A few years back, I took my then girlfriend on our first ever MarathonTours adventure to the Rio Marathon and Half Marathon. There I met Richard St. John. He seemed obsessed with humidity levels of the race and its impact on potential for the race itself and I snarkily made snide comments about it to my gal pal. At some stage, we had cocktails with him and he proved to be an utterly charming and inherently decent guy and I felt incredibly sheepish at any and all comments I made about the dude. Here’s a link to his TED Talk on the keys to success … albeit there’s nary a mention of humidity in there and as such I view it, perhaps full of snark and indicative of my own shortcomings as a human being, as being incomplete.
All of this is to say that the moral of the story is that Richard is a great guy and the only arrogant jackass in this tale is yours truly.
This prologue is all because during my morning run in Honolulu and I really, really, REALLY felt the humidity. And this is coming from a Florida Man who bathes in humidity, lives in humidity, sleeps in humidity, and essentially EXISTS in humidity.
As my iPhone 6s takes TERRIBLE night shots, this is about as good as it gets from this morning’s run past Aloha Tower… perhaps tomorrow I’ll do better when I detour to the King Kamehameha statue outside City Hall and the fictional Hawaii 5-0 HQ.
I suspect this weekend’s marathon in the capital of Hawaii will be humid to the Nth degree. The forecast for our remaining time in paradise is cloudy, rain, and just general not-exactly-brochure-worthy photo opportunity worthy. But today has thus far been the Webster Dictionary definition of perfect weather. Not too hot, calm breeze, and just about a crystal blue sky. It’s been delightful… and that’s not just the mai tais talking!
My absolute favorite thing to do in Honolulu is to take a catamaran from Waikiki Beach out into the ocean. It’s $35-$40 a person (depending on if you’re a repeat cruiser – HINT: You’re ALWAYS a repeat cruiser) for a 90 minute sailing with all drinks included. Hands down, it’s the best deal in Hawaii. Skipper Flynn and his crew of Brian, Chase, and James ensured our fair voyage and our drinks were never depleted. It’s perhaps in the top ten I’ve ever been drunk and surpassed for my Mom the never-ending glass of alcohol in Melbourne on the Tram Car Dinner.
I took solace in the 10 miles I clocked this morning on the myriad Mai Tais; Mom and I would later split a burger to tide us over to the Moose McGuilacuddy’s taco Tuesday happy hour specials for dinner. To be honest though, as I type this blog entry, I’m a bit tipsy and god only knows if it makes any sense. Nonetheless, when you check out the views from the catamaran, I think you’ll understand why I’m not sure I even care if this entry makes sense to others. While mistakes may be made for you, and for me, and well for everybody… this is EXACTLY what I needed to have happen.
