Portland Marathon race report

PORTLAND MARATHON 2008

Portland was my first marathon way back 9 years ago. Even though I bonked hard at Mile 18, that race has always been one of the highlights of my running career, because I got to do the race with my dad. That bonk, though, left a bad taste in my mouth, and I always knew that one day I would get back there and do this race right. So the stars finally aligned in 2008. My training was pretty good after our trip to Europe, and I felt very confident that I could set a PR and go sub 3:30.

We left Spokane at 5am on Saturday, and picked up Andy's sister Megan at the train station in Portland, then we headed off to packet pickup and the expo. We ran into fellow Tri Fusion-ers Dave and Tasha Gordon in the parking garage below the hotel, which was actually the lower level of the expo. Weird... But cool to see some familiar faces in the crowd. I had a nice "9 years later" nostalgia moment walking into the hotel; I was momentarily taken back to that very first marathon...pretty cool. After a quick cruise thru the expo, we headed for my parents place out west, and chilled out for the rest of the afteroon.

After a restless night of sleep (why the heck was I nervous???) the 3 of us got ready and headed for downtown. It was cloudy out, but not raining. Yet. In 37 years of this race (in rainy Portland, Oregon, mind you) it had never rained on race day. That's pretty shocking if you know anything about Stumptown or if you grew up in P-town. Well, today, the Portland Marathon's luck had run out. It started raining shortly after the start and would not quit until well after the race had ended for most. I was psyched about this turn of events, because I love running in the rain, and it kept the temps down in the "perfect" range for running marathons.

In the days leading up to the race I wrestled with how to tactically approach my race, trying to balance my confidence with my recent race performances. I decided to take advantage of the pacing services offered by Portland's Team Red Lizard running team and run with the 3:30 pace group, for a number of reasons. First, my Disneyland Half experience reinforced the lesson to go out slow, especially in a marathon. Second, 3:30 equates to 8:00 pace, which is way easier for me to remember and calculate splits from than 3:20 pace (which is 7:38 pace....boo non-round numbers!) Lastly, I thought that, on the off chance that I felt really really really good at Mile 19 or 20, it would be better to try and chase down the 3:20 group than to try and hold off the 3:30 pace group as I died the last 6 miles.

The first mile or so of any big race is always crowded, and I'm used to being boxed in and having to fight to find clear running room. No difference here, but the one thing I failed to think about was the effect that staying with a pace group would have. Apparantly 3:30 is a very popular time goal, and so this group was at least 100 strong thru the first half of the race. I kept expecting things to thin out as they always do in big races, but it doesn't happen when you are in such a big pace group. Oh well. No worries. I contented myself to yo-yo'ing off the back of the group, a) in an effort to conserve energy, and b) to get some clearer running room. Looking back, this was one of my best moves of the day.

I remember looking around at Mile 10 at this huge group and wondering "how many of you people feel as good as I do right now? How many of you will be left at Mile 24?" I knew I would still be there, cause at this point, I felt incredibly good. In fact, at every aid station where the group inevitably slowed up some, I always found myself zooming up to the front of the group with seemingly zero effort.

I'm super-glad that I put some semi-serious thought and course recon in before the race, because I had decided that I would not move ahead of the 3:30 pace group until Mile 19, no matter how good I felt. I won't lie, it was hard, but I ended up playing a game with myself to see how close I could get to the pacer without going in front of him.

We hit the half in 1:43, just a shade under pace, but these Red Lizard guys knew what they were doing, banking a bit of time for the big climb up to the St. John's Bridge that hit at Mile 16.

Portland's version of "Doomsday"

Everyone always freaks out about the hill up to and over the bridge, and with good reason. Its not really all that steep, but the fact that it comes at Mile 17 makes it tough. But, I had run over this bridge plenty of times in college, and when we got there, it felt like I was back on my home turf. Doesn't hurt that I love to run up hills! I zoomed up the hill with no problem, staying right on the shoulder of the pacer.

This picture must be from last year....cause I don't see the rivers of water flowing down the back side of the bridge :)

I did the ceremonial "spit off the middle of the bridge" at the top, then freaked out as the group pulled a Steve-o and tried to lose me on the downhill. Aaaakkk! I managed to stay with them this time, then we settled back into what still felt like an easy pace. Off thru the neighborhoods of North Portland and then we arrived back "home" at the University of Portland. I stupidly looked for some familiar faces up on the Bluff, then realized that I had not lived there in over 10 years. Ugh. I'm old!

Mile 20, and it was decision time. Ironically, this is the point 9 years ago where I was in full bonk mode. My my, how far I've come! I couldn't hold back any longer. I finally moved ahead of the pacer, said my silent goodbyes to the friendly lizard on a stick, and set off in search of my PR.

I think its kind of funny how warped your brain can get during a long race. Once I moved ahead of the 3:30 pace group, I was feeling great and flying by a ton of people, thinking, hey, that was me 9 years ago. At least at the time it felt like I was flying by them. Because of these sensations, my brain tricked itself into thinking that within a measly span of 1 mile, I must have put at least 3 minutes on the pace group. Ha ha ha. After they caught me at Mile 25, I came to the realization that I probably never got more than a minute in front of them. Just funny how brains work after 3+ hours of running.

Anyway, I didn't walk until almost Mile 24, which, even though I've done 11 marathons, is the farthest I have ever run non-stop. It was just a 10 second break to get my last GU Roctane down. Then I was off again, still thinking that I had at least a few minutes on the pace group. Up the hill to the Broadway Bridge with no problem, then my legs said ouch as I descended the hill to the last aid station. Just like in CDA with Steve, that last downhill did me in, and I was forced to walk again at the bottom. What got me running again was the shock and surprise of seeing that damn lizard on a stick go by me. No way I'm gonna let that thing beat me! Turns out, in a wonderful twist of irony, that the Red Lizard guy who paced the 3:30 group thru the second half of the race was named, of course, STEVE. It was fate. Meant to be. Of course I was going to beat him! :) Well, either that, or he'd run my ass into the ground over the last half mile. I responded to the pass and somehow managed to get back to the lizard, just about the time I started to try and count the number of blocks I had left. Looking at my watch, and it was gonna be close. Stay with the lizard, and I wouldn't make it. Beat him, and I might just get my sub-3:30. As I predicted way back at Mile 10, at Mile 25 all that remained of our once-powerful group was Pacer Steve, me, and 6 others. It felt great to be one of the proud "survivors".

Huge thanks to the Team Red Lizard pacers, Jacob and Steve!

I made my last "lizard pass" with 15 blocks to go and gave it all I had. Kendra Edlin, another Tri Fusion-er screamed at me and told me I looked great. I was thankful for the many great moments I have had this season, because I needed every one of them. I thought of Jessi talking me into racing Onionman with my road rash. I thought of my A+ team willing me to a sub-12 Ironman in June. I thought of Steve pushing me at Tiger and kicking my butt at CDA. And I suddenly found the strength to fight for what I wanted. 6 blocks to go, one last look at my watch...I hope I can run a block in less than 30 seconds! :) The last 3 blocks were a slight uphill (where you at now, Steve????) but I couldn't feel it. I saw my brother and mom and dad yelling for me at the last corner, and took one last look at my watch. 3:29:15 with less than a block to go. YES!!! Victory in the rain! 3:29:34!! I wanted it, I fought for it, and I got it. So satisfying!

Sure...now it stops raining, after we are all done!

Always good to be back home...only wish the weather looked like this for race weekend!

It was a great way to end my season. And now I'm happy to be done for awhile. I am sure my body needs a break.

Who knows what next year will look like...but 2008 was definitely a success! (read on to the next post) :)