to over compensating to protect my injured left knee. My right foot's arch/heel pain (possibly plantar fasciiatus) is also more pronounced, but strangely continues to bother me only when I walk. Rolling my foot over a tennis ball usually relieves the latter pain, but now not nearly as much or as instantaneously.

If these issues do not go away any time soon, I may have to postpone my second marathon attempt until next year.

The Day After

My crazy ultra-running coworker sent me this video awhile ago...I can now fully appreciate it!
This morning, I wake up at 1:15am...probably because I was asleep last night by 7pm. Still, I would have expected to need more after yesterday's ordeal.

I try to get out of bed. OMG! My legs don't work! I must use my hands to shift each leg off the bed and on to the floor. I try to stand up, but it is slow going and requires a lot of upper body strength. For some reason, I thought I would avoid a lot of this by getting a post-race massage (an amazing deep tissue massage at The Ritz-Carlton, Kapalua's beautiful new Waihua Spa), but apparently my muscles will need a bit more time to recover.

I lie back down and try to fall asleep. I re-watch one of the videos I put on my PSP before the trip. It helps...I probably am out again by 3:30am.

The alarm goes off at 5:30am. I must have slept oddly because my neck now hurts. I still need to assist my legs out of bed. The bottoms of my feet feel like they have no padding whatsoever, so my first steps are painful. At least I am able to walk somewhat normally. Yesterday, when I first attempted to stand after sitting down to consume my post-race snacks, I was wishing for a wheelchair. It was damn near impossible to get up. At that time, I could not even fully extend my legs when I walked.

Somehow I manage to walk up a hill and climb a few sets of stairs to reach my rental car and then drive myself to Gazebo for breakfast. This is one of the rare times I am glad to be driving a car without a clutch.

While waiting in line for the restaurant to open, I am soon congratulated by an older guy who is wearing the same "Maui Marathon Finisher" T-shirt as I am. The fun thing about wearing a shirt only awarded to those who actually finish the race is instant recognition...for most, completing a marathon seems a significant enough achievement that times do not matter (although I find it strange how few people realize that marathons are 26.2 miles long). That said, this particular gentleman claims to have run 91 marathons (this being his first on Maui)! Two of the women he is with ran the half. None of them are hobbling around like me. In fact, this guy even ran three miles this morning! I feel humbled.

I need protein, so I order an Spanish omelet instead of my favorite banana-mac nut-pineapple pancakes (I'll be back tomorrow for those). The waiter congratulates me...mentioning that she saw us runners while driving between here and Kahului yesterday.

As I leave the restaurant, another lady approaches to congratulate me. She did not run this marathon, but has run several others. I find out she will be participating in next month's Long Beach Marathon...my next marathon (crossing fingers that I will be ready for it).

This is funny. Marathoners seem to form an instant bond. I also noticed this in conversations I overheard while sitting on the shuttle bus yesterday morning. This reminds me of when I took up snowboarding. The first days are painful. Everyone who tries the sport has had to endure the same and makes it easy for everyone to relate to one another. Marathoners must endure more. Perhaps that's why this acknowledgment and encouragement seems all the more genuine.

When I return to the hotel, a member of the staff asks me how the race went. Between running the Hana Relay with two guys who work here and meeting those who work with my wife, word has definitely gotten around. Yesterday, the waiter at one of the hotel's restaurants even presented me with a congratulatory platter of chocolate covered strawberries and truffles. Here I do not need to wear the shirt.

This definitely helps me get over the frustration I had with my knee.

As the morning continues, I focus on loosening up my legs. I alternate between spending time in the jacuzzi and swimming in the pool...by the time I am done, I am walking much more normally and can handle stairs with ease. I will probably head back down this afternoon, but first I must blog!

Maui Marathon

My wife and I are up at 2am, giving me just enough time to have coffee and a light snack before she drives me to Ka'anapali. Shuttle buses to Kahului will depart from there at 3:30, but she wants to leave early to avoid potential gridlock on Ka'anapali Parkway.

We leave Kapalua with plenty of time to spare, but need to stop for gas. The station in Kahana is closed! Thankfully, the car has enough to get to Ka'anapali...and I am able to find a seat on the first bus. My wife calls from a station in Lahaina...also closed. Hopefully the car has enough gas to not only get her back to the hotel, but also to Kahana (there are no service stations in Kapalua).

