My sincere apologies for the gap in posts, but in going back some time to a post where I discussed my reluctance to ever say, “No, I can’t”, I do occasionally get to the point where a few routine things have to slide a bit in order for me to accomplish other tasks/projects. That obviously happened earlier this week, but all has returned to normal. Well, “normal” being one of those relative words. There is some exciting news though bundled up in all of that. As of yesterday afternoon I hit a major milestone in the non-fiction book project that I am crashing on and even though that puts me at only the 75% mark, it’s sort of like cresting a long hill and the backside of it is shorter and easier going. Not easy, mind you, but easier. That analogy reminded me of the  one time that I got talked into doing the only half-marathon that I have ever done.

Anyone who looks at me can’t imagine such a thing, but it was while we were stationed in Hawaii on Oahu. As these things go, the Kolekole Pass Half-Marathon (13.1 miles)was an annual event that was very popular because it sits on military property that’s not usually open to the public (that’s changed post-911 of course). It is the “pass” that the Japanese flew through on December 7th to bomb the airfields as other bombs were being dropped around Pearl Harbor. The half-marathon path starts at a spot in the U.S. Army Schofield Barracks, goes up the Wai’anae range and down into the flat finish area. Under ordinary circumstance I would never have agreed to this, but as a Battalion Commander, my husband had this really enthusiastic group of young officers and our good friends who lived around the corner always ran it, too. Probably after several beers, I agreed to do this. However, my terms were quite clear – I would walk the uphill part and my hubby and our friends would just have to hang around at the finish until I managed to get there. Deal! I did go out and buy  a brand new set of running shorts, top, and socks for the event – I was going to at least look good. I can say that I didn’t finish last in my gender/age group, but I was also passed by a couple of race-walkers and that was when I was running. At any rate, I did complete it and on the downhill side you hit a long level spot that then leads to the finish line. After the strain of the elevation you think, “Ah, flat!”, but for whatever reason, there is about a 2-mile stretch in that part that is particular humid and it’s like slogging your way through a steam bath. In actuality, it probably isn’t that humid, but you’ve lost the breeze from the higher elevation. Anyway, that, of all spots was where I thought that I might have to start walking again. I managed to keep running at a very slow pace though and as is tradition, there were plenty of people clapping and cheering in those last few hundred yards so that you can’t help but smile and straighten up to look better for the camera. Needless to say, my hubby and friends had had plenty of time to rehydrate and munch on fresh fruit and whatever by the time I crossed the finish line. And no, that experience did not convert me into a runner.