We had an unbelievably crazy weekend.  We headed out to the Big Island on Thursday (March 10th) and spent the day poolside, drinking beer, enjoying the sunshine and loving life.  Around 9 that night, as we were sitting at the poolside bar, a buzz began about an earthquake in Japan.  We all sat shocked and silent watching horrible footage of tsunami waves carrying away homes, buildings, cars, people.

A few minutes later there was a buzz about the tsunami warnings heading our way.  We dealt with this last year after an earthquake in Chile, but luckily nothing really came of it.  But it was surreal to see the look on the faces of the people sitting at the bar.  Just a few moments later, the general manager stood up and made an announcement that everyone needed to pack up and either head on a bus or drive to the nearest evacuation shelter, a high school.  We were being evacuated from the hotel.

Fortunately, my husband has family that lives on the Big Island who also happens to be a police officer.  So he called us up right away and told us that we needed to head to their house and bunker down for the night.  We were lucky that we had family to count on, all of the other tourists had to sleep in their cars or huddle together in a school gym.

The tsunami wasn’t set to hit until 3 am and despite our efforts, we couldn’t stay awake.  Sleeping in ignorant blissfulness high up on a hill, we didn’t realize the damage that the tsunami was then causing to the little town of Kona, our hotel, and many businesses that we were just hours before perusing.

But we looked at the whole situation with perspective.  Nothing anyone experienced on the Big Island would ever compare to the tragedies occurring in Japan.  When our hotel let all the guests back in despite the severe damage to the entire first floor, we were grateful.  (Although some rude ass, disrespectful, crotchety tourists had the nerve to complain about the situation and tell the hotel that “you are ruining my vacation!”  Seriously.  I couldn’t believe it either)  So although we had to go without sleep or running water and step through puddles to get places, we were grateful the entire time knowing that we definitely were lucky in life.

We were supposed to run a 10K on Saturday morning, but with all of the events happening, the lack of sleep, and uncertain conditions, the husband and I decided to skip the run.  I felt guilty about it for about .2 seconds, but was grateful that I even have the chance to make such mundane decisions in my life.

(Although we did still make it to the Brew Fest.  Our hotel was supposed to be the location of the beer fest but due to its condition it was relocated, but it still happened and it was still awesome! Plus it was our anniversary, so it made the day even more awesome)

Life is short and unpredictable.  I am grateful for every moment.


Polulu Valley

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10K recap.

My 10K this weekend was awesome.  I ran it with two friends, one of which had never run more than 4 miles, so I was so proud of her and super excited to see her cross the finish line.

My chip time was 57:41, which is a really, really good pace for me, especially considering that I’ve been getting really complacent with my runs and cruising around at closer to a 10 minute mile during my weekly runs.  I really felt like I worked my ass off during the run to maintain a good pace and keep myself going, especially during the climb up Diamond Head.

The race was really well put together, the free stuff at the end was better than the Honolulu Marathon, to include free bags from Lululemon, cookies, fruit, juice, yogurt, massages, and a rose as soon as you cross the finish line.

It was really nice to run in an all-female race, and although it was a small group of runners, it was really well put together.  I will definitely consider doing it again next year.

My wonderful hubby even got up at the ass crack of dawn to drive me to Honolulu and take a picture of me as I crossed.

my friend crossing the finish line of her very first 10K

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Does this make me a terrible runner?

Does it make me a terrible runner (or non-runner?) if I decided to take this week off from running because I’m starting my half-marathon training next week?

To be fair, I’m still running my 10K on Sunday, but I have only run 3 miles this week, with a few (okay I won’t lie, just one!) 30 Day Shred(s) thrown in.

But right now I’m feeling pretty guilty because it’s Thursday, I’ve only run once this week, and I’m on my third beer for the night.  (I don’t work on Fridays, so don’t judge me too harshly!)

And oh yeah, I love my life.  I live in paradise and I have FOUR day weekends!  And I can run any day of the year outside.  Okay, you can hate me.  I would hate myself if I didn’t live this awesome life.  At least I know how lucky I am!

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Upcoming Races 2011.

I have a few upcoming races to get ready for.  2 of which are very last minute, but I’m excited to have some goals and reasons to keep myself honest with my running!

On Sunday I will be running in the Hawaii Pacific Health Women’s 10K I’ve never run in an all female race, so I’m looking forward to it.  I am NOT looking forward to waking up at 4 am once again though.  Although I’m fortunate to live in Hawaii, the unfortunate part about races here are that they start at the ass-crack of dawn because of the heat.

Next Saturday the hubs and I are running the Run for Hops 10K which I’m super excited about because a) I get to travel to the Big Island for the first time ever and b) that afternoon we are going to the Kona Brew Fest, the true reason for our trip out there.  I convinced my husband that we would feel much better about drinking a ridiculous amount of beer if we signed up for the race in the morning.  He’s still not convinced.

(oh, and it’s our 6 year wedding anniversary that day too.  It’s going to be an awesome weekend!)