My worries soon shift below the belt. Apparently, one of the biggest mistakes a runner can make is drinking coffee and pre-hydrating before sitting down towards the back of a school bus. Just as our shuttle departs from Ka'anapali, I suddenly need to go. I must grin and bear it over every little bump our bus hits en route to the starting area. Making matters worse, our driver takes us on a longer and slower route through Wailuku before arriving at our destination behind Queen Ka'ahumanu Center. People can't get off the bus fast enough for me. Fortunately, ours is one of the first busses to arrive, so the port-a-potties are vacant (and the one I have found looks unused).

As I look around the staging area, I can hardly believe I am about to run my first marathon. A day shy of one year ago, I ran my first race since high school (and that was only five miles long). I step up to a table, set my things down, and pin my bib number to my shirt. Ouch...I have pricked my thumb! I guess I am not dreaming.

I ask around...seems like I am the only first time marathoner in my immediate vicinity. Another Eric standing nearby says we need to team together, but, when I tell him my pace goal of 9 minute miles, he replies that he'll be lagging far behind me. I start talking to the lady next to me. Her husband couldn't be here today because he hurt his ankle doing a trail run. She has not run Maui before, but has done marathons in Chicago and San Diego. She says that San Diego's Rock and Roll Marathon course (which was almost my first) is quite hilly, so I was smart not to start there.

An announcer welcomes us, provides some statistics (1,035 runners have registered for today's race representing 20 countries...500 or so from the State of Hawaii), and warms up the crowd by having us give a shout-out when our home state or country is called. I am getting anxious. Time to stretch. To my right is a large contingency of Japanese runners (who appear to be on some kind of group tour). They are stretching in unison. They look serious.

A half-an-hour before our 5:30am race time, the announcer confirms it is time to walk to the starting line. We are told to follow a truck up the driveway by the Macys and around a corner away from the mall. How far are we going? It seems like we are walking forever before we gather in the middle of a dark residential street (Google Maps measures our walk at just under a half-mile). I wonder how residents must feel having so many people crowd their street before sunrise. I notice that I am far closer to the front than the back of the field. That's good.

The announcer once again has us shout-out when our state or country is called. The countdown has begun. Apparently, the start time for the half and full marathons are synchronized. I overhear someone make the comment "I wonder how the slower half marathon runners will feel when they are passed by the elite marathoners". The guy behind me mentions that this is his first full marathon. I tell him this is mine too. We wish each other luck.

At 5:30am, the horn sounds! The announcer reminds us to cross the timing mat, but it is too dark to see the ground. My feet touch something that feels like carpet just as the field spreads out enough to run. This must be the mat...time to start my GPS watch. I pass between two Polynesian guys holding torches before proceeding into the darkness. The course begins flat with perhaps a slight dip. I am making a conscious effort to keep my pace between 8-and-a-half and 9 minutes per mile for the first half of this race, having noted that the next four or five miles will be a slight incline followed by more significant hills when we reach the coast.

According to my watch, I complete my first mile in 8:32. I am off to a good start. My legs feel great and my breathing is calm and controlled. As I reach the intersection of Puunene and Dairy Road and turn on to the Kuihelani Highway (380), however, the air turns foul. I am guessing that the source of this stench is fertilizer for the sugar cane fields adjacent to the highway. Stalks of sugar cane continue to the horizon. I hope the smell does not.

As with the Hana Relay, the road is not completely closed to vehicles (I suppose it would be impossible to close the only highway connecting Kahului with West Maui) and participants must stick to the left. Though I would have preferred being able to run in the center of the pavement (where it is least sloped to the sides), cones have been placed so that we can at least run within a portion of the slow lane and not just upon the shoulder. That said, pre-dawn traffic is light in both directions. Generator powered lights dot the highway, so we are not running in total darkness. I grab a cup at the first water station. Expecting heat, I plan to take at least some water or Gatorade at every station...I will not make the mistake of waiting for my body to tell me it is thirsty.

Despite the slight incline, I have no difficulty maintaining my target pace over the next few miles. The sky starts to lighten up. Shortly after passing the fourth mile marker, I notice my pace has improved to nearly 8 minutes per mile. The road has flattened so gradually that I may not have noticed the slight downward slope if not for my watch.

