Holoholo at Kiholo

A few day ago I realized that winter break was ending, but that I hadn't really planned anything fun/outdoors with the kids since our trip to the snow on Christmas Eve. And to my eternal shame...it's been awhile since we've been to the beach, so I hurriedly tried to throw together a family beach day.

I selfishly wanted to take advantage of the distance to the beach to attempt my first long run since the marathon, so I asked Rich if he'd mind making the picnic lunch so I could get up early and head out there. I started just before dawn (always creepy when you're solo on a trail), and ooooh my. Someone is already out of long-run shape. My legs felt fatigued and sore for the first 4 miles. And once I gained momentum (mostly because of a downhill grade and caffeine that finally kicked in) miles 5-7, I ran out of energy! Around mile 11 I realized that I'd dropped my last gel somewhere, so I didn't have any fuel from mile 8 on. Around mile 12, my normal refueling time, I tried to comfort myself with extra water and by slowing down, hoping to trick my body into not knowing it wasn't getting fuel. But if it's there is thing I've learned over time, it's that you cannot trick my body into forgetting a meal. So I started to putter out a bit...only running about 15 mostly sad/slow miles instead of the hopeful 16-17.

My headset died right when my fuel ran out, so the miles from 11 on were not the most enjoyable. But I'm still grateful and glad I was out there.

Rich and the family caravaned out to the bay, and picked me up along the way. We slogged out the mile-long hike to the bay in the thick, black sand, made a bit more challenging weighed down by so much water, food, towels, sunscreen and snorkeling gear (and six kids). We passed the collapsed, brackish water-filled lava tubes (too cold to take a dip in), a few turtles resting, and the usual adorable mini bridges over to the fish ponds.

The little white dots on the sand bar are turtles, and the people are...us. ;-)

Once we got to our little swim area, the view was as glorious and as perfect as I remember it. A dozen turtles were sunning on the sand bar, with the water/skies as clear and blue as can be.

I know we all had a pretty magical day there that could've easily lasted longer, but RN Rich not only drilled a hole in his foot the day before (building a painting platform for us), so his foot was sore...but he also had to run and check on his overwhelmed unit later that afternoon. So kudos to him for cooking everyone lunch, schlepping in all our gear with his aching foot and not even being able to go into the water (staph is no laugh), etc. We left the beach about one, as he had to rush to the hospital (to work, not get his foot stitched), so I was stuck with the aftermath of four excited kids, a dusty car to wash, endless sandy bags to unpack, and the task of cooking two vegan pies in time for a dinner with friends later that night. But Team M pulled it off, and it can now go down as an exhausting, but fun day. I was pleased because I think I racked up about 17 miles that day (the latter two in thick sand, with a 3-year old on my back half the time), and rewarded myself with about 398,442 calories at dinner, because it's only fair.

The only downside of the day, if there was one, was the sheer number of visitors to the beach that day. It's unmarked, and quite tucked away, but I think we still saw a few hundred people (nearly all visitors, as evidenced by their very white/red bodies) there. The last time we were there a few years ago, there were perhaps a dozen. So clearly that darned guidebook that now tells visitors about EVERY SINGLE LAST SACRED SPOT on the island will soon be overrun by people flocking to see the resting turtles (who get run off the sand bar by jerks taking selfies, picking them up, etc). We had to scold a few girls who were waaaay over the line yesterday with them yesterday. Some people don't seem to understand that the turtles are resting, and humans unnerve them a bit. Sitting right next to them and loudly laughing and taking pictures results in them taking off into the water, ruining it for everyone else. I try to tell myself that every visitor deserves to see every inch of the beauty of our island, but you know what? Some do not. They need to keep their grabby, germy fingers off the turtle shells, and to go visit Kabul instead. Preferably in summer.

Today is our last day of break, and I'll be spending it painting *weeping noises* and then briefly, with two young girls while my mom is at senior yoga, and my dad is out hustling. I'm hoping our evening is spent on the sofa, with a bowl of a fattening snack, and our (bleeding and not-bleeding) feet up.