The Kona (but really, Waikoloa) Marathon Wrap Up

On the eve of the marathon, I was terrified and dejected. I knew that my weight was up ten pounds since my last official marathon (two years ago), and that my training was sporadic at best. My longest pre-race training run was a very half-arsed 17 miles...so I couldn't imagine adding another 9 miles on top of that in the stifling Waikoloa heat. The last time I'd run a marathon with such shoddy training was the single most painful marathon experience I've ever endured (Big Island International in '09). It was the one and only race I wanted to walk off the race course because it hurt so bad. I remember barely being able to walk to my hotel room after the race and cramping up badly. Needless to say, I was filled with terror going into today's race knowing that I was also a lot heavier and 6 years older than the last hurt fest. My fear and anxiety were so high that they successfully counteracted a heavy dose of sleeping pills- I tossed and turned until midnight...getting only four solid hours of sleep before my alarm went off at 4am.

Thankfully, I had the company of my sister in law, Lynne, on the drive out, and despite our mutual nervousness, swore that we would silence the negative voices and think positively.

The Three Musketeers became two...we missed you dearly KGH. You were mentioned more than once on the drive out. :-( Someday, someday...we will run together again.

The first ten miles I never felt great, which only fueled my nervousness. And unlike most other marathons, it seemed to take for freaking ever to get to the halfway point. The miles seemed to just drag on endlessly. Though I've consistently run 2:09s the last so many years I've done the Kona half, I knew that a 2:20-25 was far more realistic based on how I was feeling/moving. And I think that's about what I clocked.

However, despite feeling very weak, heavy and crappy, I had a plan. And that plan was to fuel up like I had never done before- I consumed a gel every 3 miles. And at almost every aid station, I took a cup each of water and Gatorade (one I swilled down quickly, the other I poured into my Fuel Belt bottle (to sustain me until the next aid station), a cup of ice (which went down the front of my shirt, under my cap or in the front/back of my shorts), and a fourth cup of water to toss down the front of my chest or my back. So while it took a minute or two of awkwardly jostling 3-4 cups per aid station (costing me many, many minutes), I didn't care. I knew that properly fueling with liquids and solids, and staying as cool as possible were my only hope of surviving the race intact.

I figured that since I'd run my worst race ever at the Big Island International of 5:15, that I'd shoot for a 5:30-45 based on my higher weight/poor training/heat. What I hadn't expected was that possibly because I took it so easy on the first half, imbibed lots of extra liquid/fuel and just ran a full at the end of March...that for the first time ever, I did not hit the wall. I'd heard it was possible, but didn't think someone of my caliber would be able to experience that. I felt steady the entire second half of the race...which was truly, quite freaky. I felt the same at mile 7 as I did at 14, 18 and 22. From mile 15 or so, I seemed to catch a second wind and 'knew' that I wasn't going to finish in 6 hours, or even 5:30. I figured if I kept throttling back, I'd be able to maintain my pace so that I'd have a shot at breaking the 5 hour mark (something I've only ever done twice before, and not once in the last 7 years).

While I never quite felt like a rock star out there, I never felt that level of exhaustion where you feel like you can't run another step. There were times I felt like running downhill at a faster clip to make up all the time I was spending at aid stations, but I didn't. I forced myself to take it easy and run at 85% effort. I took liberal breaks to text Rich updates on my location, and a few potty breaks. The last three to four miles of the race I had my eye on my phone, so I knew that it was possible to break 5 hours without killing myself and losing bladder control in the process. ;-)

Very jubilant that my age, heft and crappy training miraculously did not stop me from a decent race.

I crossed the line in 4:58...my third best marathon, and my best in the last 7 years (my other two sub-5 hour races were pre-Ryan). I saw Rich, Ry, my brother and niece at the finish line (I was so sure I was gonna suck that I told my parents not to come). Since Rich and Ry tell me I stink so badly after a long run, and because I could literally squeeze out a pound of stinky brown water from my shoes, socks, shorts, bra and shirt- I freshened up after the race for the first time and was 'clean' enough to cuddle my sweet niece rocking her too cool for school new shades.

A few post race pics...(not many during the race since I ordered everyone to stay at the finish line and avoid the heat)...

Is there a cuter child in all of America? I think not.

Team Fruits in da hiz-ouse

You can see my three shades of flesh post-shower from my training and race shorts...which reminds me of Neopolitan ice cream. ;-) Gross, but also undeniably rad.

