Short form: 4:15, hot & humid, lots and lots and lots of chafing, but no blisters
Long Form:
If you don’t like whining, spoiled-kid-who-didn’t-get-her-way-sounding race reports, you can just stop reading right here. The truth is, the race was fine. But I should wait until my mood improves before writing my race report. Nevertheless, here I sit in the Kona Commuter Terminal at the beginning of my 15 hour journey back to the mainland. It’s complicated, but suffice it to say, the airlines can’t follow logic, they can only follow the rules. Oh, and my bottom is wet because the chair I sat down on was wet, but I didn’t notice because it is so badly discolored. I’ll bet all of Kona was beautiful and in good condition years ago, but weather and time have sure taken their toll. Perhaps Kona and I have something in common. Years ago, I was in better shape, too.
I learned that many people think “marathon” means “road race” because countless times we were asked which marathon we were running. We’d answer “The Kona Marathon” and they’d say “Yes, but how far?” Trying not to show any exasperation at their stupidity, we’d answer “26 miles” or “26 point 2 miles”.
Allow me to focus on the race for a moment. I got up just after 4 AM and got ready. I’d opted to wear my Marathon Maniacs singlet as a conversation starter. It worked, but it’s tough to decide if I would give up the conversations for the chafing. I hope they create a women’s yellow MM shirt with short sleeves. At any rate, I met a gaggle of Maniacs from Oahu in the lobby of the hotel. We had a few photos taken then I made my way to warm up with Sissy. That was easy, but I was sweating profusely after just a short mile. We went to the start with Jenny. It was her first marathon, a fact not lost on the race announcer, Wit Raymond. He is an energetic announcer who is bilingual in Japanese and English. He went effortlessly between the two, which seemed very appropriate for this race. The Kona region has a strong Japanese influence.
I started the race running with Les, a maniac from Oahu. He was delightful to talk to and I wished I could run with him all the time, but his pace was a little quick for me and I needed to make a potty stop. After a few miles, I bid him farewell and ducked into a sani-can. Already doused in sweat, I reminded myself to drink “gatorade” at every water stop and I took an electrolyte strip my sister had given me.
Back on the course, I found myself chatting with Rick, a Maniac from Florida, who I had met the night before with Robert Lopez. Robert is a kick – lots of fun to talk to and filled with information. I really appreciated all his suggestions for us and his experience. But I digress. Back to the marathon.
We were joined by another Maniac from Ohio named Mike. After a few miles, Rick said he was going to back off a bit. Mike and I ran the entire rest of the race together. He’s a 55 year old science teacher from Dayton who is also trying to run a marathon in all 50 states. I think he has 32 states now, but I am not sure. The rest of the race is a blur, but I could tell you lots of facts I learned about Mike. Luckily, he was pretty rigid about taking his Gu, so I followed suit. We walked through the aid stations and hydrated properly. I didn’t die on the last 10K. I was tired, I was hot, and I could already feel the pain of chafing intensely, but I wasn’t out of gas. I could have run another 5 miles, but I didn’t really want to.
End result: My sister was 4th woman, 1st in our age group. Her daughter finished in 5 1/2 hours. Pretty incredible given the conditions! I admire her so much!! And I was 6th out of 30 in my age group.
Here’s the real complaining… Then I discovered a rash all over my legs. I thought I felt something when I was getting dressed, but I ignored it. By the end of the race, my legs were both angry and red and itchy sore. I went to the medical tent where I found Les and John (another 50 stater) and they joked about all the experienced ones being in the medical tent. I laughed and felt good to be a part of the club of experienced ones. But I had trouble convincing the attendants to give me Benedryl. He had it in his hands, but looked to the woman for support, yet he didn’t listen to all of her answer. They only gave me one, which wasn’t enough to do anything at all. Since my ailment wasn’t really race related, I didn’t feel like I had a leg to stand on, pardon the pun. So, I dragged my chaffed, sore body out to Long’s Drugs. My sister offered to go for me, which was very nice, but the maid hadn’t yet come and lying around in the hotel room wasn’t going to help me feel any better, so we all went. The Benedryl helped. Today the rash hardly bothers me at all. But my bottom is wet.
<> I’ll be glad to get home. Or at least back to Seattle.
