2024 Honolulu marathon recap
I trained 10 months just to fail.
Yep. You read that right.
Have you ever trained for an event for almost an entire year just to completely fail?
When you read it like that, it probably sounds really sad. But I'm here to tell you that failing my goal of running a sub-4-hour marathon in Honolulu a week ago was actually the best experience of my life.
And one of the hardest.
Here's my recap of the event. Hope you enjoy it.
The Taper:
Let's rewind a hot minute.
In the 2 weeks leading up to the race, I was experiencing some extreme stress and anxiety about it. I set this goal in March 2024, and it was actually time to face the music. And despite all the training I had done, I didn't feel like I was ready for it mentally.
The week I was getting ready to leave, I was getting really upset randomly throughout the afternoons, thinking about traveling and leaving my husband and dogs. For some reason, I was absolutely dreading going back to a place I truly consider a home. Something was just off.
And now, in hindsight, I can see that my goal was truly out of reach even before it began.
I never *actually* believed I could do it.
But I refused to let myself believe that in the moment.
You can tell the taper blues really got to me this time, huh?
For anyone interested, my taper was 3 weeks long:
Week 1 = 90% of max training volume (36 miles)
Week 2 = 60% of max training volume (25 miles)
Week 3 = 55% of max training volume (22 miles)
The week of the race, I did 2 short shakeout runs, one before I left Oklahoma and one the day before the race.
Before the Race:
The first morning we woke up in Hawaii, my HRV dropped from 66 to 44 BPM, and I was extremely stressed about my recovery. I figured that the travel across time zones had really just destroyed me, so we pressed on and enjoyed the first few days on the island before the race.
Fun fact: We spent $130 on carbs at Target on our way from the airport to our hotel, but we didn't eat any of them. It turns out it's really easy to carb load when you're in Hawaii (hello, acai bowls).
For the 2 days leading up to the race (Friday and Saturday), we ate ~500 grams of carbs each day. I was really proud of that because it felt so easy to get done, much unlike previous carb loads I have done.
My carb load looked like this:
Wednesday (4 days before) = 123 P | 304 C | 57 F
Thursday (3 days before) = 108 P | 437 C | 53 F
Friday (2 days before) = 103 P | 490 C | 72 F
Saturday (1 day before) = 99P | 490 C | 60 F
Note: These carbs don't do a ton for us during the race, but they support our body in the recovery process. Between the three of us (myself, my cousin Maddie, and my sister-in-law Mollie) we didn't have any soreness after the race. Our quads were a little tight on days 2 and 3 post-race, but we were also out getting 20k steps and hiking. The three of us did not train together or train the same way, we came to Hawaii from three different locations in the US, and the only thing we had in common was our carb load. Tell me that isn't the best proof that the shit I preach actually works :)
Race Day Morning:
Well. We made it to race day. That's how I felt waking up at 2:30 AM, feeling puffier than a marshmallow left in the microwave for slightly too long.
I looked at the weather to reveal 90% humidity outside, and after a moment of absolute dread for what was ahead of us, I jumped out of bed and got ready to do the damn thing.
I put on my vest, which instantly felt too heavy. I had packed 40 ounces of water + 8 gels + a bag of gummies + my phone. I literally told myself in my head "ignore it you big baby." Yes, I have a self-deprecating internal voice when it comes to running, and that's how I work through mileage when it's tough. More to come on this :)
As soon as we walked outside around 4 AM, it felt HOT. In the previous days, we had felt a nice breeze in the mornings, and we actually felt chilly when we got up. NOT on race day. It was hot.
We walked about 0.8 miles to get to the starting line and find a bathroom, along with 26,000 other runners doing either the marathon or the simultaneous 10K race. And that's when shit started hitting the fan. Not literally though, thank goodness.
We had to walk pretty far back into Ala Moana Beach Park to find a bathroom with a short-ish line, but it still took us until 4:50 AM to finish using the bathroom. Mind you, the race started at 5 sharp.
We fast-walked over to the bridge to get back to the main road (there's essentially a moat around the park between the road and the grass).
And that's where we got completely stuck in a huge group of people. It was hot. I couldn't see anything because I'm 5 feet tall. My phone service wouldn't work. And the worst part is that we weren't moving anywhere.
After what seemed like an eternity of being pushed around in this massive group of sweaty people, the countdown for the race began, and fireworks started going off to our left, where the starting line was.
Still, no movement in the mass of people.
After about 5 minutes, we actually started moving.
We jumped over a stone wall and finally got to the main road at 5:07 AM. Okay, now we just needed to get to the actual starting line, which we did about 3 minutes later. But we were walking. And we were walking extremely slowly.
In the days leading up to the race, Maddie, Mollie, and I had talked about trying to run as fast as we possibly could before the sun came up. We planned a positive split, knowing that once it got hot, we would be done for. So as we got closer to the start line, we got ready to run, and run hard.
Miles 1-6:
We finally crossed the starting line in a sea of people that was more congested than I ever imagined or remembered, having run this race twice before.
Maddie and I were weaving in and out of so many people that I literally thought we might be running more laterally than actually moving forward.
By mile 2, I looked at Maddie and said I couldn't keep body-checking people and needed to slow my roll a bit, or I was going to waste too much energy. We had clocked our first two miles at 9:38 and 9:34, which was much slower than we needed. I was discouraged at that point, which was when things started to go to a really dark place.
Yes. At mile 2. WOOF.
Maddie took off ahead of me, and by mile 5, I had finished all 40 ounces of water and 1 gel, and I was hanging on for dear life.
