Honolulu Marathon – Virtual Beachfest
4 December through 12 December 2021
If you run, you’re a runner. It doesn’t matter how fast or how far. It doesn’t matter if today is your first day or if you’ve been running for twenty years. There is no test to pass, no license to earn, no membership card to get. You just run. – John “The Penguin” Bingham
Ah, Hawaii – isles of volcanoes, majestic sea cliffs, luaus, mai tais, too-good-to-be-true beaches, and so much more to include here. Full of beauty and culture, it’s easy to make memories of a Hawaiian vacation last a lifetime. At the start of 2020, I pinned my hopes on such a vacation and giving the 2020 Honolulu Marathon another shot in the arm, so to speak. At least that was the plan, but…
The 2020 cancel culture forced my hand to reevaluate the alternatives for the 2021 Honolulu Marathon. Do I purchase airfare, book a hotel, and physically run Honolulu, or do I forgo the requisite red tape involved when traveling to the islands compliments of the Wuhan contagion and run the marathon at home, virtually? I jumped at the chance even though it wasn’t the preferred alternative.
In an ideal world, my personal philosophy is to make a virtual race as authentic as possible. From what I learned in chemistry and physics; nothing is ideal. I may be able to replicate the marathon distance, but many variables cannot be replicated, i.e., actual course profile, weather conditions or spectator participation. However, a virtual race does not have to be an inferior undertaking.
The experience of the Honolulu Marathon taught me a lot during my introduction to the course in December 2014. The memories of the course, race and experience remain forever rooted in my file cabinet of life. They may be tousled in some cobwebs or blanketed with a little dust, but the memoirs remain intact and continue to be an integral part of my life’s experiences.
Honolulu lies 2,535 miles from my humble place of abode, as measured along Earth’s great circle. I learned it’s wise to approach the Honolulu course with a healthy measure of respect. I learned that December’s tropical island weather can be unforgiving – heat, humidity, rain, and wind instantly come to mind. I learned that after completing the 26.2-mile course in the shadows of Diamond Head (Lē‘ahi as the Hawaiians call it), I’ll have earned that coveted warrior finisher’s medal and the post-race feeling of being a warrior. But most of all, I learned the humbling frustration that comes from having to walk flat stretches I had no intention of walking and feeling exhaustion I had no intention of feeling. And I learned (or should I say confirmed) that although I’m a sucker for the course, I’m no kama‘aina.
Because of last year’s marathon cancelation, marathon organizers allowed entrants to defer their 2020 entry fees to 2021 or apply them to the Honolulu Marathon Virtual Beachfest with options to complete 26.2 miles of the marathon in a single day or over multiple days. Runners had a choice of three race categories: the full marathon, the Start to Park 10K or the Kalakaua Merrie Mile. Partakers may choose to take part in one, two or all three events. My chosen distance, the marathon, fits right into my usual training regimen.
Normally, I would’ve loved the opportunity to pack my bags and board a five-hour flight out of LAX to Honolulu to bask in the aloha spirit, a spirit personified by the warmth, friendliness, and sincerity of Hawaii’s kama‘aina. Preferably, I wanted to challenge myself with the in-person version of the race; however, a part of me looked forward to running in my proverbial backyard, far and distant from any aloha spirit.
With the virtual event, I could run the marathon distance at my leisure anytime during the month of December in my hometown on the city streets I’m so familiar with. The best part is that participants still earn the stylish finisher’s medal and the fashionable event tee-shirt.
Race organizers subsequently sent out emails tailored to virtual runners with instructions how to create an online account, downloading bibs, and uploading virtual results. Upon verification of results, swag is mailed to finishers sometime during the month of January 2022.
There’s a mishmash of diverse routes with varying distances encompassing the same degree of difficulty throughout neighborhoods surrounding my home I use to break up the monotony of running the same route. Although the Honolulu course takes place below 124 ft above MSL, there is still a lot of up-ing and down-ing; but, in my hometown, whichever route I elect to run, it’s pancake flat with only minor gradients, if one can find them.
Let’s do this:
The virtual context of this multi-day event affords me the perfect opportunity to begin my training for the March 2022 Modesto Marathon. Set to lead a 5:30 pace group, proper training is essential to my success. I paced a corresponding time at Shiprock, NM in 2015 and found that while sustaining a 12:32 mile pace may sound easy, it took a lot of patience.
