Trek Loop Countdown

I had been anticipating the Saturday run since Wednesday, but prepared just a bit too much so when 6:00 AM rolled around I found myself standing at the trailhead with a bunch of fast guys...Clem, Johnny, Paul, Frank, and a few others wondering what I was going to do to keep up. Good realization particularly since my body just was not ready for the run. Just not my day is what it was. So as I feel increasingly farther behind the group on the fast march up Center trail I was forced to accept that this was going to be a gruelling workout. Not fast just hard. But I knew I had to push through it, I need every bit of time and distance on the trails I can get, so I just pushed on knowing I would probably never see the guys again. The times were slow, I had that mushy kind of feeling in my legs, my lungs were not happy....the list went on if I had bothered to keep it.

But it was a beautiful day. A stunning morning at the edge of the world. High up in the hills the views were astonishing, brilliant, and golden. Coming out of the trees onto an overlook I was repeatedly bowled over by the enchantment of the island. Manoa, the peaks through the Pali into Koolaupoko...Kaneoe, and Kailua, and then the best the valleys of the Kalawahine, the views reaching across the Ewa plain all the way to the Waianae range and the distant sea beyond. Quick looks across the green land then dropping back into the lushness of the high rain forest.

Coming down Nahuina and Mangos I thought it best to head down center trail as my knees were bothering me a bit, and I hoped to intercept any second loopers coming up. As luck would have it I ran into Frank and Fish somewhere near Green Hales and started back up. It was hard going and they marched away from me. But Fish was not letting me get too far behind and we made it to the top of center and then did the cross over. I trailed Frank slowly getting my joints to loosen. The ibu I had taken before the run finally coming to play. By the time we hit the bottom of Staircases I was feeling better and managed to bump up the stairs hitting the well spaced risers and moving ahead of both Frank and Fish. We hit the top at the bench and I kept pushing, hearing Fish's bell ringing behind me. Frank was not there and when we rounded the turn at the bottom of Moleka I realized he had bailed and headed down. But Fish was still there and we moved fast along Moleka, running and fast pacing our way toward the road. I hit my stride as we crossed Tantalus and pushed up the first section of Manoa Cliffs, feeling the weakness in my gut....got to do more core work....and then across and down the high ground onto the Manoa Cliff trail.

I hadn't run like this in a while. Good to have Fish back there letting me know when I was flagging and giving me incentive to bury him whenever I could . The technical ground is mine, but Fish has the stamina and always catches me on the long runs over better ground. We hadn't run like this since last year. It felt good. I pushed feeling my legs taking the strain and my chest heaving and painful. Fish's "Come on Mikey" the bell tone of flagging effort.

To the top at the back of Manoa Cliffs, down the winding track toward the Map Case, then the technical ground of the Switchbacks, the trail falling away in short rugged ground where I could stride over a lot of the bad ground gaining distance on Fish. We hit the bottom of Manoa Cliffs and raced along the windy rough ground of the back of Kalawahine, in and out of the rills, cuts, and valleys that dig into the pumice slope of Pu'uohia, and finally hit the ups that lead back to the road. "Good Job." I hear behind me as we make Tantalus. Then its down Nahuina, a new large Kukui down at the old Univerals just below Banana Patch, and race to the bottom of Nahuina, moving fast down Mangos to the last long dirt slope that leads back to Center Trail.

The last time across the Cross-over is always a relief, a chance to push hard knowing there needs to be nothing left in the tank for another run up Center. We moved well up Rooty Run, and made the top, and I commented to Fish I must be dragging my feet because I'd whacked my toes a half dozen times. Running down Easies the inevitable struck and I whacked my right once again this time going down hard, rolling over the rooty ground, and coming to rest at the edge of the trail, half on, half-off looking down the sharp slope. I shook myself as I stumbled back up, thankful to be whole, my knee bleeding a bit, but OK. We just pushed on. Down to the bottom, up Ginger shorts, back down Twisters, and then onto the hard long up of staircases. 'Last time." I hear Fish say, last time to give it what we had. So we pushed to the top, up and over and done except for the long down of Hogback, the steep path that neither of us intended to run in a non-race situation. It was good. The wind blowing cool in our faces as we hit roots and rocks, the shade of the long avenue of Broadway, and the relief of the final passage along past Taro Patches. Across the bridge and satisfied knowing we had run hard and finished the loops.

Next week the race. Next week the reality of time, the need to pull something out of nothing when the clock ticks off toward six.

