Multiples, Madness , Muddy Trails, and Too Many Birthdays

Mike Muench runs far badly as he approaches the cusp of birthday runs.

“Well here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten us into!” I muttered to myself as I marched toward the group of waiting runners. My inner self walked at my side, a silly dumb smile on his face while he scratched himself lamely. I shook my head. I was in deep on this one.

I’d picked the worst set of connected trials I could think of for my ‘birthday run’. About sixty miles of the nasty, rocky, rooty, muddy, and steep trails. Then to add some spice I’d planned it so a good portion would be done at night. A five and a half mile stretch of paths that led from below Lyon Arboretum to Manoa Falls, up the side of Manoa Cliffs to Pauoa Flats, over to Nu’uanu, and down the Nu’uanu and Judd trails to Jack-ass Ginger. Repeated, it is about 10.8 to eleven miles depending on how one recons the distance. I’d committed to doing about six loops, a distance which would put me past 58 miles, my newly acquired age.

Of course I’d done all this committing when I had been sitting on my fat ass in front of the computer. It seemed like a lark then, my birthday far in the future, and no need to do anything but jiggle the ice in the glass of my third drink, get out of the chair, belch, rip a flatulent response, and roll into bed. It was like playing a great joke on somebody—lining up a mad and insane idea of a run and inviting everyone along so he couldn’t back out. Hahaha, I laughed to myself as I rolled over in bed. “That poor bastard is going to suffer!” I chuckled as I fell asleep, a demented grin on my face.

So when I finally met up with my destiny that Friday evening I was none too happy with what I’d set myself up for. I could have kicked my self up the hill—not that it would have done me one ounce of good. Some damn joke I’d managed to play on myself. “One of these days I’ll get that crazy sob for this!” I thought to myself. Of course I kind of realized I would only screwing myself to the wall—again, but there is a certain aspect of my personality, one which emerges during phases of end stage inebriation, that takes a perverse pleasure in subjecting me to seemingly masochistic endeavors. I’ve learned to live with this uneasily and regard it as no more than the sophomoric pranks of a kind of black-sheep uncle. What else does one call the psychotic aspect of one’s personality?

To make matters worse I was actually feeling pretty bad. I was sweaty and weak before even getting out of the car. I could feel that itchy ‘I got to sneeze’ feeling in my nose, and my sinuses were reacting to something in the air by flushing themselves intermittently. If it had been anybody else’s birthday I would have gone home, taken a hot shower and slept it off. But Uncle Mike had taken that possibility into account a month before and invited a bunch of people to come out and engage in this insanity with me. I stood there bound to going out and staring at a sea of dark smiling faces, lights, and head lamps.

“Thanks for coming, I said. It was an outright lie. What I really wanted to say was. “Look I changed my mind. I’m suddenly much smarter now that I’m 58 years old and I’m going home and having a few gin and tonics instead. Screw this!” But I didn’t, because Cheryl was there and she is older than I am by a few months and would know I was bs-ing the crowd, and she would kick my ass if I fled. So I coughed a nasty lougy, blew my nose onto the road, let loose a sneeze that popped my eardrums , and said “Well lets go!”

We had not walked ten yards down the road when the winds came whipping down the valley in a great long hard steady gust. I searched for rain. There was only the wind. Not a good omen. The solitary winds of Manoa are never happy without their companion rains. The spirits seemed to be on to ‘Uncle’ Mike’s bizarre plan and were responding with a definite ‘I’m going to kick your ass old man.” I said a soft salutation to the valley, hoping to placate the disdainful spirits.

I was given the lead through the first section of the trial up toward the waterfall in honor of my birthday. That was good because it meant that I could whine and cry to myself without being overheard too much. I was soaked in sweat before we got halfway up the Fall’s trial, and alternatively sucking water and bottle of Hammer Gel before we reached to Aihuilama cutoff. It was slick, and my balance was off and I was sliding and squirreling around as I tried to move up the path. My lights didn’t seem bright enough and my perception was less than three D. My shoes were tight, and I’d tied my gaiters wrong. My crotch was itching already and there seemed to be too much weight in my pack. All the while my nose was running more heavily and I quickly realized I’d left the hand towel I usually use for that behind. I was reduced to striding a dozen paces and then clearing my nostrils. It reminded me of the sound a breaching whale might make. I kept looking back over my shoulder hoping everyone had turned around and that the whole thing was going to turn out to be a joke….Hahaha Mike we just wanted to see how far you would go…..and now that you have come ALL the way up here to THE FALLS in THE DARK we can turn around and GO HOME and light the birthday cake and drink lots of beer…. Boy wasn’t that a fun adventure! --Like normally adventurous people might do.

