On December 19, I ran the Hawaii Bird Conservation Marathon on the Big Island of Hawaii. This race starts in Volcano and finishes in Hilo. It descends almost 4,000 feet, making it a very fast course.
I ran the inaugural race
in 2017. That was the year that I had back
surgery in June and didn’t run at all for the next three months. I race-walked several marathons, but I didn’t
run a marathon until I did this one. I was
terrified. I didn’t know if my back had
recovered sufficiently for me to run marathon, much less a downhill marathon. As it turns out, my back was fine, and I ran a
surprisingly fast time, considering that almost all of my training was
race-walking, rather than running.
It seems the more things
change, the more they stay the same.
This year, I’ve also been mostly race-walking. I got back into race-walking in April,
because I was recovering from a knee injury.
When I signed up for this
race, I was concerned about how my knee would handle a downhill race. I signed up for it because I thought it was a
quick and easy way to get a qualifying time for the 2023 Boston Marathon. The alternative, I assumed, was six months of
intense training, which couldn’t begin until my knee was 100 percent.
As it turns out, my knee
is doing much better. I ran my last few
marathons, but most of my training has still been race-walking. In spite of that, I had a surprisingly fast
time in the Philadelphia marathon four weeks ago. That’s the good news. The bad news is that I injured my lower back
in that race. For this race, I was no
longer worried about whether my knee would handle the downhill running. Instead, I was worried about how my lower
back would handle all the impact. Worried
might not be a strong enough word. I
think I was just as terrified this year as I was four years ago.
Until recently, you
couldn’t travel to Hawaii without a 10-day quarantine. Now, it’s possible to bypass the quarantine
if you’ve been vaccinated for covid-19. The
state of Hawaii has created a website called Safe Travels. A few weeks ago, I created an account and
uploaded my proof of vaccination. Then I
entered all details of my trip. The last
step was to fill out an online health questionnaire with 24 hours of my flight.
Then they sent me a QR code that I
needed before I could board my flight.
Thursday, December 16
I flew to Honolulu and
then had a short inter-island flight to Hilo.
When they scanned my Safe Travels QR code in Minneapolis, they gave me a
wrist band. Having that wristband
allowed me to bypass the document check in Honolulu. For people who didn’t have a wristband, it
was a long line.
My hotel was fairly close
to the airport in Hilo, so I didn’t have to drive too far. Still, by the time I checked in, it was 9:00
PM. In my own time zone, it would’ve
been 1:00 AM, so I was tired.
I stayed at the Grand Naniloa
Hotel. This is a nice hotel on the coast,
near downtown Hilo. They don’t have a swimming
beach, but they have a pool, a restaurant, and ocean views. It’s tough to arrive and immediately go to sleep,
but I got to bed as soon as I could.
Friday, December 17
I slept until 6:00 AM,
and I could’ve slept later. I only got up
when I did because I happened to glance at the clock. I easily could’ve gone back to sleep.
The race wasn’t until Sunday,
but I arrived a couple days early, so I would have time to do some
sightseeing. After breakfast, I drove to
Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. From
Hilo, it was a 45 minute drive. Before leaving,
I went online to get the latest news on volcanic activity within the park. I read that Halemaʻumaʻu crater was filling
with lava.
The highway leading to
the park is basically the marathon route, except I was driving it in the opposite
direction. This was a chance to reacquaint
myself with it. As soon as I got out of
Hilo, I noticed I was going uphill. The
road never seemed steep, but it was uphill all the way to the park. It was a reminder of what a 4,000 foot
elevation change looks like. It scared me
a little.
The national park is basically
self-service right now. There wasn’t
anyone at the booth where you would normally pay to enter the park. Instead, you can pay at the visitor center by
putting the money in an envelope and dropping it in a box. The visitor center is closed, but there’s usually
a park ranger outside to answer questions.
When I got there, there wasn’t any ranger, so I was on my own to find
the best place to view the eruption. I
made a point of getting to the park early, because the parking lots all fill up
if you wait too long. Not having a
chance to ask questions was the downside.