I was running down the main strip of Waikiki trying to enjoy the scenery when I saw fellow Coach Nicole yelling for me and taking a video of me suffering. Love her for that :) And during that time I got to enjoy all the 10K runners sprinting past me to their finish line up ahead. I texted my husband, Max, as well as our other EPN Coaches asking for prayers, knowing I was about to hit my first big incline, feeling dehydrated and pissed off.
Average split for miles 1-6 = 9:44, 34 seconds off my goal race pace.
At this point, I had to accept that I wasn't running this race under 4 hours. It was hot, I was angry, and I had a really deep side stitch that I think originated from my heavy vest. Things were looking bleak, and I knew I had to buckle in to hit a 200 ft incline in the next 10 minutes.
Miles 7-16:
Running the next few miles required me to figure out what the rest of this day was going to look like. Was I going to veer off and just call it good at the 10K mark or was I actually going to bite the bullet and run the next 20 miles that I signed up for?
I kept going.
At this point, I hadn't had any more carbs in my system yet because I was feeling a bit nauseous from the heat. Once I got over the hill at Diamond Head, I had another gel and finally started to feel my stride.
My splits up the rolling hills were between 10:00 and 10:20, but by mile 12, I clocked a 9:33 and I felt like I might really be able to do this. It might have helped that I took a caffeinated gel at the end of mile 11. Highly recommend the new ones from BPN!
I didn't bring my earbuds because I almost never run with headphones in a race (I like to enjoy the energy), but the mojo just wasn't there from the crowds that day. So I cranked up Big Bootie Mix on Spotify, set up my speakerphone in my vest, and blasted to mile 16 in the 9:30s. I knew that if I could get to mile 16, I could will myself to run 10 more miles.
At this point, the sun was starting to rise, and the sky looked so beautiful with the partial clouds opening for the light to come through. No wonder the air felt so incredibly heavy all morning. Once it actually got light out, you could tell how cloudy it actually was.
At mile 16, an old friend from my CrossFit gym in Honolulu was volunteering, and that really put me in good spirits :) It's amazing what a little cheering can do for you when you're on the brink of war.
Miles 17-23:
Remember those beautiful clouds? Well, by mile 17, the sun came out, and all hell broke loose from there (there was a rainbow, so that was cool).
I remember getting to the aid station at mile 17 and dumping 4 cups of water over my head and down my back. My shoes were completely water logged, my shorts were completely soaked, and the cool water felt so good as the sun was beating down on my face and shoulders.
From that point on, I started pouring more water on my body than I drank. The strategy was simple: 4 cups of water on my head + drink 1 cup of Gatorade at every aid station.
And that, my friends, is how I survived through mile 24 from a fueling perspective, aside from 1 more caffeinated gel at mile 20. Note: this is not advised.
Mile 18 is really where my running split started creeping up, as I needed to walk a lot more than I planned. I started doing some intervals where I would run for 2 minutes and walk for 30 seconds, then walk/stop at each aid station to take my time rehydrating. At this point, I was just going to try to survive.
I felt so incredibly weak at this point that I was just hopeful I could finish in under 5 hours. It was that bad.
And no, it wasn't my legs. It was my heart rate. I was clocking in at 180 BPM by mile 18, and it was all I could do to walk a little to bring it back down before I kicked it into gear again. Surprisingly, my legs never felt sore or in pain throughout the whole race. I'll call that a small win.
The crazy thing is, even with walking as much as I did, these were my splits for these miles:
Mile 17 = 9:58
Mile 18 = 10:18
Mile 19 = 10:19
Mile 20 = 10:30
Mile 21 = 10:57
Mile 22 = 11:46
Mile 23 = 10:57
My slowest mile of the race, mile 22, was the trek back up to Diamond Head. An absolute dagger to the heart. There was no shade, we were in neighborhoods with no one around, and I was just trying to get to the top of that damn volcano again. Lucky for me, this mile was only to get back to the BOTTOM of the volcano.
Miles 24-26:
So here is where the real fun begins.
Mile 24 is the beginning of the climb back up Diamond Head. At the crest of the hill, there's this local high school band that's banging the shit out of these Polynesian drums. I remembered this from years past, and I kept telling myself I just had to get to those drums, and it would all be over.
As I got about halfway up, I HEARD THE DRUMS.
I WAS ALMOST THERE.
When I finally reached the drums, I had 2 miles to go.
I had just spent the last 7 miles walking and running my way through the battlefields of Hawaii Kai. When I got to the top of that hill, I told myself that this was it.
If I never, ever want to run again, I don't have to.
But I HAVE to, and I mean HAVE to run these next 2 miles straight through.
No matter how slow I go, I will run these last 2 miles without stopping.
And guess what? I fucking did.
I crossed the finish line at 4:27:42, according to my Garmin, only 27 minutes and 42 seconds slower than my goal race time.
And in that moment, I couldn't have been more proud of my failure.
I hated every single second of this race, from the moment I woke up in the morning to the walk back to the hotel, which was 2 miles long by the way (RIP).
But the experience I gained as a runner and as a human during this race was unlike anything I have gone through before.
I failed publicly.
Like, really failed.
And guess what?
No one cared.
Our goals and dreams are meant to scare us. And if they don't, what's the point anyway?
This year was not my year to run a sub-4-hour marathon. But eventually, it will be.
Stay tuned.
If you want to become a better runner in 2025, the best way to do it is to first get stronger and more mobile. And the best way to do that is to join The Practical Athlete. It was built for people like you.
And if you want me to coach you through the most mentally and physically challenging experience of your life in 2025, join me for a coaching consult :) I'd be happy to convince you that this was all worth it.
I hope you enjoyed reading and reliving my race with me.
Until next time,
Kate