My friend Rose got us a celebratory cupcake to enjoy post race...so cute and thoughtful!

Though I normally weigh in at the same weight post-race as I do pre (what you aim to do to avoid under or over hydrating), I actually weighed in about 2 lbs heavier post race. As a result, I spent the next FOUR hours peeing every 20 minutes. Sorry if that's TMI, but even I was shocked at how much liquid my body retained. Quite frankly, I'm shocked I didn't over hydrate and suffer from hyponatremia (to guard against this I also took five salt pills along the race), or even feel water uncomfortably sloshing around my stomach.

I did have one funny moment post-race waiting near the car for Rich and trying to stretch. I attempted to do a standard 'prayer' move with my arms behind my back to open up my chest, when my left shoulder spasmed and locked up. It looked like my left arm was possessed as I wildly flailed around trying to jerk it back into place. Who runs a marathon and injures their shoulder?! Geesh.

All in all, it was a very good race. The course isn't easy with its rolling hills (three loops inside Waikoloa Beach Drive!), long, hot climb along Queen K back to the Kiholo Bay lookout and of course- the boiling heat, but things could have been far, far worse. There was a reasonable breeze (not the usual Waikoloa 25 mph), and it was not nearly as hot/humid as the day's prior. Plus, the race was well organized, well staffed and scenic (though I was way too tired to look at the ocean). I loved the out and back course too- you get to see your friends more and people/runner watch (which passes the time). They had the COOLEST logo gear ever...everyone's names on t-shirts and towels? Brilliant! I really wanted a shirt, but at $36 for a cotton t-shirt? :-( Yikes. A little too high for my budget...

 My only complaints?

1. Having to drive out there two days in a row (to pick up our race packet on Sat, then race on Sun). It would be nice to opt to pick it up at a satellite location in Kona for those of us too broke to spend $250-300 to stay the night in Waikoloa.

2. Though I understand the ease of holding the event in Waikoloa (with regards to road closures), this again, requires us po' Kona folk to have to wake up at 3:45-4:00 to drive out to a race that is in our 'backyard'. Just a little bit of bummer, that's all.

3. Starting the half and the full at the same time made for a bit of road jam the first mile. They used to space the races out by 30 minutes...pretty please do that again? Even a fifteen minute spread would be supremely helpful.

4. A few more port-a-potties at the starting line wouldn't hurt. The lines are always atrocious, and I know they cost an arm and a leg, but at 5 minutes to the marathon starting line there must have been 125+  people in line.

5. A fee more aid stations on Queen K. I know exactly when I should see a water station (every mile) after nearly a decade of running. This race did not have them. And even an extra 2/10 of mile longer = thirst. The heat out there on the black pavement is intense. We need water/ice/electrolytes a little more frequently, and I know I wasn't the only one who noticed this...

Though I'm definitely appreciative to have done so well despite my crappy health/training...I'm also well aware that I dodged a bullet. And if I expect to do reasonably well in Honolulu this December, I need to learn from my mistakes on this race. Namely, I need to buck up and make my training a priority. Sure, life can get stressful, but I have no one to blame but myself for not training properly. And I never want to experience the fear/dread I've felt over the last few days going into the race (which I've never felt before, because I've usually trained properly).

As always, I'm thankful to the race director and her crew, the over 350 volunteers who stood in the blazing sun for us, and to my husband for his constant support on race day and every Sunday I'm out there shuffling.

I'm not sure how many more of these long races I have in me. I know there are incredible 50, 60 and 70 year-olds who can still bang out impressive marathon times, but honestly- 26.2 isn't that alluring for me. I've always said 13.1 is my distance, and once Honolulu is over...I'd like to refocus on that. I'm nearly 41 years old, a little chunky and adverse to hard, physical work- so I know my limits. ;-)

I'm not sure what I'll sign up for next year...the half? The quarter with Ry? I do know that after running three fulls this year, that I'll need a break. Once I can tick off LA and NYC off my race bucket list, I may look at returning to the half permanently.

I've learned so many priceless lessons over the past 24-48 hours- always think positive, never, ever give up, that the kindness and well wishes of friends pre and post race are part of what makes a race so special, to prioritize yourself and get those miles in the bank, fuel up with twice the liquids, gel and salt you think you need if you're chunky and haven't trained well...and no more shirking training. Ever. Ever.

Toodles,
J