There were maps highlighting
a few places where it’s possible to view the eruption. I started with the Kilauea overlook. The road to get there was partially closed,
so I drove as far as I could and hiked to the viewing points I could get to from
there. From this side of the crater, all
I could see is stream rising from the crater.
While I was there, I
talked to two other tourists who said you could see more from an overlook on
the opposite side. I went there next.
Many of the roads and
trails in the park are closed for safety reasons. I drove as far as I could on Chain of Craters
Road, but had to stop and park where the road was blocked off. I parked in the parking lot for Desolation
Trail, but there was a sign saying you couldn’t see the eruption from that
trail. The sign directed tourists to
hike for a mile on Chain of Craters Road instead.
As I started walking down
the road, I was curious why it was safe to walk, but not safe to drive. I got my answer after walking about half a
mile. One lane was impassible because of
this crack. You could still walk around
it in the other lane, but two-way car traffic would’ve been a problem.
Eventually, there was a
sign showing where to leave the road and walk to an impromptu viewing area.
When I got close enough,
I saw steam rising from a vent near the western wall of Halemaʻumaʻu
crater. I looked closer and saw a small
spatter cone rising from the crater floor.
Occasionally, I would see a red-orange flash as lava spattered from the
top of this cone.
It was tough to get good
pictures with my phone. I had to zoom in
as far as possible and then try to hold the phone steady enough that the
pictures wouldn’t be blurry. My pictures
weren’t always timed well, so they really didn’t capture everything I was
seeing.
There was a sign
requesting that we only stay and watch for 10 minutes, so others can get a
chance to see. It wasn’t crowded yet
when I was there, but I left after about 10 minutes and hiked back to the car.
Before leaving the park,
I drove back to the visitor center to see if there was a park ranger there. When I saw the ranger, I asked her if there were
any other parking areas within walking distance from that viewing area. I was interested in coming back in the
evening to see the same view after dark.
The ranger said there’s
another parking lot that’s a half mile farther from that viewing area, but it’s
small, and both of these parking lots tend to be full all afternoon and well
into the evening. She suggested the only
way to be sure of finding parking was to come after 8:00 PM.
On my drive back to Hilo,
I drove through a brief rain shower.
That was a reminder that I was on the rainy side of the island. I had to be prepared for the possibility of
rain during my race. I also had to be
prepared for rain in the park if I came back later.
When I was here four
years ago, I discovered a restaurant in Hilo called Café Pesto. I remembered they had good pizza, so I went
there for lunch. I had their luau pizza,
which is topped with pulled pork, pineapple, and smoked mozzarella. You haven’t really had pineapple on pizza
until you’ve had one made with fresh pineapple.
Canned pineapple isn’t the same.
After lunch, I went back
to the hotel to relax for a while. When
I arrived the night before, it was already dark, so I never noticed the view
from my hotel room. In daylight, I had a
nice ocean view.
Here are some of the
views from the hotel grounds.
Before long, it started
to feel hot. It was only 77 degrees, but
the humidity was high, and direct sunlight in Hawaii is pretty intense. To best enjoy the weather, I found a beach
where I could spend the rest of the afternoon swimming in the ocean.
By the time I got back to
the hotel and showered, it was almost time for dinner. I considered driving back to Hawaii Volcanoes
National Park and taking my chances on finding parking. When I saw dark clouds in that direction, I
changed my mind. I think I made the
right call. It rained all evening, and I
kept hearing thunder. Instead of going
out again, I had dinner in the hotel restaurant.
Earlier in the day, I
thought I had adjusted well to the time zone.
After dinner, I realized my body was still adjusting. I was already getting sleepy. Rather than fight it, I went to bed early. I slept well for about half the night, but I
spent the second half resting in bed, trying to get back to sleep.
Saturday, December 18
It wasn’t raining when I
got up, but a shower passed through while I was eating breakfast. There was more rain in the forecast for both
Hilo and Volcano. That made it difficult
to plan my day. I tended to stay close to
Hilo, never committing to anything that would have me outside for longer than I
could count on dry weather.