In 1908, by Executive Order No. 989, Theodore Roosevelt required that all his officers of all military branches be able to complete a march of fifty miles within three days in under twenty hours of actual marching, including rest breaks. At the time of this writing, although I may not possess the strength and stamina equivalent to my antecedents, I’m content with a “march” of at least twenty-six miles spread out over six days:
Day 1 – 3.87 miles: It was a comfortable mid-afternoon late autumn day with Old Sol hovering a few degrees above the horizon. With the sun setting at 1643 hours, I wanted squeeze in this run before darkness fell across the land. I began the first mile with an easy pace feeling the effects of my inconsistent training comparable to how I felt at the City to the Sea Half Marathon just two weeks earlier. As my Garmin chimed in at one mile, I picked up the pace for the next quarter mile only to stop at a busy intersection.
Typically, waiting at a red signal usually kills my running impetus forcing me to walk for a few minutes. I walked across the busy street as right-of-way was assigned to me and slowly began running for the next quarter mile as I decided to cross over a busy four-lane arterial road.
Jaywalking across the busy roadway, I weaved my way through a neighborhood titled Lisendra Heights, admiring the Christmas lights and decorations adorning many of the properties as I traversed the streets. One home, in particular, immediately sparked recollections of Clark Griswold’s ornamented home in the movie National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Thousands of LED lights synchronized to audible Christmas music covered the front yard, walls, garage, driveway, shrubs, bushes, and roof. One could also simultaneously listen to the music in the comfort of their vehicle simply by tuning their radio to a specific low-power FM frequency.
I circled through Lisendra’s Sunset Park, which also functions as a glorified storm water retention basin, to the place from whence I came finishing an energizing run in just under forty-five minutes.
Day 2 – 4.82 miles: Following a Sunday rest day, I resumed my “marathon” run, thinking about how this is the easiest marathon I’ve ever run. This route is basically the same as my Day 1 run. However, I incorporated running two laps through Comb’s Park, another storm water retention basin, near the Westwind neighborhood. I exited the confines of the park via an irrigation canal easement circling back to Lisendra, once again passing by the “Griswold” house to appreciate the festive atmosphere. Incidentally, of all my virtual miles on my pancake-flat courses, the only hills, albeit small, were the pedestrian paths through Comb’s and Sunset Parks.
Running at a modest pace, I threw in some small walk breaks to make it interesting, finishing in fifty-two minutes.
Day 3 – 4.60 miles: Identical to Day 2, with only moonlight and streetlights illuminating the roads, this run consisted of only a single lap through Comb’s Park before venturing into Lisendra. Hoping for a light show, the “Griswold” house was unexpectedly dark, suggesting the light show is a weekend occurrence. With a pace akin to Day 2, my total running time equated to fifty minutes.
Day 4 – 6.80 miles: Following a couple of days of rest and some spin-circuit cross-training thrown in for good measure, I was unsure where or how far I wanted to run on a pleasant afternoon. Sans food energy, I began in the usual manner similar to my previous runs except I looped my way through and around the Sycamore and Copper Creek localities. After three miles, my legs began to feel heavy forcing me to slow to a moderate pace. Trying to overcome the urge for unsolicited walk breaks, I focused on maintaining my pace towards the fourth mile. Out of nowhere, I managed to grab hold of a second wind, propelling me to a nine-minute fifth mile. Unfortunately, the final 1.8 miles weren’t quite as fast.
Day 5 – 4.20 miles: I opted for an entirely different course this late afternoon day. With cool temperatures fit for running, I headed in an easterly direction into the Crestwood area. Starting off with a modest pace for the first couple of miles, a red signal light disrupted my stride; however, I immediately reclaimed my running stride once I got the green. By the third mile, I garnered enough steam to maintain a 9:30 mile pace to finish in a robust forty-six minutes.
Day 6 – 3.20 miles: By looking at the statistics, one could deduce that this run may fit into the outlier category. Whether it was the eagerness to finish the final day running my “marathon” or I had excess energy levels, I felt that I am finally beginning to get back into my pre-pandemic fitness level. I started my route comparable to Day 5, minus the extra mile through the Crestwood area. I clocked my first mile at 9:42 with each succeeding mile a few seconds faster. I crossed the imaginary finish line with a solid showing of thirty minutes, clocking the final quarter mile at an 8:20 pace. For me, it seemed “Kenyanesque.” It seems like an eternity since I recorded such a time. That’s all folks.