About that time Gordon pushed by me, explaining that he had to get his loops in quickly because he was going pig hunting in the morning. Then Ernest when on by, his light slowly disappearing in the dark and shadowy tunnel of the winding trail. I realized that this was the same hard core bunch I knew from before tonight’s adventure, and there would be no soft surprises or easy outs on this run. Somewhere in the back of my mind a Mad Man laughed his ass off hysterically. I gritted my teeth and kicked my inner self in the ass as he stumbled over a rock just ahead of me. “This Sucks”, I whined.

We hit the top, I was forced off the trail to empty my bladder while everyone moved by me on through the muddy rills of the bamboo section. The birthday concept lost itself in the reality of the climb and the mud and roots of Pauoa and people began to seek their own pace. I was trying to think sixty miles, and the need to warm up my very reluctant body to the task. It was like dragging a whining child along by the hand. Nothing I could think of would stop the crying and complaining. My nose was running like a faucet by the time we hit the grassy knoll and I plopped onto the bench to rest my whimpering body. Some people were still cheerful. The wind was blowing cool and I immediately begin to chill. I sneezed, blew my nose in my hand wiping it on my shorts.

Somebody asked me how I was doing and I told him the truth. A few others overheard me and they all looked at me kind of funny and moved away uneasily. When I don’t feel good I can be kind of nasty. We pushed on down the hill, my joints crying at the down, my balance just off center, and the volume of my complaints rising in my head. Nobody asked me how I was doing—nobody wanted to get bit. I was quickly at the back of the group, which is not atypical on early downs.

We passed Ed and Larry coming up the hill and we all exchanged greetings. They had started early and were heading back toward paradise. Further down we ran into Eddie Fan, who had started early and was running alone.-- Eddie ran like that all night and into the day. He did four solid loops. Eddie is getting strong.-- We passed Gordon on his way back out of Jackass. We hit the bottom, and did the turn and began the trek back out. I felt a bit better on the up than the down and pushed out of the valley. We hit five minute and I did it in four plus. I sat at the top, weathering the cool breezes and fighting off the need to sneeze as the group caught up with me. When we were all together again we pushed on, the fast downers moving quickly ahead and a few people sticking with me.
When we hit Aihuilama I pushed until my knees began to sing bad songs. Ernest was with me and his were talking to him too. I’m glad I didn’t have to listen to the his conversations. Anyway my body was full of enough conversations and I didn’t need to Ernest’s to add to the noise.

There is never much good to be said about going down into Manoa at night. On a wet kind of night with thick mud and slime everywhere there is even less to recommend it as THE place to be in Honolulu at 10:00 PM on a Friday. But that is where we found ourselves, and like a bunch of the morons who’d paid to cross the river stycks to go hiking, we just stumbled farther and farther into the bowls of the Dark Land. I can not really describe much of the downward fall into the valley as I never try and think more than a step at a time. There is the last switchback, the two streams, the root waterfall, the rocks and the Falls trail. All the rest is just a muddy nightmare. I just move, the trail unwinding before my lights and a noisy group of night marchers following me who noisily wind it back up behind me. My rule is to keep going, and never stop to look back at the trail rolling crew no matter how close they seem to be getting. Just keep moving. Nothing has tapped me on the shoulder yet.

We stumbled down the trail—it was the most common form of movement the entire night—and finally made it to the Falls trail. Then we slipped, slid, and fishtailed down that until we finally hit the gravel that marked the final few hundred yards.

My cold symptoms had continued to escalate and by the time we crossed the crocodile bridge my nose was running full bore. I was sweating through the chill I felt and my knees were weak. But I had a 24 cold pill in my bag at the stop and was putting all my money on that doing the trick and drying me out. We hit the gate at Lyon’s in 3:45 which wasn’t bad for a first lap.