After breakfast, I
visited a number of oceanside parks that are just south of Hilo Bay, near the
airport. Some of them are called “beach”
parks, but they aren’t really what I would call a beach. They had rocky shorelines that aren’t
suitable for swimming. They’re more
suitable for a picnic with ocean views.
Each of these pictures is from a different park.
I waited for a brief rain
shower to pass. Then I drove to the
Hawaii Tropical Botanical Gardens, which are about 10 miles north of Hilo. They have a paved trail loop through the
rainforest, with 2,000 species of plants.
There are also streams with waterfalls and ocean views.
I had to wait out another
brief rain shower. Then I went to the
Pana’ewa Rainforest Zoo in Hilo.
While I was at the zoo, it started sprinkling lightly. As I was leaving, it started raining harder. It would’ve been a good time for a lunch break, but I was still full from a big breakfast. I opted to skip lunch in favor of an early dinner. I went back to the hotel to take a break and wait for the rain to stop.
Packet pickup was at the
Boy Scouts of America camp in Hilo, which is also where the race finishes. When I picked up my race packet, I found out I
was going to be in the first wave. I
also confirmed that the course doesn’t have any mile markers, so I needed to
use my GPS watch if I wanted to know where I was on the course. One of the race organizers grows bananas on
his property, so they were giving out bananas.
I picked up one to eat for breakfast.
Finally, the race shirt was a long sleeve T-shirt with this artwork on
it.
For dinner, I went back
to Café Pesto. Instead of driving, I
walking to and from dinner. That turned out
to be a mistake. On my way back, I got
caught in a rainstorm. I walked back as
quickly as I could. It was the fastest I’ve
walked in weeks. The good news: walking
that fast didn’t bother my back. The bad
news: my clothes were soaked. Fortunately,
I had a different pair of shoes to wear for the race.
I needed to get up early,
so I went to bed as early as I could. I
basically took off my wets clothes and climbed right into bed. I was asleep by 7:00. I slept well for about five hours. Then the fire alarm went off, and a recorded message
told us all to evacuate the building via the nearest exit. I assumed it was most likely a false alarm,
but I had to evacuate until they knew that for sure.
The clothes I wore earlier
were still wet, so I had to find clothes that were dry. My shoes were also wet, so I had to wear the running
shoes I brought for the race. After
getting dressed, I grabbed my phone and room card and headed for the nearest
stairwell.
I didn’t take the time to
grab my wallet, which was also still wet.
I also left my car keys and other important things in the room. As I followed the other guests down seven
flights of stairs, it occurred to me that I’d be in a bad situation if the
building was actually on fire, and I lost everything I left in the room.
When I got outside, it
was raining. I had to find a place where
I would have shelter from the rain. I
was running out of dry clothes. I was
also wearing my only dry pair of shoes, and I needed to wear these shoes for
the race.
About 10 minutes after leaving
the building, we got the all clear to return to our rooms. I knew it would be a long wait for an
elevator, so I took the stairs again. By
the time I got back to my room, I was wide awake. I climbed back into bed , but I wasn’t able
to get back to sleep. When it was time
to get up, I was still awake.
Sunday, December 19
Sunday was race day. I had to take a bus from the finish area to where
the race starts in Volcano. The bus left
at 4:30 AM. I didn’t want to risk
missing it, so I got there almost 30 minutes early. It’s not as if I lost any sleep by arriving
early. I had been awake since midnight
anyway.
It was still raining when
I got up, but the rain stopped before I left the hotel. It started raining again shortly after I got
to the boy scout camp. There was a
building there with bathrooms. As soon
as the rain stopped for good, I made a bathroom stop. Then I boarded the bus.
It took about 45 minutes
to get to the starting area. The race
started on Pi’imauna Drive, next to a golf course in Volcano village. The bus stayed there until after the race
started, so we could sit on the bus and stay warm. The temperature at the start was 57
degrees. That was several degrees warmer
than it was four years ago, but it still would’ve been chilly if we had to wait
outside for 45 minutes.
The race started at 6:00. It was still dark, and the highway we were
running on wasn’t closed to traffic. We
had to wear brightly-colored clothes, carry flashlights, and run on the
shoulder.
