More on the marathon:

The first mile was a crush of folks; walkers and runners jostling through a bottleneck of volunteers. Each of us had a chip on our shoe to track our time & volunteers steered us along, over the sensors that started our time for the whole race. Off we go, the distractions of the beginnings of the Mayor's 5 mile and the Kids Fun Run shaped the first mile. That and the waterfront. I watched my heart rate & tried to remember to look around.

My first mile coincided with the fastest runner's 5th (or so), we crossed paths soon after I was on Naito Parkway. Police cars preceded the glorious and sleek athletes, the athletes that would run the course in under 3 hours. That was the last I saw of them, the best time on that course is 2:17h.

The group I was running with carried on up and right, to the first of two uphills in the course. I can't remember where the cheerleaders started - but we were greeted regularly, throughout the entire course, by ad hoc cheerleaders or high school cheerleaders or belly dancers or musicians - including a harpist. One guy showed up four times to holler at us to "go on" & "we were looking great." I bring this up because Jason has mentioned that his marathons were quite different, no water support - no bathrooms, for the slow runners - and for comparison purposes.
Water support was plentiful, but not overwhelming. I could tell when I was heading toward one by the sound of cups hitting the ground. Lines of polite high school children and their parents held out cups of water, which were gulped down and discarded. The sound of that, cups hitting the ground, water spilling out, magnified by roughly one hundred people at a time is a fairly impressive sound. I tried to get water at each station.

The riverfront parkway gave way to the industrial area of Portland. We ran on NW Front, toward the oil refinery & then turned back. On the drive Jason and I took the day before, I had thought the area cool & bleak. By the time I ran this portion of the race it was wholly populated, runners heading out to the refinery, runners heading back into the neighborhoods. Toss in the aid stations, the people waiting to wave to their loved ones, the bands, the musicians, etc. and you have quite the party. At this time, I turned to get reassurance that I wasn't the last person running.

So, that's about 9 miles in & we're cruisin' into a neighborhood. From the days drive before, I had planted seeds of stories to get through the parts of the race from here out. The neighborhood was the forest - because the streetside trees preceded the yard lined with shrubs. On race day, I ran by some kids playing music on their toys (with the same enthusiasm as the professionals) and their mom and another woman. They were in lawnchairs on the side of the road, in the shade. They were cheering. And one of them was eating waffles. I pointed to her plate and said that waffles were a very nice touch - you know, to encourage the runners along. I mean, if you run a marathon, that's the only consistent thing I've heard and it's true: you get to eat crazy carbs before you run insane distances. This is the plus side.

The story idea led to me running onto the sidewalk and snagging a bunch of rosemary from a line of bushes along the street. I felt completely refreshed by that scent & passed along a bit to another runner who asked "what's this for?". I answered "it's for smelling". He smelled it and seemed to be relieved, saying "oh, that's wonderful". We hit a downhill and I ran on, holding on to the remaining rosemary. I handed the rest over to a volunteer who was cleaning gummi bears off the road & handing out mints.

We went downhill for a while & then it was mile 13! Halfway there. They only had a cardboard sign up for the halfway point, vs. the kids sitting in lawnchairs at every mile, using megaphones to call out our time as we pass. I kept thinking that 17 miles would be the halfway point - mainly because I was trying to keep my mind off of how many miles I had left to run. So, I wanted mile 13 to be mile 17. Mile 17 is where the St. John Bridge started and if I made it by 12:30, I would be able to run across it.

The miles between these two, 13 & 17, were kind of a pain in the ass - because this is where the walkers flooded past me and my "running form" and "pacing" didn't seem to be getting me anywhere. I had spent the bulk of the race to this time in the upper reaches of aerobic exercise for me - according to my handy bpm calculating watch. My heart was working harder & harder, the more I ran & I had to slow down to keep within the range that I worked with a marathon trainer to establish. Doing that, slowing down to keep my heart rate in a useful place, meant that the walkers would be able to get by me pretty easily. You know, which stung.