Four Ups at the Lighthouse

Rabbit Island, Bird Island, Makapu'u, Ed Furuike:

Don and I did the Makapu'u light this morning. Its always a pleasure to meet there and do the hill as we catch up on what's happening in each other's lives. Its hard to get into the Wednesday morning run cycle but when it works it is good. Right now Don is getting back into shape after his Chemo rounds. Last year I was running a lot of the hill and walking down with him. Right now I'm just walking the ups with him. Plenty of time to do the hard runs other times in the weeks.

It was a beautiful day with plenty of sun, blue ocean, and nice trades. We had at least seven babies in wheelies and back packs. Plenty kids too. It was a bit unusual to see so many young mothers and families pushing up the hill.

View from the top: Makapu'u Beach below.

Half way down

We did four repeats and then sat at the car and had a drink from the stash I brought along.

Near the top of Hogsback

In the evening I ran a '12hour' loop from the Nature Center. Nothing fast, just a bit of a push up the Hogback.

Monday Blues

Well not quite the blues but there was something missing from my abilities as I headed up the Center Trail in the early evening Monday. I was all set to do a sub 30 to the top of Hogsback, but I was tight, slow, out-of-focus, and just sore. Despite pushing as best I could I could only make the Bend at the top of Center Trail in about 25, and the top of Hogsback came in at 30 something. I was hitting 55 at the top of Moleka and it was already getting dark. So I turned around and made my way through the twilight back toward the Bench. Something very nice about moving down the trails in the almost-dark. The trail seems to shimmer and the 'lines' glow just enough to follow. By the time I hit the bottom of Hogsback it was almost completely dark, with just an Orange glow high in the sky, and the 10 watt glow of a crescent moon. Sometimes it pays to just take it easy.

Trek Loops: Another one loop race.

Blasted out of the blocks and hit the top of Center Trial at run. A few fast people managed to barge by me but I pushed through Moleka, Manoa Cliffs, and hit the map case at 1:05. Feeling good I sprinted down the back side and dropped onto Kalawahine and ran on toward Tantalus. Managed to creep up on another runner and passed him on the Road. Then down fast along Nahuina. That damn Harald was behind me all of a sudden and I had to push by Doctor Bill at banana Patches, and sprint down toward Kneeknockers. He was behind me again, and I pushed loosing him by the time I hit Mangos. Then pushed around the bend again at the top of center thinging he was gone. But, NO, that Harald kept pushing and there he was as I topped out of Ginger Shorts. Lost him then he was back there again nodding to me and smiling, that bastid, as I hit the bench. Ran like the wind down Hogsback, throwing my knees on the alter of speed. Had his ass, until I hit a hole herd of walkers, and then as I rounded the turn at the beginning of Broadway I see him close enough to exchange insults. Had to push hard to finish a few steps ahead of him. (1:55) Harald started out the second already a hundred yards ahead of me and I never saw more than a glimpse of him at the top of water pipes. The rest was a hard push with the occasional fast guy coming by. I was alone out there. Hard loop and finished in 2:25.

The Maunawili Out and Back--The Race

This needs to be caveatted with the disclaimer that I am writing this late, and I don't remember my last girl friend's name (which is good), let alone all the people I ran with (which is bad.) As always bear with me.

So this is a handi-capped race. Meaning we use some stats John has for a dumb little California Race that is half as long and certainly half as tough. It means you get enough of a lead that if you are really top-on you may be able to get to eleven miles before the tidal wave of younger and faster runners overtakes you.

Last year I was in the lead group with Ed. This year lots of very fit and attractive ladies showed up with some old geezers like Tom and Dr. Bill. And of course Ed was there. And Ed and I took some extra time to practice POSE which is always good for me. ( I took Ed's tri course in May and it helped me a lot. I swim better and bike like a damn champ, and when I run I am always thinking about it. But like any technique it is hard to override the survival methodologies that one adopts. Ed works at it, and his high placing just goes to show what POSE will do for you...not to mention 30 years of special forces training.

So Ed and I watched a lot of people move out ahead of us. And when John gave us the go. Ed just disappeared. I chased a nice looking lady for a few miles, until we hit one of the first switchback downs, and she took a fall and slowed, and then I was on my own. Every once in while another very sweet and pleasant young lady would come by. "Thank you so much for letting me by"...(you deaf, dumb, old codger) they would say to me as they slipped by. I'd chase them for a a while, until they realized I was still back there, and then they'd disappear and I loose sight of the geographical features I'd so recently come to appreciate.