It was a great and pleasant surprise to find Don and Pete waiting for us just beyond the gate. Don had a wonderful collection of goodies in the back of his SUV and Pete was providing a couple of his namesake pizza’s. Don had a cheese cake with candles on it for me. I blew the candles out wishing that I could finish the damn run. They went out and then after a few seconds they relit themselves. I blew them out again and they relit.---another wonderful omen of success…Hahahah….I grabbed a piece of cake and began to eat it. Don looked at the candles that had suddenly turned into flares and were on the verge of turning his car into a gas grill and attempted to pull them out of the quickly melting cake. He finally succeeded, throwing them on the ground and stepping on them. They went out. Then like some demonic joke they relit and he stamped on them again. We laughed cautiously. They lay there on the road. They relit brighter like police flares, and threatened to ignite the asphalt. We didn’t laugh. Don made a reluctant attempt at stomping on them again before they melted the asphalt plunging us all into some kind of Pele’s pool party. Pete poured a bit of his beer on them and they glowed contentedly and then went out quietly. I grabbed a beer and chugged it.

Everybody asked me how I was feeling expecting to hear me sound like Conan. Instead I whined and complained and threatened to quit. People looked at me funny. Don laughed. Pete just shook his head. I believe he had an epiphany a few years ago and got real smart after a birthday and decided that nice conversation and a good meal beats a night on the trails. Smart man—with a well rounded attitude toward life. Anyway I was at a low, but having gone one loop I knew I could do another. That was my goal. Just another loop. Considering anymore than would have caused me to pack up and go home. Just one loop, one thin loop was all I could handle.

It was a great party and over to soon. Time was pressing on us. We all headed over to the stash in stages and rewatered and restocked. I dropped the cold pill and hoped. Back at the cars I had a piece of pizza and a shared a beer with Earnest. Then it was 4:15 and time to move on if we were going to keep any kind of a schedule.

Lap two was good. We moved out and the group quickly split up into its pacing groups but we all pushed hard. The cold pill kicked in as I’d hoped and my nose dried and the sneezes diminished. The first lap had begun to loosen me up and I moved better up the trail. It was a relief to actually feel ready to meet the challenge. We made the bench at the knoll in just under an hour, we were down and back up in less than an two forty-five. We pushed back over the flats and back down into Manoa making it to the aid station in just under 3:15. Fifteen minutes and we were out and pushing again.

Lap three started in the dark with that early morning predawn rain that Manoa so likes drenching us as we climbed out of the valley. We crossed the roots of Pauoa, and pushed down into Nu’uanu. The dew point had been hit and everything was covered in a layer of slime. It made slippery rock a bear, and I went down a few times as we wound down into the valley toward the Enchanted Forest. I came in last at the turn around and decided to get fast start on the group up at the stash. I just yelled to Bozo that I was going on and chased after Fish, Ed, Larry and Eddie. I knew I would be hearing the crowd, but hoped the hill would keep them at bay.

Somewhere in the Enchanted Forest I heard Ernest yell. “I’m coming Mike!” he yelled. Its an old game we play. Conan likes the game. I put my head down and pushed up the trail. It was hard , but it was what I needed and the heat of the intense effort burned the last of the cold and the wimpy attitude out of me. I began cycles of hard breathing that let me power the ups without respite. Five minute hill fell once again in closer to four than five. I looked back down the hill and knew that I still had Ernest beat. But I knew he’d catch me on the flat ground. I was still looking at sixty, and we were just approaching thirty miles. I moved easy over the ground instead of racing Ernest. Around the bend, up at the true summit I saw a light, and wondered who could be coming back down the trail. As I approached I found Larry with his bag on the ground and his phone in his hand.

“You OK?” I asked

“Oh yeah, he said. Just got a call from some friends.

You get calls from friends at 5:00 in the morning every day? I kidded.

Oh they are just driving around and called me to see what I was doing.

Well you are all right? I asked again, wondering if Larry was hitting on all cylinders. His friends certainly were not.