We had to start the race
in waves of 25 runners each. The waves
started five minutes apart. I was in the
first wave. On Pi’imauna Drive, there
was plenty of room to run. When we
turned onto Highway 11, the shoulder was narrow, so there wasn’t any room for
passing for at least a mile.
Pi’imauna Drive is downhill. When we turned onto the highway, it was
slightly uphill, but only for a few minutes.
Then we reached the sign marking the high elevation on the road, which
is 4,024 feet. After passing that sign,
the road leveled off and gradually turned downhill.
I didn’t have to think
too hard about how fast to start. I just
followed the runner in front of me. I didn’t
have room to pass, and I didn’t want to hold up traffic for people behind
me. I just locked into the same pace as
the runner ahead of me.
This race descends 3,768
feet from start to finish. This was the
sixth time I’ve run a marathon that descends that much. It took until the fourth one to learn how to
do it right. The most important lesson from
my first three downhill races is that you shouldn’t try to control your
pace. Trying to do that not only wastes
energy, but it’s harder on your body.
The best thing to do is to stay relaxed and find the pace that feels
easiest. Once I had room to run at my
own pace, that’s what I did. I tried not
to put any extra energy into going faster, but I also didn’t waste any energy slowing
myself down.
The first time I ran a
steep downhill race, I developed Achilles tendonitis. It’s really easy to overstride when you’re
running downhill for an entire race. I
eventually learned that I had to take short rapid strides to guard against overstriding. That’s easier said than done. It takes strong flexible hips. Fortunately, race-walking is the perfect way
to train for it.
I ran the first mile in
8:31. I thought that was a good pace,
considering that mile was relatively flat.
It was faster than a Boston-qualifying pace, and that was my primary
goal. I knew, in all likelihood, I would
run faster than that. My best guess was
that I would finish with a time in the 3:30s.
In 2017, I ran it in 3:28:13, but I think I was better trained that
year.
In the second mile, there
was a little more room on the shoulder.
I passed two other runners in that mile.
It was slightly downhill, so it was faster. I ran that one in 8:01. The third mile was similar. I slowed by just a few seconds.
I’m not sure how my pace
in those three miles compare to 2017. I
was wearing a different watch then. It
recorded my splits, but I couldn’t read them in the dark. The watch I wear now lights up briefly when
it’s displaying a split, so I was always able to read them.
Roughly three miles into
the race, we turned onto Old Volcano Road, which allowed us to bypass the
highway for almost two miles. I suspect
the course is laid out that way to make it easier to find room for aid
stations. This early in the race, there
just wasn’t enough room on the shoulder of the highway.
This was my favorite part
of the course. There’s hardly any
traffic on this road, so we were no longer confined to the shoulder. It also allowed us to bypass a hill. On Highway 11, the road is more sharply
downhill, but then turns uphill. On Old
Volcano Road, it was only slightly downhill, but it never turned uphill.
While I was still on Old
Volcano Road, I recorded my split for the fourth mile. It was 7:45, which was just a few second
slower than the same mile in 2017.
By the time we returned
to Highway 11, there was enough light to see without using a flashlight. There were two aid stations where you could
drop off a flashlight, but I put mine in my fanny pack. It doesn’t weigh much, and I didn’t want to
risk it getting damaged.
For the rest of the race,
the highway had a wider shoulder. Now
there was plenty of room to run, and if necessary, there was room to pass. By now, we were getting pretty spread out, so
there wasn’t much need to pass.
We were starting the
fastest section of the course. For the
next few miles, the grade was about as steep as it gets. I ran the fifth mile in 7:18. That surprised me. In 2017, I ran that same mile in 7:41. That made me wonder if I would continue
running that fast. I did. My next two miles were 7:20 and 7:13.
In 2017, one of my rules
was to never second-guess my pace. I
maintained a fast cadence and let gravity do most of the work. I didn’t worry if the pace seemed too
fast. At the time, I didn’t know how
fast I should expect to run. This year, I
could compare my splits to 2017. I was
going faster, but I didn’t know why. Was
I better at maintaining a fast cadence or was I putting too much effort into it.
