In between snorkeling, hiking, roller derby spectating, museum visiting, luau attending, and frozen yogurt eating our way through Hawaii so far, I’ve been squeezing in some runs in preparation for the Philly Marathon.
Big Island Roller Derby - home team was the Hula-gans
Not wanting to take away too much time from the trip, I’ve rushed through interval and speed workouts during the week and gotten up early for a couple longer outings. There was my 13 miles along the Kona coast last Monday, and the 15-miler I knocked out this past Sunday on the Hilo side of the island.
Sunday’s run wasn’t great – none of my runs here have felt fantastic – but I distracted myself with Tina Fey’s Bossypants on my shuffle and pushed through the rain and humidity to finish just as everyone else was getting ready to start the day. The 15 miler was supposed to be followed by a stop at the Kapoho Tidepools before an afternoon in Volcano National Park and an evening of lava viewing.
Instead, we chased the tidepools with a three-hour tour of the Hilo Medical Center (more on that later but not to worry, all is well!) and a marathon session of errands. By the time we got back to the house it was 9:00, and Brent and I promptly crawled into bed.
We awoke the next morning at 3:00 AM, packed up our goldfish crackers and peanut butter sandwiches, and headed off for the clouds. After 10 days on the island, we were finally going to summit Hawaii’s highest peak, Mauna Kea, at 13,796 feet.
Brent’s working on a full report on that one (spoiler alert: we made it!), but suffice it to say that we spent more than seven hours hiking 15.5 miles of pure ridiculousness.
Hangin' Ten at 13,000 Feet
When I got up today, my hips cringed, my ankle (following a nasty turn on the trek down the mountain) groaned, and my calves? My calves bellowed in protest.
I haven’t been this sore all year – not after 16 hours of racing in Virginia, 24 in Pennsylvania, 30 in New York, or 48 in Costa Rica.
I hobbled through the rest of the day perplexed, wondering what had put me over the edge. I felt fine after Sunday’s run, and yesterday’s hike, no matter how grueling, shouldn’t have knocked me out this much.
And then my dad reminded me of my activity the rest of the week:
- 11-mile hike Sunday
- 13-mile run Monday
- Easy run Wednesday
- Intervals Thursday
- Tempo run Saturday
- 15-mile run Sunday
- 15.5-mile hike Monday
That would be nearly 70 miles on my feet in just over a week, more than three times what I averaged in the weeks post-Costa Rica and more miles than I’ve ever covered in that period of time except during a 2008 thru hike across Massachusetts.
I guess that’s the benefit of a marathon training plan – it prevents you from doing dumb things like doubling your mileage in the span of a week. If I could only remember to follow one…