First New Year Run over Well Worn Trails

I was going nuts at home listening to a hard rock station and doing core training when I finally decided to call Fish and find out what he was doing. He called me back about an hour later and it turned out he was ready for a run too. We agreed a tener was all we could handle and set a 4:30 PM meet time below the water tank. Fish was waiting for me when I showed up before 4:30.

We hadn't even entered the park area near the trail head and it was obvious it was wet up there. The ground was a muddy plain where usually it was hard packed. I had opted to wear a hip bottle pack, which seemed a good idea considering we were only doing a ten miler. But it was already giving me problems. Bottle packs take me a while to get used to and I am always rash to just throw one on and go running. This was proving to be the case and I could feel my glutes tightening even as we headed across the bridge an onto the trail.

The heavy rains had seeped onto the grounds and were now finding their way out at lower elevations. There were small seeps, mud holes, and small flowing wisps of water all along the trail. It was a mess. Broadway, which is usually dry, was almost like Pauoa Flats, and it wasn't until we reached the end and made the turn at three balls, the beginning of the upward trail, that it finally dried out a bit. It was muddy all the way up the hogback, even in places that are usually dry. But we made good time regardless and hit the top in 17.

I was over the edge, past the bench and down onto the staircases quickly and trying to play that game between running and stressing my tendons to early into the run. Staircases always does that the first time through. We crossed the bridge at the bottom and headed up Twisters, the mud making the going a bit slippery. There was a group coming down and we weaved our way between them reciting the 'thank you ' mantra. We hit the top, dropped into Gingers and passed a another couple who were walking the course. I began to run a bit up into Easy's and was feeling good, but I could tell the bottle pack had been a bad idea. Coming down Rooty Run my ass started to tighten, and then my back spasmed. By the bottom I was telling Fish that I needed to cruise a bit to see if I could work out the spasm.

I was hurting as we started up Mango's and I was looking for a place to lie down and adjust my back. We made the first turn and I found a place where the ground cover was thicker than the mud and lay down and tried to pop myself into a straighter stance. It worked a bit. We moved on, and I adjusted the bottle pack a bit to take the weight off my right hip. It was muddy in the upper reaches as well. The old pig ruts were thick with mud; it's been years since I saw them like this. Farther on the flushes, seeps, and rills were working and the ground along the trail was at best soft, with deep mud in many places. We just ran through the slop.

The late afternoon was working into early evening and the birds were active along the trail; many of them reluctant to give us right of way as they foraged along the watery flows. The sun was far in the west, lighting up the lower landscape but casting the western slopes of Makiki valley in shadows. We pushed up the hillside, making time where we could, and hit Tantalus at just over fifty minutes. A good showing.

Kalawahine was aglow in the late day sun. The trails were wet, and many places showed the effects of the heavy rains of the early week. We pushed on at a fast jog, fast walk, and occasional run. I was feeling a bit better, adjusting the bottle pack now and then to alleviate the pain in my back.

Half-way down the trail we spotted a dog. The beast was heading out on the same trail we were running in on. Unfortunately we spooked it, and it took off ahead of us retracing its footsteps. Fish rued its fate. Dogs that get lost up along the trails have short lives. Hunting dogs are never well fed, and a few days off their feed and they are weak. A dog that goes a few days on the trails will likely weaken and end up being eaten by the pigs. A cruel reversal of how things are supposed to go. We ran the trail looking for signs of the dog, but it was spooked and just took off down the trail. We made the turn at the bottom of Manoa Cliff's hoping that it would try to retrace its steps and get out at the Kalawahine trail head.

It was wet and muddy on the up. The heavy rains had been doing some work on the trails, even over the week since I had last seen them. It was hard going but I pushed where I could, and just ignored the mud and trudged on. We made the Map room at 1:17. The sky still bright but the sun had set. We were in a race now, trying to get as far as we could along Manoa Cliffs before the light faded. We made the top of the trail and headed down Manoa Cliffs, the valley shadowed below us, the outline of Diamond head highlighted by the still bright southern sky. Lights were coming on below us. We ran on.

I used my light in the heavy groves and darker valleys. The mud was heavy, the trail was littered with greenery, the winds were suddenly whipping up and blowing hard down the valley. Most of the dead wood had already been blown out of the trees, so nothing was coming down on us. We ran quickly along the trail, making the bench, and then the stairs in good time. I didn't look at my watch, and just pushed on up the stairs and switchbacks, and into the muddy section near top. The final high steps came easy, the mud tracks were slop, we crossed the foot bridge and headed down through the thick mud at the top.

We were moving fast at the road and came out right into the path of a car that was speeding down the road. We must have made some scene because the driver slowed and watched us disappear off onto the Moleka Trail. I had both lights out now, and was pushing through the wet areas, going on memory. Whenever I could I ran. We hit the switchbacks and I pushed up, making it to the top and ten yards down the upper trail before my system was screaming for more O2. It took a minute before I was running again, fast, then slower as the roots got heavy, then cautious as we approached the steps. Down the steps and faster down the long slope toward the Bench at the top of Hogsback. I still had not looked at my watch.

Fish and I took the crossover at good speed. I ran Easies, and danced down Rooty Run, chugging the last of my water as we rounded Big Bend. Then we pushed down Center Trail. Hard to run now, and I was watching my knees. No need to be reckless. We counted our way down the slope; Bad Stairs, Concrete Pipes, Dams, into Hau Trees, around past the giant rubber tree that has slipped down the slope, down the steps, along the Lava Dyke, into Bamboos, the Gulch, Samoan Road, Green Hales, Yellow Brick Road, up the small rise and around and down toward Water Pipes, Fish and I running almost side by side as we hit Rocky Bottoms, then snaking through the final section where the Green Curtain used to be, out onto the last of the path before the Bridge. Over, up, around at a run, the next bridge, Right at the giant Norfolk Pines at the beginning of Broadway and the Korean sign. Down into Taro Patches, along the stream, past what is left of the old tree, and out. 2:12. In the mud, half in the dark. Not bad.