“Oh, fine, I’ll be along,” assured Larry.

So I headed out and sure enough Larry went by me before I hit the first line of Norfolk pines, then Ernest came up on me.

“Mike you made me work too hard. I couldn’t catch you on the hill,” complained Earnest.

“I can’t race Earnest, wanted to kick your ass but can not, it’s a long way to sixty.”

“My knees are talking to me again. It’s bad. I was hoping it would go away but they keep talking to me,” worried Ernest.

“Mine are not happy either. Slowed down to keep ‘em quiet.”

We fast walked and jogged our way over the roots and mud of Pauoa Flats the growing light making the task no less easy, into the Bamboo, past the Pie Stand, and down the first easy slopes of Aihuilama. We had made a few of the switchbacks when we heard the crowd come over the hill. I knew it wouldn’t be long before they were up on us.

When Cheryl passed me I fought to keep up, slowly letting the rest of the pack slip by. On the way down I passed Steff and Joel, and Mike and Tricia. It was like old home day for Lean Horse Runners. It was light and the trial should have been faster, but my knees were taking the strain badly. I pushed but it was not good. I slowed and finally I was alone again on the trial, Ernest having been pulled along with the pack. It was slow but steady going. I looked at my watch as I came over the concrete bridge and found we had done about a 3:20.





As I came around the bend to the gate, the morning air surprised me with the smell of cooking bacon and ham. Barbie and Bob McAlester were at work under an awning where a couple of table held a cooking stove and plenty of breakfast goodies. It was a wonderful surprise. Smiles, pictures, and more birthday best wishes. What can one say but thank you. I stood there and gobbled down a breakfast burrito and drank a few cups of coffee. It was just what I needed. So nice to have friends like that.

We filled up and headed out on the forth lap. Earnest had called it a day his knees finally starting to scream. And Larry and Ed, having done four were finished as well. Somewhere up there on the backside in Nu’uanu Larry had taken a header off the trail. His chest was a bit sore and it was time for him to stop. Ed, well Ed could probably have run the course for the next few days if he wanted to—there is no telling what Ed can do.

The gang was getting smaller and some other runners we had seen in the night had already headed home. Others were just getting out to do a few over and backs. Steve whizzed by with this friend. We ran into Doctor Bill out there on Aihuilama as well.

The forth over and back was a grind. It wasn’t fast, yet we managed to keep pace. I did a lot of it alone, knowing that at the down I’d be running into the gang once again. Fish and Bozo hung with me a lot on the way over. There was rain but the light made it easier to get down the trails. The muddy rills were well worked over and it was hard getting through them. I tried not to think much about how much more there was to do, and just kept reminding myself that I would only have to travel the ground in this direction two more times before I was finished. And that meant that the next loop would be the next to last loop and then, well the last loop didn’t matter because it was the last time anyway. This arcane reasoning made me feel good so I let myself believe it. It kept me moving.

Fish and Bozo stayed close to me while Cheryl, Rob and Keith were always just ahead or behind. Steve ran by again with a friend. Bill was out there doing a lap.

We finished the forth loop in about 3:40 or so and had an over all time of about 15:45.

We started the fifth loop at just after 16:00 hours on the total clock which was within my range. But at the aid stop I chugged down an AMP and it hit my gut like a firework. I felt it tighten up as if just tied in a knot, and hoped it would pass.

The crowd was thinning but the core crew was still with me. Cheryl, Rob, Bozo, and Fish. But Cheryl was waiting to run into Steve who had his son, ??Jason out for a section, and Rob was going for fifty. Everything happened at Baens Bench. Cheryl headed back with Steve. Rob had got to point where he could claim fifty and turned around. Bozo looked at her watch and made some calculations and decided she had family to take care of. That left Fish, myself, and David Carlsson, who had caught up with us on our way out of Manoa.