As the intersection of the Honoapiilani Highway (30) comes into view, a runner behind me says that she is patting herself on the back for reaching this point by sunrise. I look over my left shoulder and can see a tiny spot of bright red over the northern slope of Haleakala. The sky has an odd haze about it (yesterday, I heard the Honolulu news refer to "vog" - volcanic smog - but this is my first time seeing it), but, otherwise, there are no clouds. I am glad I have made it this far this fast because I suspect that the temperature will soon begin to rise.

After merging with Highway 30, I encounter a much more pronounced downward slope. Without any effort, my pace accelerates (I do not realize I am averaging sub-8 over the next two miles). With the island now bathing in dawn's light, I can more fully appreciate my surroundings. I pass the Maui Ocean Center and Maalea Harbor. The coast is in view. Through the haze, I see Wailea, Molokini, Kahoolawe. This is truly running in paradise.

The hilly coastal section of the race begins, but the initial grade is nowhere near as steep as I anticipated. Training around Palos Verdes, Kapalua, and participating in the Hana Relay have prepared me for elevation changes far worse than this. I grab my first sponge from one of the aid stations and apply it to my forehead. WOW! It is ice-cold! That will wake anyone up.

Winding roads and rolling hills (followed by one last significant incline) overlook rugged coastline for the next few miles...similar to some stretches of Palos Verdes Drive back home. The banked turns, however, prove to be far more challenging than the final ascent. The longer the turn, the longer one leg must compensate. Though my joints do not like the sustained uneven strain, my pace never drops below 9 minutes per mile.

As I begin the descent towards Ukumehame Park, I let my pace improve knowing that all significant elevation changes are now behind me. My legs and breathing feel great as I pass through the at tunnel (the momentary blip in pace recorded by my watch is simply where it lost communication with the satellites). My half marathon split is actually the second fastest I have ever recorded, yet I feel fully capable of doing the second half at the same pace...or even faster. Four hours seems totally doable.

I reach the flat section of highway that is adjacent to the beach...a stretch of the course that I have been looking forward to ever since I decided to run the full marathon. Unfortunately, the road does not feel nearly as flat as it looks. I start pushing myself just to maintain my pace (unaware that I have slowed below nine minutes per mile). This is the first time today that my muscles really feel the effort. Adding discomfort, I feel the sun on my back. There is no shade. There is barely any sea breeze. I start looking for the next aid station, now eager to take on water, Gatorade, and sponges.

According to my watch, I complete fifteen miles in 2:08:23. During one of my longer training runs, I remember being impressed when I reached this distance in 2:15:00, so I am obviously pleased (failing to notice that my pace has continued to fade). Over the next mile-and-a-half, my breathing remains very comfortable, but I definitely am pushing my legs harder than expected...seemingly convinced I am running slightly uphill.

Suddenly, my left knee gives out...and I hop upon my right leg until I reach a complete stop. This is totally unexpected. I have never felt anything like this while running before. I try walking, hoping the pain will pass quickly. Since my average pace is still well under nine minutes per mile, I can take it easy for a bit and still finish in four hours. Even more encouraging, I am able to walk pretty fast. A quarter of a mile later, I try running. The knee appears to be holding up.

As I approach the aid station near the seventeenth mile marker, the pain returns. It seems centered behind the joint, perhaps in the ligaments, and becomes more pronounced as I relax the muscles around the knee. The slower I jog, the worse the pain grows, so I walk through the aid station. Even more frustrating, I am unable to run through the only shaded stretch of the entire course!

I hate watching my average pace drop. I must try running again. The pain is not too bad for the first few strides, but becomes unbearable as my pace drops to a jog. I repeat this frustrating cycle several times. I keep passing and being passed by a short Asian gal who has been maintaining a slow but steady clip. I have no idea what she must think of my technique. Now my knee hurts when I walk too. The road here slopes to the left, causing additional torque on my joints with each painful step. I cannot let myself stop.

After I pass the eighteenth mile marker, I try running again. Despite having already been on the course for more than three hours, I feel confident that I can still finish this race within four hours. My mind is going. I am deluding myself. I have never run eight miles in one hour...and I have more than eight to go. Perhaps the sun is starting to get to me. Shortly after crossing the 30K timing mat, I start walking again.

I reach the turn-around point for today's half marathon. I remember how good I felt after running 13.1 miles...and start regretting my decision to run the full 26.2. Course workers remove cones used for separating incoming and outgoing participants running the half. I guess their race is over. Lucky them.

The next few miles are a blur.