Ideally, I wanted to put
effort into my turnover, and I didn’t want to put any additional effort into
forward motion. Maybe I was also putting
effort into speeding up, but I didn’t realize it.
I tried to compare my
effort in this race to my effort four weeks ago in the Philadelphia Marathon. I didn’t think I was working harder, but I
was working different muscle groups. It
wasn’t as easy comparison.
The shoulder had a slight
camber to it. It wasn’t enough to feel
uncomfortable, but we were on the same side of the road for the entire
race. I wondered if I was striking the
ground hard with one leg. I wondered if
that would gradually take a toll on my back.
For the time being, I wasn’t noticing my back, but I wasn’t that far
into the race.
There was more than one
layer of asphalt. The top layer covered
the driving lanes and about half of each shoulder. The layer underneath was wider. The outer half of the should only had this
one layer.
The top layer of asphalt
was in better condition. It didn’t have
any crack or potholes. Unfortunately, it
was this layer that had a noticeable camber.
The layer underneath wasn’t as smooth, but it was move level.
At first, I was running
on the right side of the shoulder, which had the better quality pavement. Eventually, I switched to the left side, so there
wouldn’t be as much camber.
The aid stations were
spaced roughly two miles apart. Half of
them had water and Gatorade. The other
half just had water. I drank Gatorade if
it was available, but I always drank something.
Because I was going so fast, I usually had to stop or slow to a walk
while grabbing a cup.
After about seven miles,
the grade leveled out a bit. We were
still going downhill, but it wasn’t as noticeable. For the next four miles, my splits were in
the 7:40s and 7:50s.
At times, I saw what
looked like hills. I noticed the same
thing when I was driving the road in this direction. I wasn’t sure if the road was actually
turning uphill, or if it was an optical illusion. When you’re going downhill and the road ahead
of you levels off, it can look like it’s uphill.
In my next mile, I slowed
to 8:01. I don’t think that mile was
actually uphill, but it was closer to being level. On sections like this, I allowed myself to take
a longer, more relaxed stride. When the
road turned downhill again, I switched back to a short rapid stride.
The mile after that one really
seemed like it was slightly uphill. I
commented to another runner, who also thought it felt like we were going
uphill. Next to the road, there was a
ditch. Water from recent rains was
draining down a hillside into the ditch.
Inside the ditch, the water was flowing downhill. From the direction the water was flowing, it
was obvious that we were, in fact, running uphill in that mile.
I ran the uphill mile in
8:09. That really surprised me. I wouldn’t have expected to run that fast in
a flat mile, much less than an uphill mile.
I wondered if I put too much effort into that mile.
As the road turned
downhill again, I got back to my previous pace.
My next several mile times were all in a range between 7:39 and 7:51.
So far, I was running
faster than I did in 2017. I think I
started to get emotionally attached to the idea of breaking 3:30 again. That, in turn, led me to push too hard in
some miles.
This race doesn’t have
any mile markers, but there are mileposts along the highway. We turn off the highway and run to the finish
line just before reaching milepost 4. Anywhere
else along the highway, you can get a good estimate of the remaining distance,
by subtracting four from the current milepost.
I thought I was about 12
miles into the race when I saw milepost 16.
I was actually only 12 miles from finishing. I had been reading my splits after every
mile, but I never looked at the distance my watch was recording. Instead, I was just counting the miles in my
head. Sometimes, I noticed my time for
the last mile, but didn’t mentally record that I had finished another
mile. I was pleased to realize I was
already in the second half of the race.
A couple miles back, I
saw a video camera on the side of the road, next to two volunteers who were recording
each runner’s bib number. At the time, I
thought I was only 11 miles into the race.
I thought that was an odd place for a checkpoint. Now, I realized that was the halfway point.
There are signs next to
the highway for every 500 feet of elevation change. A couple miles back, I had seen the 2,000
feet sign. I realized now that it was
pretty close to the halfway point. In
the first half of the race, we descended more than 2,000 feet. In the second half, we would descend closer
to 1,700 feet. The second half isn’t
quite as fast.