Then in May I’m hoping to run the Hibiscus Half Marathon in Honolulu.  Sorry, no link as there’s nothing posted about it yet.  I really want to try to run it by myself because I’ve never done a run longer than 8 miles alone.  I want to prove to myself that I am capable of it.

Now I need to get off of the internet so I can go run.  I have some bloody foot injuries from our tromp in the mud on Saturday, but I’m hoping some bandages and some motrin will make it manageable during my run today.

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Mud Pirates plunder.

On Saturday we met up with 4 other friends on the Marine Corps Base to run in the annual Swamp Romp, a 5 mile course through mud, ocean, fish ponds, and over, under and through various obstacles.

One of the best parts about the Swamp Romp is people gawking- looking at all of the team names and staring at all the wonderful costumes.  This year we wanted to look like idiots fierce so we donned our best pirate gear and showed up as the Mud Pirates, ready to plunder any and all obstacles that came our way.  Our team mascot was Petey the Parrot and he made it through the entire course mud-free and intact.

During one part of the course I looked at my husband and my friend C (who both ran the marathon in December) and said, “This is harder than the marathon!”  I think it was the trudging through miles of mud and getting small rocks stuck in my shoe that made it seem so difficult.  Plus, Marines yelling at you to go through the mud on your knees and to “run faster!” really sucked.

The sweet reward at the end was beer and the promise of a beautiful beach day.  We all tried to wash up and donned our bathing suits to spend the entire day at the beach with some beer and friends.

Our time was not as good as last year, but at 1:23 for 5 miles of obstacles and mud, I’m okay with it.  We should have gotten bonus points for making it entirely through with all eye patches, daggers, and parrots intact.  I’m just sayin’….


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Keeping me honest.

Perhaps the reason I’ve neglected this blog so much since the marathon is because I’ve neglected my running so much since the marathon.  I’ve finally figured it out though.  I’ve still been running, but I haven’t been running with a purpose.  When I was training for the  marathon and the various races in between, I had to stay motivated and keep my end goal in mind.  Without something to strive for (or run for) my running has become sporadic and lackadaisical.

So I’ve found a half marathon in May that I’m signing up for, something to keep myself on track and honest.  The truth is, I miss my long runs.  As much as I whined and bitched about having to give up Friday nights and Saturday mornings to run an ungodly amount of miles, I miss that feeling.  I miss the satisfaction of crossing that run off my training plan, eating a huge breakfast afterwards, and remembering all the reasons that I love to run.

So with a new goal in sight, I’m ready to get back on track and embrace the suck awesomeness of running again.

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I’ve been living in ignorant weight bliss for over a month now.  I have been purposefully weighing myself on a really old scale (I’ve had since my first year of college) just because I knew it was a few pounds off and it let me live in a ignorant state of weight happiness.

The first clue that my scale was wrong was when I got on it after a exceptionally gluttonous day and it said I weighed 115 pounds.  Now, there is absolutely no way in hell that I weighed that much little.  I haven’t weighed 115 pounds since 8th grade (maybe). I got right back on it and it said I weighed 120. Big fat skinny chance.

Now, I am not going to get into specific weight numbers as I know that every body is so completely different and I personally don’t like to compare myself to others using those dreaded scale numbers.  But I will say that for over a month I happily hopped on that scale to see what ridiculous number would read out on the digital display.  Even when I was feeling crappy or having a particularly bad day, that scale always lifted my spirits and kept me blissfully and ignorantly happy.

Until yesterday when I decided it was time to stop living in this make-believe world and own up to the fact that even if the scale says I am skinny, my muffin top and screaming jeans and shorts are really telling me the truth.  No, they aren’t conspiring against me, they are just trying to get that lying p.o.s. scale out of the house.

So I broke down and bought a new scale.  It was actually a sad moment when I said a silent goodbye to the only scale that I would dare call my best friend.  Just to be sure, I weighed myself one last time (ah- ignorant bliss!  But the numbers say I’m skinny!!) and then weighed  myself on the new one….  Wow.  Why have I been living in denial for so long?  WTF old scale?  I suddenly hate you for LYING to me for all this time.  Why would you do this to me?  It was your secret evil plan to make me fat wasn’t it?  You were conspiring against me so that I felt okay about eating more cookies or skipping more runs.

Well screw you old scale, you are now sitting in the trash and I am sitting here trying to figure out how I have gained such a ridiculous amount of weight since the marathon.  Okay, it’s not that ridiculous, it’s just realistic when compared to what EVIL SCALE had been telling me.

So I’m motivated now.  I miss running.  I need to replace that strange ridiculous friendship I made with that scale with the old friendship I had with running.  So I’m sorry running, sorry that I used you for so long and then just left you all by yourself so that I could hang out with the posers that are cookies and couches and movie theater popcorn.  I hope I never do that to you again.  I promise my love affair with Evil Scale is over.  I have realized who my one true love has been all along.  Please forgive me.  Please be good to me once again.

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