Fish muttered something about his knees going and he moved off down Five Minutes at his own faster pace. I began to feel worse as David and I headed down into Nu’uanu. The amp may have woken me up but it, along with whatever else was starting to give me constant pain. My guts began to churn, and finally I had to make a stop below the Enchanted forest. We made the turn around and I headed out while David got water. ‘I’ll yell if you pass me I said, knowing I was looking for a place to stop already. I made that stop, hoping that it would end the cramping. It did a bit, and we moved off up the trail at a better pace, but I still felt bad. But not so bad I couldn’t let David lead and pull me up the hill. We moved well when I was moving but I was taking up a lot of time off trail. We reached the bottom of five minutes and I had to stop again. I felt better and we pushed on over and down into Manoa. Somewhere along the Manoa Falls trail I was hit with cramping again and forced off the trail once more. It was becoming a nasty routine.

When we got to the stash at the bottom I had to admit that I had a problem that was not going away. David and I decided to go back out and make a decision on how far to go once we got to Baens bench which would guarantee my 58 if nothing else. My balance was going but in the day light it was not a serious issue, I was beginning to hallucinate a bit but they were mild and I could ignore them easily—just faces in the trees, houses along the ridgelines, and billboards advertising free sex with overweight models. Anyway, when I looked I my watch I knew it would be at least an hour before we got the house where the models were giving it away. So we had time.

The climb out of Manoa was difficult but done at a pace that got us to the top in under an hour. We rounded the crest of Nu’uanu to see the sun setting over Honolulu. It was to good to miss and we sat down right there and talked and watched as the sun edged lower on the horizon. It was peaceful and pleasant after the long hard laps we had done. Brian came up the trail out of Nu’uanu and joined us for a few minutes. I sat there watching the sun set, and could see the steam rising off my body in the last of the day’s light. I mentioned it to David, and he made the simple statement that he hadn’t even broken into a sweat yet. I looked around for something to hit him over the head with, but the branch was too far away and I didn’t feel like getting up.

The sun set and the darkness ebbed up on us. Brian headed back down toward Manoa, while David and I took advantage of the last moments of light to make the bench. I sat there a moment and realized that a down and out of Nu’uanu was not in the cards. My gut was still on edge and was threatening to unleash if I pushed too hard. David looked at me and agreed. I had reached the turn around point.

We made good time back over the top, but the darkness was full upon us as we made our way down Aihuilama and the rocks were slippery and wet. My balance and coordination were shot and I found myself on my ass, or bracing myself against the side of the trail on a regular basis. David was out in front, and the guys behind me were noisily rolling up the path almost quicker than I could move down the trail. We pushed on. I went part way over the edge in one of the muddy rutted bamboo areas. David was able to pull me to my feet at the cost of only a few scratches and a lot of additional mud spread over me.

We came through the gate at 24:35 on my clock having done sixty plus miles. It was a relief to be done. We marched down to the cars, and drove back and packed up the drop.

Overall the toll on my body was greater than I had expected. The demands of this particular set of trail repeats was as advertised. They may not individually be the ‘Worst of HURT’, but taken together, and done at least five times, it approaches the rigor of HURT in less time. My own physical problems near the end amplified the effects of the difficult trails. I really would have liked to have experienced a full final sixth lap. Those models at that house at the top of the hill had said they were waiting for us, but I’d done what I set out to do, and given the dangers of the trails, models or no models, it was time to call it a night.

I’d like to say I actually did call it a night. But the urge to just sit down and have a drink had been with me all day. So after a long shower and hard scrubbing I poured myself a heavy tonic, lime and gin and sat down to contemplate the days events. Well, I have to tell you that drink tasted so good I had to have another. And they say things always happen in threes. Having the third one I found myself sitting in front of my computer, writing a few running buddies about a wonder run up to the top of Mauna Loa and back down. 100 something miles, a lot of it brutal over 10,000 foot altitude trails where it is bound to be chillingly cold, and if it snows almost impossible to traverse, I think I called it the ‘Sea to Summit, Sea’ I got some bites, almost enough to force me to commit myself to the insane idea. I sat there jiggling the ice in my third drink, listening to the cheery sound of the clinking of the rounded cubes against the glass. I finished the drink, got up from the desk, belched loud, ripped a long hard fart, and stumbled awkwardly toward the bed. I lay there giggling hysterically. Hahaha, I laughed as I rolled over in bed. “That poor bastard is going to suffer bad!” I chuckled as I fell asleep, a mad grin still plastered on my face.