When I see a sign for medical assistance at the aid station near mile 21, I grab a seat and describe my injury to the volunteer working there. She thinks the pain sounds deep, rubs some form of relieving cream (perhaps IcyHot) on the back of my leg, and then tells me I can catch a bus from here to the finish line if I feel like stopping. I cannot believe what I am hearing. I am only five miles from completing my first marathon. I refuse to quit, immediately stand up, and resume a brisk walking pace. I soon feel heat working its way deep into the muscles behind my knee. When the course turns down Front Street, I start jogging again. My leg feels pretty good!

Unfortunately, it is even hotter in Lahaina than I had feared. Residents offer to hose me down. I accept as long as they don't spray my shoes. My pace drops back to a walk as I reach the next aid station. Ack! Warm water is bad enough, but warm Gatorade is nasty! The sponge helps, but not for long. I walk through Old Lahaina Town. As I pass Bubba Gump Shrimp, I keep hearing "run, Forrest, run!", but my body says "stop, Forrest, stop!"

Continuing down Front Street, I encounter a series of official looking photographers. Before I reach the first, I somehow manage to start jogging while morphing a seemingly frozen grimace into a very forced smile. I am able to strike nearly the same pose for each photographer. Perhaps this is the motivation I need to finish the race! But, when I pass the last of them, I start walking again. It does not help that Front Street has slight inclines at a bridge and as it merges with the highway.

The incline continues for a bit past the twenty-fifth mile marker, but I decide to try running again. The knee is a bit iffy, but seems solid enough to endure one last push. I slow my pace to save energy for the descent into Ka'anapali. I grab a cup of water and a sponge at the last aid station. I am so over walking. I want to run as much of the home stretch as I can, no matter how badly I feel.

As my pace improves, my wife tries calling my cellphone. I answer, but she cannot hear me. She tries again, hoping to hear where I am on the course. I am unable to tell her that I am close to the end, struggling to maintain my rhythm. At least I am running. By the time I turn on Ka'anapali Parkway, my pace is sub-10 and improves as the course continues downhill. I see many cheering people, but no one I recognize. I cross a timing mat as the finish comes into view. Still no sign of my wife. The announcer calls out my name and hometown, giving me one last boost. I muster enough strength to throw both arms up as I run across the finish line.

Relief.

My wife finds me as I proceed down the chute, collect my finisher's medal, and pose for one last official photo. Since she has missed snapping a photo of me crossing the finish line, she takes a couple now. I am not winded, but my legs and feet feel thoroughly abused. I grab my finisher's T-shirt, gather much needed post-race snacks, and then my wife helps me find a spot to sit down. I cannot sit comfortably. All of my joints ache. I am not yet enjoying the fact I completed my first marathon. I am not sure if I ever will...

Official photos of me

Article in The Maui News

Official stats:
Time: 04:41:59
10K split: 0:52:37
Half split: 1:52:52
30K split: 3:12:35 (left knee went out before mile 17)
Place overall: 302 (of 808 finishers)
Place division: 42 (of 75 finishers)

Marathon Training Complete

My first full marathon is on Sunday (just a few days way), so this morning's run is officially my last until the big day...to give my legs one last chance to rest before making them suffer! My training on Maui has taken me close to the northern end of the Honoapiilani Highway to as far south as the Kahana Gateway (and even further if you count the Hana Relay...blog entry still being worked on), but I have yet to run upon any segment of the 26.2 mile stretch between Kahului and Kaanapali that defines the Maui Marathon.

I am getting somewhat used to the humidity, but I have not yet run in the late morning heat (my 11:20AM leg of the Hana Relay was in a full downpour). Unfortunately, low winds and higher humidity is forecast for the weekend. I am crossing my fingers that, during the race, I will be able to get through Lahaina before it gets too hot.

Until Sunday morning, I am going to take it easy and spend a lot of time in the pool. I have managed to stay healthy and injury free this long, so I do not need to take any chances. I have to pick up my race packet either tomorrow or on Saturday...and then it is once again time to carbo-load!

Friday's run: 4.08 miles (8:44/mi)
Hana Relay: 9.49 miles (8:15/mi)
Tuesday's run: 10.6 miles (9:34/mi)
Today's run: 6.21 miles (8:49/mi)

Total on Maui: 29.36 miles (8:52/mi)

Total YTD: 542.43 miles (9:42/mi)

Hana Relay

If Nike's Run Hit Remix is "more fun than run" and Disneyland's Half Marathon is the "happiest race on earth", then I am totally at a loss for how to describe the wacky and highly spirited relay that takes place on the infamous 52 mile long road to Hana.