By now, I was noticing
some drizzle. It wasn’t enough to get my
clothes too wet, but it started to rinse sweat off my face. I noticed a salty taste in my mouth as the
sweat washed into it.
As you descend toward
Hilo, the temperature and humidity both climb.
The late miles can feel brutally hot.
The drizzle helped with that. We also
had a persistent breeze. That also
helped with the heat.
In the first half of the
race, we rarely crossed another road. As
we got closer to Hilo, we occasionally came to an intersection. There were volunteers in orange vests to make
sure we got through each crossing safely.
At one crossing, I
accelerated as I crossed the street, even though no cars were coming. As I did that, I briefly felt a twinge in my
right knee. I only felt that the one
time. It’s odd that my knee bothered me on
this brief acceleration, yet never bothered me when I was running downhill.
Before much longer, I
noticed my lower back for the first time.
That discomfort was more persistent, but it was something I could easily
tune out. I always knew this race would
be hard on my back. I was just hoping it
wouldn’t do too much damage.
When I saw milepost 14, I
knew I had about 10 miles to go. I
remembered finishing mile 15, but I didn’t remember finishing mile 16. Once again, I noticed my time for a mile
without updating my count of how many miles I finished. It wouldn’t be the last time.
For most of the race,
there were mileposts every mile. As we
got closer to Hilo, I sometimes saw mileposts with half mile increments. The first one of those I noticed was milepost
12.5. At that point, I could tell myself
I had 8.5 miles to go. I was slightly
more than two thirds done. I realized,
however, that the remaining third would be as difficult as the first two thirds
combined. I could tell by now that my
pace was taking a toll on me. I was
feeling the fatigue.
With roughly eight miles
to go, I saw the sign for an elevation of 1,000 feet. I had descended 1,000 feet in the previous
five miles. That’s an average of 200
feet per mile. In the remaining eight
miles, I would descend less than 800 feet.
That’s less than half as steep. I
wondered now if I would be able to keep up the same pace. For the next two miles, I did, but I had to
work much harder.
It was still
drizzling. It wasn’t coming down any
harder, but the road was completely wet.
I sometimes felt spray from passing cars. I also noticed that the pavement was getting
slick.
With six miles to go, the
drizzle finally stopped, but the road was still slick. As we got closer to the finish, but pavement
was much more smooth. I was starting to
notice a loss of traction.
I ran mile 21 in
8:07. At first, I was disappointed that
I was no longer faster than eight minutes per mile. Then I asked myself what pace I was hoping to
average the rest of the way. I realized
I’d be pretty happy if all my remaining miles were as fast as 8:07.
With five miles to go, I
needed to average roughly 8:41 per mile if I was going to break 3:30. When I compared that to my current pace, it
sounded easy. Then I reminded myself
that my average pace in the Philadelphia Marathon was only two second faster
than that, and that was an effort that took everything I’ve got. It’s not as easy pace.
My next mile took 8:22. That wasn’t as fast as the previous mile, but
it was faster than I needed to be. Then
I sped up to 8:07 in the next mile. With
three miles to go, I could break 3:30 by averaging nine minutes per mile.
This is the point where
the race starts to get tough. Mile 24 is
the toughest mile of the race. It starts
out flat and ends with a hill. On the
flat section, I could tell I was slowing down, but I tried to limit the
damage. Then I got to the hill. Previously, there had been sections that were
only slightly uphill. This was the first
hill that really looked and felt like a hill.
As I started up the hill,
I quickly ran out of gas. I wasn’t
trying to keep up the same pace. I was
just trying to get to the top. At first,
I wanted to slow way down. Then I
realized what I really wanted to do was walk.
If I merely slowed down, I probably wouldn’t break 3:30, but I would
only lose a few minutes. If I started
walking, I could give up huge chucks of time.
I worked too hard for too long to give it all away in the last few
miles.
My next mile split came
right at the top of the hill. I ran that
mile in 9:20. The only way I could break
3:30 now was to speed up again in the last two miles. I could see the next mile was downhill. It didn’t help. Even going downhill, I couldn’t pick up the
race. When I finished that mile, I was
dismayed to realize I actually slowed down.
