Caution: This could turn into an overly long post with some dramatization and exageration possible only from the middle of the pack and back. But first we have to discuss rain. Hilo is not the rainiest spot on the planet, that is on Kaui. Hilo is the rainiest city on the planet. We average 130 inches of rain a year. We have had over 25 inches this month. . If you haven't experienced tropical rain some examples will help. Did you see the movie with Gene Kelly? It does that here, no special effects, for days. the jungle scene in Forrest Gump? Could film it here. Okay that thunder shower in the summer that raises that musky smell of dirt and quickly turns parched soil to mud, Imagine it for three weeks. At the same time the rain is what will always make this race special and the people that volunteered special.

It started raining hard at 2:00 a.m. It would rain over 6 inches during the day. We tried not to talk about how hard it was raining but it was pounding down so hard we had to laugh as we knew what kind of a day it would be. It is a small town marathon. The total listed was over 500 but that included the 5k, the 10 miler and the 26.2s. My finisher card shows that I was 129 out of 206? and somewhere else it shows 175 thoners? I don't think there could of been more than 12-20 people behind me but they were tough people for sure. We were bussed about 10 miles out of town to start with the ten milers so there are about 300 people crowded into the community center trying to avoid the eventual soaking we all know is coming.

We have chosen this path and have all come down that long training trail to meet up with this day. It is now raining sideways so we have to close the doors and it is pouring. I notice that this small mary is just a thin thin slice of the bigger races we have been in, cut just a wafer off of the 25,000 in Honolulu or the 12,000 in Vegas and they are all in the room. Younsters eager for the ten miler to start, the high school track stars, runners from the local college, the local club, the late thirty crowd still looking strong, the forty somethings, grey beards and the "wow how old is that guy", (that beats you by a few miles). The experienced, the first timers, the whole gang, heavy, light, all with one thing in common: TRASH BAGS! Black, white, clear, (I'm showing my stuff says he or she), made into capes, clothes, hat covers, gators, it is a big day for Hefty and Glad. We of course have the guy with the megaphone making announcements we can't understand. They were repeated in Japanese so our visitors would not understand either. Of course we had the characters, a near famous fixture here is "Cowman", with a huge set of horns and leather skirt kind of thing he runs and has for years. "Nippleman" with circles cut out to eliminate chafing he has been named for and "Banana Lady", this skimpy outfit glowed in the dark and aero was so important that fruit, snacks and gels were taped to her body. Due to extreme run-off and fog the race is delayed for 15 minutes to allow the sky to get lighter.

It was time to move out, didn't take long to soak the shoes and the socks. Stepped off the curb into three inches of water and head up the road in the morning darkness with 300 other brave souls. We gather at the street so megaphone man can make more important announcements we can't hear. In the back no matter what they use, we can't hear it over the breathing, praying and nervous chatter and today over the rain and wind beating down on all the plastic bags. With a shrug instead of a starting gun we head out and of course as you would expect we are all LAUGHING. The adrenalin flows with the water and we are just smoking with a mile of 11:18!! Mile two still downhill, the fighting roosters are crowing, the dogs barking as the sound of water on plastic fills the air. We can at least see the potholes and which side of the road the stream is flowing on and continue to blister the course with a 11:33.

Mile 3 slows to 12:37 as we had to ford our first stream, the rain is in sheets.

Mile 4 we take our first gel so the time drops to 14:19. Had no idea that gels took so long.

The hills, continue through the "gulches" that are along the coast, they are steep jagged canyons each with a steep entry and steeper exit. Each with a waterfall in the back, roaring with brown water, each with a stream running across it carrying wood, rocks, and sticks to pick your way through. On another day it would of been beautiful. Today it was an amazing display the power that mother nature wields.

Mile five takes across the main highway where the running lane has become a river we are washed off with walls of water thrown by passing cars as we hug the side. We turn up hill at mile six. It is a little hilly?