Heading up mile 17, a couple ahead of me stopped to take pictures of "Check point Charlie" where only marathon runners could proceed and where non-bib wearer's were kicked off the course. The sign was in English and Russian & the guy had a note pinned to the back of his hat that said "tourist class". I think I ran by them.

I got onto the bridge & some folks around me stopped to stretch, look over the edge and one woman - encouraged us all to spit into the Willamette below. I went to the side and looked over & felt that it was a bit high up for me, although it looked very interesting. I was situated over a construction site, the river was to the far right. I started running again, looking into Portland to the right and away from the city into a beautiful, urban river valley on the left.

Crowds were formed at the end of the bridge, jazz musicians played. We ran through University Park on Willamette. Mile 19 was around here & I mainly remember it getting hotter & me trying harder to drink water, eat - run. Jason mentioned on our drive the day before that this was where the marathon felt the most punishing.

Which reminds me... After the "forest" metaphor, I had a section called "the hands of God" and then "the place where God releases me to express free will" and then a whole thing about the river Styx & charm. I had charted the run down the Willamette as the vision quest part & so that fit in with the difficulty of continuing. I've never read more have I heard of a vision quest that didn't challenge someone with something they could conceivably walk away from, to their detriment. It was hard to keep going.

I spoke with two women who mentioned that we didn't have long to make the next 3 miles. They were concerned because the course was changing at that spot, for runners who made it after 1pm. The race course we had mapped included this 3 mile drop toward the end, something that would be an immense relief to run, even toward the end.

Some folks had hoses out to sprinkle runners with, guys in straw hats and striped shirts sang, we kept running. And running. I had forgotten how very far along the race that 3 mile drop is. It's very far along, so I'll just skip ahead a bit.

I'm running, it's after mile 21 and a woman comes up yelling that if we can run faster - we'll make the cut off for the original route, while the remaining couple hundred walkers would be another route. I run as fast as I can and am the last, as a guy closes the sawhorses to seal off the road. I'm being followed by a police car.

This is a great thing to have happen, or felt that way to me. The last in! I turn the corner and a guy yells to make sure I have enough water & sugar and reminds me it's 5 miles to the finish line. Seriously good news. I start thinking it would be petty to quit now.

We run and run downhill. I pass people who return the favor periodically. The parkway gives way to ramps and bridges - traffic follows and sometimes precedes us toward the end. We get onto the sidewalk around mile 24. The groups have thinned, we spread out, my companion police officer is swapped out by a motorcycle cop and then another patrol car.

The last bit before the mile or so to the finish line is over the Steel Bridge. It's pretty and the water below is populated with folks zipping along for fun & reminding me of Seattle. I'm doing little prayers of gratitude and then it's so almost over.

We run by the Saturday Market. Then back under the damp bridge, along the water. Then into a cordoned area, with folks crowded against two sets of chain link fencing. We're there & I start picking up the pace. I hear Jason hollering for me & look over. He's pointing to the finish line. There was music blaring and the sound of crowds reverberation off of buildings and I've run 26.2 miles and I get to call that good.

I turned the corner and was triaged through the end of the race: chip-off, space blanket-check, marathon pin-check, marathon finisher shirt-check. Jason asked if I could walk the six blocks up to the car, which I said yes to. I felt pretty craggy.

We headed home soon after. I loaded up with aspirin, water, powerade, frozen peas (for my knees), water, a roast beef sandwich and coffee. Jason has some pictures from the marathon, but hasn't had time to download them yet.

That's about it for the race. Tonight Jason's at Wm. Parker, it's Earshot season again, so he's doing some pre-production for them. Which is so great. Me, I have laundry to catch up on and filing to do. Which means movies. I've seen Easy Rider (harsh, dude), 50 First Dates (cute), Before Sunrise (couldn't watch that one), and for tonight - Shipping News and Ulee's Gold.

As for art: I finished the 27 pieces, but bought the wrong frame for the 11X14.