December 12, 2005

Feverish in Waikiki

Yes. Attila the Hub finished the Honolulu Marathon yesterday, raising thousands of dollars for cancer research. I cheered him on at mile 5, and near mile 25—along the final incline below Diamond Head.

Based on his projected time of arrival, I had a few hours to kill in that second location, so I ate breakfast (Starbucks coffee, string cheese, cut-up papaya from the local ABC mart). Then I joined with a couple of the locals in cheering the runners up the hill. We clapped and clapped as thousands of people ran, walked, and limped by, and because I'm rather stupid I didn't stop yelling even after it became clear that I was losing my voice. I was having too good a time with my bilingual friends, who taught me how to cheer the runners on in Japanese. (No. I don't remember the phrase I yelled out hundreds of times, exhorting the Japanese to "keep going," because I have a mind like a sieve. However, I'm told I got the pronunciation better than a lot of round-eyes do.)

And when Attila Hub came up the hill I jogged alongside him, even though I was wearing tennis shoes—not running gear. I even tried to sprint to the finish line, though I didn't make it, of course: he was running downhill by then, and he's a good deal taller and fitter than I am. No matter: his sister cheered him over the finish line, quickly repositioning herself after offering some encouragement at the 21-mile mark.

I didn't realize that supporters have to dress as though they are themselves running: wear the proper shoes, for one thing. And train a bit. I guess that means a minimum of four 20-minute workouts during the week, when I'll be cheering, clapping, and jumping up and down. Then there will be a "long cheer" on Sunday afternoons, wherein I'll hold a sign, act excited, and yell for two hours straight. This will take place in my backyard, of course, and ensure that the neighbors continue to give us a wide berth.

Walking along the course early yesterday morning, I passed by the finish line, so I got to see some of the top-50 finishers—those who managed to complete the event in the first few hours. They all looked svelte and young. Whassup with that?

Now I have some sort of vicious mini-bug, so Attila the Hub is sightseeing around the island with his sister while I cough in our hotel room, read a little Richard Miniter, and doze.

No matter. There's a beautiful view from the balcony, and my fever seems to have gone down. In a while I'll go out again and walk by the water. It's safe here: it just doesn't get cold like it does at home. Being sick in paradise is better than being depressed at home.

There is that lovely moment when you know you're getting better, but still need to take it easy. And avoid coughing very wetly on other people.

Sightseeing tomorrow, if I'm up to it and the cough eases up.

Congratulations, Honey.

Posted by Attila Girl at December 12, 2005 06:03 PM | TrackBack
Comments

it just doesn't get cold like it does at home.

See? Tol'ya! Enjoy!

Posted by: Desert Cat at December 12, 2005 08:12 PM


Congratulations from sunny Florida on picking a nice warm place to have a cold! I always knew you were sensible.

And John did it. Boy oh boy. That is great.

Posted by: k at December 12, 2005 08:29 PM


Glad to hear from k. I was beginning to worry not hearing from that insurance adjuster or k for so many days!

LMA, go ahead and pretend to be sick so that we will feel sorry for you in paradise! Yeah. I'll forget about the foot of snow I've been shoveling!

Posted by: Darrell at December 12, 2005 09:21 PM


I rode the bus back from the finish line with AH and the other finishers. The humidity here—and the grade—led to a lot of collapses, but fortunately none were serious and none occurred within the charity AH was running for.

There weren't two seats together, so I talked to the finisher I found myself sitting with. He was from Omaha, and he told me his friends back home probably wouldn't want to hear about the heat and how it affected his marathon time.

My brain won't work: I'm completely off-kilter. Feels like a drug trip, actually. Not that I'd know.

Posted by: Attila Girl at December 12, 2005 10:17 PM


Hi Darrell!

I'M still here.

http://ksquest.blogspot.com/2005/12/insurance-adjustor.html

http://ksquest.blogspot.com/2005/12/not-hide-nor-hair.html


Posted by: k at December 13, 2005 04:56 AM


Congrats to Hub! I'm in awe since I found I'm fairly...er... allergic to running.

;-)

Sorry to hear 'bout the cough, but heck, sick with a view?

Take care and I hope the bug is shortlived.

Posted by: Darleen at December 13, 2005 07:45 AM


Would the Japanese happen to have been "Gambatte!"?

David

Posted by: David Harr at December 13, 2005 08:06 AM


That looks right: it was Gam-bah-tay, with the G pronounced really hard, almost like a K sound. But there were tones in it, of course, that I can't spell phonetically.

And that final syllable was right between an "ay" sound and an "eye" sound.

Posted by: Attila Girl at December 13, 2005 08:24 AM


Hooray!

Posted by: caltechgirl at December 13, 2005 10:44 AM


The amusing thing is that, even 20 years after learning Japanese and living in Japan, I find myself occasionally trying to tell someone "Gambatte!", because there is absolutely no good English translation for it. I guess that means that you have really immersed yourself in the language...

David

Posted by: David Harr at December 13, 2005 01:22 PM


I ran the Honolulu Marathon in 1987 and thought the humidity would kill me. There were points that year when it felt like you were running in soup.

Posted by: Matt at December 13, 2005 03:15 PM


Well! that's because you ARE.

Thick, hot, enveloping, cozy soup.

People who say the dryness of desert air doesn't make it feel any cooler at the same temp. just don't get it.

That humidity wraps you up and snuggles you tight like a warm blanket.

Posted by: k at December 13, 2005 05:34 PM


k,

I wonder if that insurance adjuster felt that way when you had him tied up in the shed?
Oh, the humanity!

Posted by: Darrell at December 13, 2005 09:10 PM


Or was that humidity?

Posted by: Attila Girl at December 13, 2005 11:41 PM


Shed?

What shed?

Hurricane ate the shed.

AAAALLLLLLLL gone...

Posted by: k at December 14, 2005 03:31 AM


I find an imaginary shed even more traumatic...LMA, you're right...Oh the humidity!

Posted by: Darrell at December 14, 2005 12:31 PM




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