There were lots of fast new people out on the trails. Guys and Girls, running by me no matter how hard I tried to drop trees, kick large rocks in the way, or break out those fall points. But I kept pushing, and fighting to stay up ahead. At one point there were four of us working our way up toward that steep saddle that cuts a high ridge. Dr. Bill, A fellow in a blue shirt that I had been chasing for five miles, and up in front was Cheryl. Then behind me I heard this whooosing and before I could bump my hip out far enough to knock him off the cliff that guy Stevens went slipping by me. I think Matt was already leading but after I told him how good he was doing, which was true, I tried to spoil it by telling him the real leader was no more than a half mile ahead. I think it did the work. Matt's got a kid now, and he's suddenly older, I was hoping the thought of chasing some sob would give him pause, as it does with most regular old guys. But Matt just thanked me and ran up that damn nasty, muddy, windy, narrow track. I looked at my watch and Bill and I were both doing great. It didn't matter who passed us, our times were incredible by any standard.

I'd seen a few other guys come by; Huddy, Nick, and Harold for certain. It always hurts when Harold goes by because despite his age he is so pleasant. I like to beat Harold and can on occasion. It makes up for all the jokingly good chatter he seems to be imbued with. Nothing like kicking the ass of some eternal bright light, dousing the flame of positive thinking. Nick isn't much better, and to make matters worse he never seems to have his pants on. Damn guy drinks too much beer, and is still just too damn fast. I always like to try and think of something to ask Nick about new stars, and far planets, or the cosmological significance of inner galactic novae on the existence of life, but by the time it comes to my lips Nick is long on his way. And this time he was carting those damn ski poles along. I've run with clowns with ski Poles before and don't like 'em. But before I could even say "Położone kije wasz tył" he was gone. Before Nick went by me I had heard a thumping and drumming, and I swear it sounded like rain, but it was just Huddy, and that ever present dark cloud he has been dragging along with him. He came up on me and the wind began to blow and the rain was beating down and with each step he took the ground grew softer and more muddy. It was Huddy made the trails muddy, believe me. But he was feeling good, not having run 30 miles before the beginning of the out and back--as he usually does, and so he went by me, which was good since it was already wet and muddy and I didn't need him hanging just ahead of me.

There is that place before the last long down where one winds around these ugly little valleys, and there never seems to be any end to it. Back in there I was plagued by a swarm of new people. Guys and girls flying by and chasing each other. It was like locusts. I got to tell you I was getting tired of getting off to the side of the trail. But then they were gone and it was me and the fellow in the blue shirt moving ahead of me on each drop into and climb out a ravine.

I passed him somewhere when he was adjusting his shoes. I looked down at my ugly gaiters and smiled. I pushed on. We hit the long down and I heard him behind me. My knees pleaded with me, and I relented, and let him go by. But I chased him into the waimanalo turn-around.

I filled to 45 OZ. perhaps a bit much. and I was off. No food, no talk, just a few words of thanks and it was out before Harald. I bent over, huffed and puffed, hoping to drive Harold to the rear, but he hung on to me as we made the climb out of the road. After drafting me for a while he pushed on. I saw him later way up on that far ridge as one hits the long climb. He was skipping along, waving his hat, and singing nursery songs, just to get on my nerves. My only hope was that he'd fall off the side and I could run by promising to call for help......after I finished.


So I ran on and then what do you know....I hear that damn bell. Fish! And not just Fish but a whole train of guys moving along the trails turning them into on be swampy mess. I pushed on, fearing the undertow. I caught up with a fellow ahead of me, and he didn't understand the problem. I didn't want by I just wanted him to stay ahead of these guys for a while. But it was hopeless for me, and at a ridge line I pulled off to the side and waited as about four dozen guy moved by. "This ain't a damn train station", I finally screamed! "Move on by, Fast !" Then they were gone.

I could hear the group out ahead of me through a valley or two and then they were gone. I was alone on a good portion of the climb to the Towers. Then I passed a few people, and then more passed me. But mostly it was a time where I watched my own body, gauged when I could push and when I needed to conserve a bit. I kept telling myself that this WAS the race and this was the time I needed to give it my all. There would be no next time until till next year and another cycle of races. I pushed hard over ground I had learned well, and was very happy to hit the water tank, where I ducked under to cool my body and then sped off.

A few people passed me on the final up to the Pali, but I was played out and could not give them a good chase. I caught one of the guys who had been on the Fish train, and then near the top passed one more fellow. I finished just under five hours,which was my goal. 22nd place out of 70 something.