Marathon
signs sum it up:
‘You’re all winners’

Marathoners were greeted
with fair weather and free shiatsu

By Debra Barayuga
Star-Bulletin

Michael Seabolt has something to brag about when he returns to school today.

The 13-year-old, who attends Wahiawa Intermediate, ran the Honolulu Marathon yesterday with a time of 4:20 -- finishing way ahead of his math teacher, Pam Connors.

Seabolt was one of nearly 1,300 participants between the ages of 10 and 19 who entered the 25th Honolulu Marathon.

"Conditions were better this year because you're not fighting the wind and rain," said Seabolt, who said yesterday was his second and probably his last Honolulu Marathon. He may be in Arizona at this time next year.

Overcast skies with no winds and a sprinkle of rain in some areas -- ideal conditions for a marathon -- welcomed 33,655 who signed up to run the scenic 26 miles along Waikiki Beach, Diamond Head to Hawaii Kai and back.

The resounding boom of a howitzer at 5 a.m. sent the elite striding down the floodlighted boulevard to the cheers of onlookers and latecomers.

The wheelchair participants -- their arms pumping -- had led the way five minutes earlier. Fireworks lit up the skies as the rest of the runners followed.

Galen Tsujiuchi has experienced the marathon from a higher perspective.

For the past three marathons, he's beenil,11p,8p operating a platform lift where the mayor and race dignitaries stand above the crowd at the start of the race. From his perch, he can see the crowd of participants lining up as far as Piikoi Street, with hordes on foot appearing from all directions.

The machine operator from Manoa still can't get over the feeling of being suspended nearly 15 feet above a sea of runners. They pass below him as they cross the starting line on Ala Moana at Auahi Street.

"It's like vertigo," he said. "Literally, it's like you're on a boat with people moving past you like water."

Along the race route, onlookers lined the sidewalks in beach chairs and at bus stops, cheering and clapping enthusiastically. Graveyard-shift workers headed home, hotel workers on their way to work and early morning joggers stopped to catch a glimpse of the runners.

At separate intersections in Waikiki, two women held signs saying "You are all winners."

At aid stations, tables were stacked four or five high with water cups, wet sponges and filled garbage cans. Excited volunteers waited with laundry baskets ready to pick up the trash tossed their way.

Drummers near Kahala Mall and a woman strumming a ukulele on the roadside joined the throngs of supporters.

By the time many participants had slowed to a walk and were making their way up the hill around Diamond Head, the lead runners were on their way back.

Cindy Rosebrough's students at Kaimuki Intermediate and members of the Kalani High School Kiwanis Club, draped in sarongs, waited with cowrie shell leis at the finish line, presenting each finisher with a lei.

Volunteers had spent the morning unpacking boxes of the leis and untangling them.

Kalani student Chris Lee said helping out was "better than staying home watching TV."

At the first aid tent at Kapiolani Park, medics were pleased no one appeared to require serious medical treatment.

Dr. Larry Rotkin said complaints were relatively minor -- mostly cramps, blisters, cuts and dehydration. A race volunteer hobbled in at one point, his foot and an ice bag bound with duct tape after he twisted his ankle stepping off a curb.

Despite the language barrier, emergency medical technician Scot Gannon communicated successfully with Japanese runners by pointing to parts of the body and asking "itai?" for pain.

The line to the Aisen School of Shiatsu, at the Waikiki Shell end of the park, stretched as far back as the bandstand with only two hours left before the tent was to close at noon.

Seventy of Sensei Fumihiko Indei's students, professionally licensed, were offering 10 to 15 minutes of shiatsu free to any finisher and were trying to accommodate as many as possible.

Marathon coverage in Sports online