A letter to the coaches

It's a few days after the marathon. Apologies for taking so long to post. I didn't realize how long it would take to process the whole journey. Also, as usual, I got major blisters on my feet. This time they were on the balls of my feet which made recovery a little different. Let's just say that these damn blisters were so big that the nurse in the medical tent (yes, I had to go straight to the medical tent after crossing the finish) had a blast announcing how big and disgusting my blisters were while I was sitting there in pain and defeat. Enough about the lack of professionalism in the medical tent.

I'm writing this entry for the coaches. It's a little winded, but I promise that there's a point to it all. So here it goes...…

In 2000 while I was watching the Olympics, I witnessed the US Men's Volleyball team's disappointing finish. I'm a volleyball fan and one of the standouts on that team was Mike Lambert, a Stanford alum whose career I've been following since he was a Cardinal (boo! hiss!). I remember Lambert's first game as a freshman and thought the Cardinals wasted a perfectly good scholarship on a tall, lanky Hawai`i island boy who couldn't hit the ball over the net to save his life. Here he was, playing in his second Olympic games. In 1996, the US Men's Volleyball team didn't do well either. In 2000, hopes were high and Lambert was supposed to lead the way for the team.

In their final game, they lost and didn't even make it to the medal rounds. In fact, I don't think they even won a single match. It was the most disappointing loss for the team since they medaled in 1984, 1988, and 1992. Meaning, their losing teams were also the teams that Lambert (and some others) were on. I've seen Lambert lose before, but this time around he looked completely defeated. It was like someone totally sucked the life out of him. I felt bad.

The next day I was surfing the net and ran into a letter that announcer Paul Sunderland wrote to Lambert. In the background was a picture of Lambert looking defeated and beat down. In the letter, Sunderland wrote about what it means to be a champion and what it means to win. If I recall correctly, Sunderland wrote that the true sign of a champion has nothing to do with what he wins. Rather, it has more to do with how he loses and the lessons learned when face to face with defeat. He went on to say that he has had the pleasure of watching Lambert's development on and off the court and that he has become a world-class athlete. Losing a series of games does not change the champion you really are.


Team Bullet X Marisigan: Tzel and me.

This story comes to mind because I saw that look of defeat again. Only it was in the face of Coach Rex. On Sunday, the runbutans completed a grueling course and were met at the finish line with no Starbucks Frappuccino, no time clock, no finish line banner, no complimentary massages. Instead, we were met with delays in the medical tent, grumpy workers and volunteers who wanted to go home and were upset we took so damn long to finish, and again, no Starbucks Frappuccino. I was too busy nursing my poor feet that I didn'’t really notice. All that mattered to me was that I finished, survived and completed with the 29 other people on the team.

The next day I went to get a massage with Ricky and Angie. Coach Rex was nice enough to drive us to and from the spa. From the get-go I could tell he was upset about the whole thing. He looked like the Lambert I remember sitting on the floor, head buried in his hands, totally defeated. Like Sunderland, I would like to extend a message to Coach Rex and the rest of the fantastic runbutan coaching team...…

As a member of the runbutan team, I can honestly say that I joined not knowing I would complete the thirty weeks of training. Crossing the finish line was in some ways uneventful. For me, it was uneventful because I couldn't take a picture of the finish line for my thank you cards. Other than that, not having all the frills waiting for me was no big deal. (With the exception of the Starbucks thing - I'm still not over that.) I think Coach Rex felt defeated because for the past thirty weeks, he led the coaches and the runners throughout this process. He was the grand daddy of it all. And like a father, to see any of your children uncared for or not receive any love at the finish has to hurt. Rex was hurting for all thirty of us even when we didn't realize there was any pain to be felt. Rex felt it even before we had a chance to absorb any of it.


Coach Rex videotaping during the victory party.

My message to the coaches is this: there are not enough thank yous in the world to pay you back for the time, dedication and love you all put in to the team. For most of us, this was our first marathon and your guidance throughout this process is what brought the runbutans to the finish. You helped me accomplish something that I never thought would be possible. You helped me test my body, mind and spirit beyond its limits and let me know that anything, including obtaining a Ph.D. is within reach. The night after the marathon, being surrounded by the team also reminded me that we didn't run for the sake of running. We ran because running symbolized different parts of our personal lives and the future of our people. To start together, run together and finish together was a sign of our dedication to ourselves, the people around us and the history that is behind and ahead of us. None of this would have happened without the coaching team. During the marathon, every coach's stop was inspiration to go further and further. Seeing you brought life back into our aching bodies and tired legs. It was your mana and your love that helped us cross the finish line - whatever that finish line was to each of us.

A time clock, a finish banner and even a Starbucks Frappuccino are not signs of a successful finish. No team in that race trained harder or showed the strength and tenacity that we did. For elite athletes, finishing a marathon in two to three hours is easy. Sticking it out with thirty other people through the thick of the Maui heat for over nine hours is something that even the world's best athletes could never do. But the runbutans did it with grace and heart. It is a rite that very few people could claim.

Although I'm sure watching the runbutans take a beating was no easy task, just know that pain is temporary. IT bands will bounce back, blisters will heal, and bodies will be re-hydrated. Coaches, there is no need to bear the burden of the team'’s pains because the victory that you led each and every one of us is so much greater. Salamat and Mahalo for the journey and the many roads that lie ahead.


The 2005 Runbutans.


P.S. In the end, Lambert ended up playing beach volleyball with the legendary Karch Kiraly. Sometimes defeat leads us to legends.