FINAL STATISTICS:
Distance (Garmin): Marathon+ (27.49 mi)
Date: 4 December through 12 December 2021
Bib No.: 47685
Total run time: 5:02:59
Average pace: 11:01 per mile
Average cadence: 133 steps per minute
Overall rank: 1/1
Gender rank: 1/1
Division rank: 1/1
Date Distance Time Pace
Dec 4 3.87 44:09 11:24
Dec 6 4.82 52:43 10:56
Dec 7 4.60 50:51 11:03
Dec 10 6.80 1:18:37 11:33
Dec 11 4.20 46:31 11:04
Dec 12 3.20 30:08 9:25
Totals 27.49 5:02:59 11:01
Mission accomplished. That was different! What an easy marathon. No pain, niggles, stiffness, or lingering effects.
To conclude my virtual experience, I uploaded six jpeg screenshots of each of my runs saved to my Garmin Connect app to my virtual running web account, self-certifying my distances and times in the process.
Unfortunately, following receipt of official certification, I’ll patiently wait for my swag to arrive in my mail box. As soon as I receive my swag, I will update this review.
What worked:
No starting corrals. The start line was fifty feet from my front door – I was the sole runner in the queue. At the physical marathon, the start corrals embrace 30,000+ runners – not to mention a LONG early morning walk from the hotel in Waikiki. The walk is easier than hitching a ride on the shuttle bus.
No race expo. Didn’t bother me. The on-site expo at the Hawaii Convention Center is interesting to say the least. Japanese signage and companies abound, creating a unique atmosphere – an atmosphere that feels more like a flea market or swap meet. As for my runner bib, simple as downloading a pdf from my web account.
Post-race food. It was as simple as going into the house. The best part – not running out of food because of too many runners. At the actual finish line, amenities include water, bananas, mini bagels, and malasadas, an iconic Hawaiian doughnut-like confection. They are good, but the sweet treats didn’t sit well with me after a 26-mile run. Yup, that’s it.
Wished what worked:
The views. There’s no question that the valley and mountain views near my hometown pale in comparison to those of Oahu’s south shore, the beaches of Waikiki, the arciform profiles of rainbows, Diamond and Koko Head and Maunalua Bay. Not just any marathon can manufacture such marvels of nature.
Start line fireworks show. The pre-dawn spectacular pyrotechnics display is a showpiece of the marathon. Only in my dreams – apart from Independence Day in California – forget about it.
Amazing spectators. As I piloted my legs along the city streets, passers-by could care less what I was doing. Outwardly, they were not fully on board with my agenda and hardly ready to cheer. With the lack of onlookers and the signs some display, I missed the traditional aphorisms runners often encounter – “your legs hurt because you’re kicking so much ass!”, “go random stranger!” or “I trained for months…to hold this sign!”
The ROTC. Around Marathon Mile 7, runners ascend the signature Diamond Head Road incline. At this point, ROTC cadets traditionally line up in the middle of the road holding a super-long diving rope cheering and guiding runners as they climb the base of the volcano’s tuff cone. The only rope I saw? A short, tattered piece lying in the roadway, frayed around the edges by the unyielding vehicular traffic loads.
When all is said and done, would I recommend this race or any other virtual race? Mmmmm, depends. Personally, I prefer officially running the actual event. For whatever reason, if you don’t wish to travel or don’t give a hoot about official results, then yes, design your own course and go have some fun.
On the upside, excluding entry fees, a virtual run is generally a cost-effective and time-saving way to run a marathon course you engineer and choreograph. It can be run anywhere, anytime and at one’s own pace while engaging in a safe and effective way to keep healthy. You can walk the whole race knowing that you are truly the only competitor that matters.
On the downside, there is no “finish line” at a virtual and no one to drape a medal around your neck recognizing your achievement. Instead, you must wait to get the medal in the mail. Undeniably it’s not the same as crossing a big finish line with cheering onlookers, getting a medal, and walking back to the hotel through a slew of fellow marathoners. It’s a bit anticlimactic, but I did it, nevertheless. Perhaps it’d be more gratifying if I ran the entire distance in one day.
The Honolulu Marathon can be an enterprising and adventurous weekend in a telluric setting of tropical birds, flowers and lush green mountains overlooking an aquamarine sea. However, running this, and any, virtual event is strictly for fun and does not count towards improving one’s statistics with running clubs such as the 50-States Club, Half Fanatics or Marathon Maniacs.
As always, it’s onward and upward.
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