On our pre-dawn ride to Kahului, I meet my teammates, learn that our team is called "Off the Couch" and that our official baton is a TV Remote (an actual IR remote with batteries removed), but this hardly prepares me for the circus-like atmosphere surrounding the start of the race. Unlike many of the participating teams, we are not wearing crazy costumes or riding in a decorated support vehicle. Some guys apparently have no issues with their sexuality as we see everything from running nuns to Super Fairies. The women are no less enthusiastic with instantly recognizable teams like G.I. Janes and Disco Divas. And there are mixed sex teams including a rowdy band of pirates (their truck is decorated like a pirate ship...complete with mast and sails) and a team of rock stars featuring a bald guy wearing a dress that is supposed to be Sinead O'Connor. What have I gotten myself into?

Jorge, our team leader, has run this event before and is indeed a runner (he has run a half marathon in the low 1:30's). Unfortunately, he has not had time to run much this year. Since I am the one with the most training, I have volunteered for the first and thirteenth legs, both of which are recorded by the timing chip...and, since we agree to maintain our team order for the duration of the race, I will also take the seventh. I'll be handing the remote to Mike, Mike to Jorge, Jorge to Paige, Paige to Joe, Joe to Mitch, and Mitch back to me until he crosses the finish line in Hana.

Having arrived only 15 minutes before our start time (the start is staggered based on how long each captain estimates his or her team will take to complete the entire 52 mile course), I have just enough time to put on my bib, strap the official timing chip to my left ankle (which I will hand to Mitch after I complete the thirteenth leg), stretch, make one last pit stop, and pose for a team photo before I must hand my camera to Mitch, grab the baton, and line up for the start of the race. Runners are warned to stay left because the road to Hana is not closed (say what?) and are advised to use good judgment because we will encounter traffic. Some team captains are scolded for bringing two or more support vehicles...with a record 121 teams participating, parking will already be difficult around the hand off zones. For those of you who have not done this drive before, the road to Hana features many narrow sections, blind corners, and one lane bridges. This will be interesting to say the least!

Leg 1:
2.4 Miles - Start at the JUNCTION OF KEOLANI AND AALELE ST. Run East on Aalele St., left onto Old Haleakala Hwy., then straight on Haleakala Hwy. Juct. To Kala Rd. (Which is one-way: Support Vehicles must turn right on Haleakala Hwy., left on Hana Hwy., then park along Hana Hwy. for hand-off.) HAND-OFF POINT IS ON KALA RD. about 150 meters from the Hana hwy. intersection.

When the horn sounds, I sprint to the lead, but then quickly back off (letting a few guys pass me) when I realize my pace is around six minutes per mile. I want to use this flat and short segment to warm up, not burn out! That said, I am not entirely sure how I should pace such an event because, while my total run will be over nine miles, the long breaks in between might provide me with fresh legs or nasty cramps.

As the course turns towards Haleakala, I can see the sun rising through the clouds, rays streaking across the sky...an inspiring sight. The early morning temperature is pleasant, so the humidity seems manageable...for now.

I complete the first mile in 6:47.

As the road turns near runway 2 of Kahului International Airport, another runner gets by me. We are on one of those deceptively slight inclines, so I try to keep him within view without pushing too hard. When the road dips towards the first hand off zone, I start reeling him in...but I cannot catch him before handing the baton to Mike.

Though only four teams handed off ahead of us, the staggered start times make it impossible to know our place in overall race even at this early stage. My teammates seem pleased with my effort and my legs are feeling pretty good, so I am pumped when I return to the van.

Leg 7:
3.4 Miles - From TWIN FALLS (HOOLAWA) BRIDGE to EMI BASE YARD IN KAILUA . Rolling hills, then mostly level on winding road.

At this point, everyone on our team has had a turn and everyone is looking pretty good, but our van is really starting to smell. Jorge seems especially fast, but he was seriously winded after his leg. Joe had a bad reaction to the 5 hour energy gel he consumed prior to running, but he was able to keep it down until completing his leg. Though Joe had an especially hot leg under direct sun, things have cooled off since Mitch took the baton. I have been blessed with overcast skies and light winds.

Over two hours have passed since I was out there, so I actually feel quite rested...and I have time to make a pit stop and stretch before Mitch hands me the remote.