I ran that mile in 10:22.
Now I was just struggling
to get to the finish. The next mile
seemed to go on forever. I knew we would
eventually leave the highway to turn onto a road called Stainback Highway. I knew we would cross another road just before
that. In the distance, I could see two
runners who were well ahead of me. One
was wearing a bright yellow shirt.
I came to a crossing that
I assumed was the one before Stainback.
Looking ahead, I expect to see the runners ahead of me turning. They kept going straight. The next crossing wasn’t Stainback. When I finally reached that crossing myself,
I saw it was Mamaki Street. This was the
street before Stainback.
Ahead of me, I could still
see the yellow shirt. I also saw an
orange shirt. Then the yellow shirt
disappeared. I realized the person
wearing orange was the volunteer showing us where to turn. All the volunteers wore reflective orange
vests.
I still had to get to
that turn myself. I was moving slowly,
just grinding it out. I knew exactly
what to expect when I made that turn. I
would only have two tenths of a mile to go, but it was all uphill.
I forget if I saw my 26
mile split before or after the turn. I
ran that mile in 10:47. I knew I was
close to the finish, but I couldn’t see it.
There’s a bend in the road before the finish. I could see the hill, but I couldn’t see the
finish line.
When I finally saw it, I
did my best to finish strong, but I had nothing left. I eventually crossed the line in
3:33:43.5. Officially, that’ll go into
the books as 3:33:44. That’s a Boston qualifier
with more than 16 minutes to spare.
At the start of the day,
I expected a time in the 3:30s. That’s
what I did, but the way I did it was disappointing. I was 11 minutes slower in the second half of
the race. I can attribute about half of
that to the first half of the race being easier. The other half was just poor pacing. More than once during the first half of the
race, I wondered if I was working too hard.
I was. It wasn’t sustainable.
After I crossed the line,
I was offered a glass of water. I knew I
had been sweating heavily, so I eagerly accepted it.
The finisher medals for this race resemble dog tags, but they have artwork similar to the T-shirts. In addition to the medal, each finisher received a bag of coffee grown on the island.
There were a variety of
post-race snacks. After finishing my
water, I had a can of Pepsi and a Nutri-Grain bar. I wasn’t ready to eat anything more than
that.
Immediately after the
race, I had sore hamstrings and calves and tight Achilles tendons. Surprisingly, I didn’t notice any soreness in
my quads. I didn’t notice any soreness
in my back immediately after finishing, but I noticed it after driving back to
the hotel.
I rinsed off the sweat
and then took a hot bath to loosen up my stiff muscles. I stretched my quads, hamstrings, calves, and
Achilles tendons. Then I worked on my
calves and hamstrings with a massage stick.
The pants and shoes that
got wet yesterday were dry now, so I was able to get dressed and go to
lunch. I didn’t feel like driving
anywhere, so I had lunch at the hotel.
My favorite post-race meal is pizza, but I have a tradition of
celebrating a BQ with BBQ. I was able to
do both. The restaurant at the hotel has
a BBQ pork pizza.
When I signed up for this
race, I needed a BQ for 2023. I qualified
in Philadelphia, so I didn’t really need a qualifier in this race. I was strongly motivated to qualify again in
this race, because I came into this race with 149 lifetime Boston
qualifiers. This was my 150th BQ.
As I compiled a few
statistics for this race, I noticed an interesting one. My average pace was 8:09. In the entire race, I only had five miles
that were slower than that. Three of
them were the last three miles of the race, and those miles were much
slower.
Earlier, I had thoughts
of going back to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park in the evening, so I could see
the glow of the lava after dark. After
the race, I realized that wasn’t feasible.
I didn’t think sitting in the car for that long would be good for my
lower back. I also didn’t know if I
would be up to two or three miles of hiking.
Finally, I had been awake since midnight, and I didn’t know how well I
could handle driving back in thee dark when I would be fighting to stay awake.
I fully expect I’ll have
more soreness tomorrow. The real question
is how much my back will bother me. I’ll
have a better idea in the next few days.
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