the road after Kaanapali

I just got back from what feels like an eternity. Ten days away from home is a long time. I’m enjoying a few days here and will then be on my way to DC for a conference. Life normalizes after October 2nd.

On the plane back to Oakland, I proudly wore my Maui Marathon Finisher’s t-shirt. A woman sitting near me on the plane noticed and started talking to me. She ran Maui with Team-In-Training (this was her second Maui marathon). I told her who we were and she said she saw us at the marathon (the red is hard to miss amidst all that purple). She also noticed us during our training runs at Ocean Beach. In usual fashion, we compared marathon notes. I told her we were among the very last to finish. I also described how most of the tents were gone, so we couldn’t take advantages of the perks like the massages and Starbucks. (I know. I’ll get over the whole Starbucks thing… eventually.)

She was curious about our group and I told her how we run together and finish together. She said, “Oh, Team-In-Training isn’t like that. We eventually run by ourselves and cross by ourselves.” Although I failed to catch her name, I felt bad for her. Here she was, a totally fit, multi-marathon runner who probably made it in time for the perks. And here I was, out of shape (even though I do run), single marathon runner with absolutely no intention of running another one. I was also envious of her feet because I highly doubt her tootsies went through the hell mine went through with all the blistering and such. Anyway… I felt bad because she ran with a HUGE group but eventually crossed alone. To me, marathon running is a team sport. To cross the finish alone makes one the absolute loneliest number.

As I mentioned before, I’m still processing this whole thing. At this point, I have to say that as a runbutan, the victory did not end at the finish line. I don’t think I would have pulled through the recovery without the generous nature of my teammates. Although I didn’t get to know everyone, I cherish what we have all been bound to.

As you may know, I’ve had a blister problem since we hit the 20 mile training. From there, even short runs have been unkind to my feet. After the marathon, I went to bed in agony nursing my monster-sized blisters. I couldn’t walk that day and the ones that followed. Like I already said, the coaches were great. They called to check up on Tzel and I. When they found out we hadn’t eaten yet (it was after 9pm and we came back from the marathon at about 4pm), Alex and Cici came to our room and gave us pizza, leg cream and salonpas to nurse our aching bodies, and made sure we were hydrating properly.


Coach Cici playing with her new ukelele.

The following night was the victory party. Although painful, I made the short journey to be with my fellow runbutans. (I’ll share more about that night in another entry.) I always knew that this team was unique, but hearing about everyone’s journey shed new light for me. Each person was battling something during the run and each person had a unique story to tell. It was great to know that although we had so much and so little in common, we were all comfortable enough to share.

On the plane ride back to the bay area last night, I was reflecting on this whole experience. One thing that came to mind is that I am incredible lucky to have the friends that I have – both new and old. For me, I realized how beautiful and kind everyone is - especially after the race when I was in my recovery state. The small, simple and yet meaningful things that people shared and people did for me were immeasurable.

On the walk back to the condo after the victory party, I was in terrible pain. I had to take off my slippers and walk barefoot on raw feet on the pavement. It was fine until we crossed the driveway, which had small pebbles that I kept stepping on. Camille and Diana were with me and in my breaking point of agony, I sat down on the pavement in tears telling myself how much I hated my feet. Immediately, Diana made her way to the room to carry the things we were bringing back while Camille sat next to me in silence, consoling me in my moments of weakness and pain. When Diana came back, I got back up on my feet to go to the room. She kindly walked in front of me sweeping away the small pebbles so that I could walk on a clear path to the room.


The lovely ladies of D107: Camille, me (the adopted child), Diana, Tina and Maria.

The following day I was set to leave Maui for Honolulu to meet up with my best friend. Again, everyone was kind and friendly. The ladies of D107 provided a place for me to stay, while Ronnie and Jose returned the pots and pans to the front desk for me because I couldn’t walk the walk. Also, a good chunk of the team was at the airport at the same time as I was. With the help of Tina and Maria, I made it to the airport with good company and laughs as we drove my the infamous “team bush.” My luggage was extra heavy and having to wheel that stuff in with bad feet was quite a chore. Coach Herb was kind enough to take over and turn in my luggages o’ goodies.

Tired and sweaty, I was secretly dreading the walk to the terminal. Again, the runbutans came to my rescue and requested a wheelchair for me. Faith was kind enough to wheel me in (as I was nervously thinking, how in the world is this tiny thing going to wheel in my monstrous body through the gates?). In truth, I had fun simulating a roller coaster through the terminals. I’ll never look at that airport the same again. The team stuck around with me as I went through security and made sure I made it to the gate.

Again, as fate would have it, Coach Patrick was on the same flight as me to Honolulu. He took care of me during the last leg of the flight by wheeling me to the plane and carrying my things. In Honolulu, he went on to haul our luggage to the waiting area (as I sat on my lazy injured ass). His sister picked us up from the airport and they took me to have my first official Leonard’s malasadas before taking me to my hotel. Patrick also went the distance by taking me and my best friend Caroline out to dinner the next evening and then spent a day with us around the island on Thursday. We ended the evening by watching a UH women’s volleyball game (something I’ve always wanted to do since I was a little kid). He even called to check up on me and my feet before he headed back to the bay area on Saturday. Yea for caring coaches:)


Coach Patrick lounging at the airport before heading out to Honolulu.

For those of you who don’t know, I’m fiercely independent in nature. It’s from my dad. I’m not used to needing so much help and am even worse at asking for it. It was wonderful being taken care of, but deep down inside I was totally embarrassed and felt like such a weakling. My first night in Honolulu, I sat in my hotel room alone and started crying because so many people were there to witness me at such a terrible low. But even at my lowest point, they managed to carry me and take care of me. They answered my moments of need before I could muster up the courage to ask (they probably knew I wouldn't be able to ask). I see now that this is why in three years, the runbutans have a 100% finish rate.

The team really stuck it out with me by making light of everything. When I was getting wheeled all over the place, Celisse and others kept telling me to be proud because I have battle scars to show my accomplishment. Faith had a ball speeding down the aisles of the terminal. Alex shared is butter mochi, Cici played her ukelele, and Herb kept cracking dirty jokes! After a dismal post-marathon, Tina was her positive and wonderful self. When we parted ways with the folks going back to the bay area, Patrick was actually happy to wheel me in to our terminal because it meant we would get first dibs on our seats. I couldn’t help but be happy on the outside because I was surrounded by nothing but love. That is the beauty of this team. Our unconditional love for each other didn’t end at the finish line. Instead, it carried us beyond that and continues to do so.


Coach Herb demonstrating one of his dirty jokes. (Insert laughter here.)

This is why I felt bad for the Team-In-Training woman. Although she probably crossed with good time and will go far in her running career, she will never have the honor or luxury of being a runbutan. The finish line was her end point. For the runbutans, the finish was just the beginning.


P.S. The day I arrived in Honolulu, I watched the finale of Rockstar INXS. Unfortunately, MiG Ayesa lost. Oh well, it’s not about the finish, it’s about the distance. With that, I’m sure MiG will go far.