The descriptions "rolling hills" and "winding road" apply to most of the road to Hana, but Twin Falls is really where the crazy drive begins. Having trained on the Palos Verdes Peninsula, I do not fear this section...it is not unlike running along Portuguese Bend.

Two miles in, the course starts an uphill climb and I feel my pace drop. Still, I am able to use the incline to pass a couple of people. I am feeling pretty good about not being passed until one guy in particular flies by me...and, no matter how hard I try, I cannot stay with him. His bib color is pink, meaning he is from the last group to start. After a couple of turns, he is no longer within view. I have a feeling he is going to be on the winning team.

I am still climbing as my watch indicates 3.4 miles, so I start worrying when I cannot see the next hand off zone. Fortunately, the road soon levels off, so I am able to pick up my pace and stop thinking about the discrepancy between my GPS watch and the stated length for this leg. By the time I pass the remote to Mike, I am really moving.

Leg 13:
3.3 Miles - From WAILUA BAY LOOKOUT to PUAA KAA STATE PARK. 2.1 miles uphill. A tough leg. Put the guy/gal you don't like on this leg. Bathrooms and water available.

Since my last leg, parking around hand off zones has become nearly impossible. Lots are tiny, road is narrow, shoulders are practically non-existent, turn outs are rare, bridges are barely wide enough for a car plus runner. On the plus side, the views have been spectacular and the tropical vegetation especially lush. With the ride being broken up for these hand offs, the drive to Hana actually does not seem nearly as long as I remember (ironic because we have already been out here for more than four hours and we still have a long way to go).

As I get ready for my next leg, I start looking for a restroom since the description states one would be available. Unfortunately, this stop is merely a scenic overlook with no place to go unless I am willing to risk falling off a cliff (that does not stop one girl from trying). Aggravating the situation, it starts to rain. Another runner mentions this precipitation is not nearly as bad as last year...just minutes before it gets worse. I wait nearly ten minutes in a tropical downpour, the kind with thick and heavy drops (feels like I am standing under a waterfall). The wind is chilling. My hat, clothes, and, even worse, shoes and socks get drenched. Did I mention I really have to go?

Mitch hands me the remote and I am off. This leg starts on an incline...and continues upward endlessly with very few moments of respite. Some sections are quite steep. The rain continues to pour for most of my ascent. I am barely able to enjoy the view. I can hardly concentrate on my breathing and I completely forget how long this leg is. I just keep thinking about the official descriptions "2.1 miles uphill" and "put the guy/gal you don't like on this leg". Before the course flattens, I suffer my first slower than ten minutes mile of the race.

As I reach the top, I am thrilled to see that the course actually starts to descend. With this being my last leg, I start pushing the pace hoping to improve my overall average for this leg. While the rain has stopped, the road remains wet, so I have to be careful not to slip as I lengthen my stride. That said, I no longer need to leave anything in reserve. The faster I finish, the faster I can go...and I really need to now!

When I cross the timing mat and hand off to Mike, I am more relieved than anything...relieved to see an actual restroom just a few steps away!

Back in the van, I hand my timing chip to Mitch. Paige and I actually consider joining him on the anchor leg, so we can cross the finish line together, but, as we continue our ride towards Hana, Mitch reminds me that I have a marathon to run next week. Ditching my soaked shoes and socks for flip flops feels so good. I am so done.

More details about our finish coming soon...

Official photographs

My photographs

Unofficial Personal Results:
Total distance: 9.49 (according to GPS)
Total time: 01:18:21
Average pace: 08:15/Mile

Official Results:
Overall time for team "Off the Couch": 07:14:03
Team pace: 8:21/Mile
Overall place: 60 out of 121
First leg: 17:37 (37th)
Thirteenth leg: No data (WTF?!?)

Arrived on Maui

And I just got confirmation that I will be running the Hana Relay this Saturday!

Last night, while I was still packing for this marathon trip, my wife forwarded an e-mail from a coworker whose fiancee had been looking for an additional runner for the race. I was already familiar with the event, having read about it a couple of months ago, but figured it would be impossible to gather the necessary team of six runners with such little notice especially because I live on the mainland.

The Hana Relay is categorized as a "fun run" and none of my teammates are serious runners. In other words, I'll be treating this as a warm up for the marathon...to help me acclimate to the heat and humidity here (today it is in the mid-80's, but feels a LOT hotter!)