The volunteers are great and we even have a few ohana out on their door-step or with giant umbrellas wishing us well at Papaikou and Puucopalau old plantation towns from when sugar cane ruled the Big Island. On the mainland they put lifts for skiing on slopes like these. I think i saw someone actually repel down while we walked up. The water coming down ran over the tops of our feet like waterskis. Still managed a solid 12:37 through what is becoming an eco-challenge. Is it still raining? Oh yes pouring but with so much action on the ground you just tune it out.

The next gulch is Honolii, today the surf is mud brown, and wind chopped. No board time for these men and women of the ocean. They sit and stare at the sea as the smell of pakalolo drifts from the windows of rusted out cars.

At mile 9 the hills are pau, (done) and right after the "singing" metal bridge the flat lands begin. The streams turn to lakes and ponds, the hazards are the depths. I may of been hallucinating but I think we passed someone. We head out and cross over wainuenue avenue, (freshwater rainbows) which is the entry to our regular training grounds. Nice to be on familiar ground for a while. We finished ten miles in 2 hours and 2 minutes. Really shocked with the terrain and the rain and just giddy about it. So excited I take off the trash bag, take an ibuprofen, mineral replacement and tums and we head out. There are fewer people around than on our normal training days due to the storm. Sheets of rain coming down over 200 hundred foot Banyons planted by famous people in the early 1900's. One of them was planted by Babe Ruth. Time to put on the headphones and work on those tough middle miles. We are steady at about 12:30 with 13's for traffic stops. The next big challenge turns out to be the road through the military base, the potholes are worst on the sides so be careful. There are three to four inches of water covering it so you pick your way through as if they are land mines. The runner ahead is not so lucky and an ankle takes a nasty turn. . We gel up and work through the back of the rubbish station where Mrs. H gets splashed from head to toe in muddy water from a passerby. She could care less. You know that point where you know? You know you have come too far to turn back? Mrs. H was there, focused, wet, dirty, but a smile and a stride that said, keep going old guy we can do this. The next car cleaned her right up.

Mile 15 volunteers handing tough, big smiles, aloha's, shaka's and huge umbrellas!! Why does it take so long to gel?

Mile 16 had to get off the road and up on the sidewalk to ford a stream that was rushing too fast to risk crossing.

Mile 17 is straight, long, deserted and only a sprinkle. We think of Forrest Gump, "for no particular reason I started to run." Old film quotes get us back to the main road and mile 18. We did see a guy with an ark and a bunch of animals. The rain returns in spades, in wind driven sheets pounding on everything in its path. Yelling encouragement back and forth across the street is helping all of us in the 5:00+ club. Cowman is yelling to all, yelling, "Go you marathoners!".

The 12's are slowly turning to 13's. We have no idea what is going on inside of the soggy shoes but figure it is not good. I think often of stories we have shared on the LVM site and share them with my partner as a way to pass the time. Mile 21. I tell the story of the OCB as I know it is ringing at the LAM and it provides comfort as I wonder out loud about lefty, surfcity, elephant with the OCB, etc.

The miles slip by, the water is but an afterthought. At mile 25 the world is silent but the rain and the wind in the trees and we are alone on the course, the crowd at the finish is thin? but the MC is still there and he announces our names as we cross the line hand in hand. All smiles with that feeling inside you all know so well. It isn't the clock or the position it is running the race you trained for. Still pouring rain and tons of homemade food being served by the tutu's and papa's to the crazy people in shorts and tanktops. It was a day to really thank the organizers, the volunteers, the traffic police for standing and sitting and hiding from 6 inches of rain for over 5 hours so we could experience that feeling from deep inside that makes us all distance people, run, walk, wheelchairs, all or some of the above it is your day, your miles and emotion that makes you look forward to sharing your race with those people that know what you are feeling when they put the metal around your neck and begin planning for the next race day. Gee maybe we could do 5:30? or 5:15? even though you can barely get out of your chair. I know we couldn't of done it today without the continued sharing and support from the LVM21. Mahalo. LVM '06 C U There,

HRC

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