Wicked Pissah Fast - Brian's 2010 Boston Marathon Epic

The bucket list. Not just a sappy movie, people definitely have them. The things they want to do and goals they want to accomplish before they leave the earth. Qualifying for and racing Boston was very high up on my list. So after qualifying in December of 2008, I knew that the next 16 months of running were all leading up to the 2010 Boston Marathon. This training cycle was my hardest on record. Running 6 days/week for 18 weeks was a level of training I'd never seen before, even in high school. But I knew deep down that I wanted to put an effort level into this race that I'd never done before. It meant a lot to me to do well in Boston. So... here's the story broken into three parts: Pre-race, the race itself and my post-race thoughts. Enjoy one part or the whole thing. I know I did!

Brian

Before the story starts though I have one thing to add. Becca and Kai are the most amazing family I could ever hope for. Their support and Becca's understanding and sacrifice over the past 18 weeks were THE reason I had such a great race and Boston experience. Having someone who understands or at the very least supports my long distance running habit is immeasurable.

Pre-Race

5am Friday comes awfully early. Why are we up this early again? Oh right, it’s either this or a ticket that costs us another $300/each. Hmm. Becca's brother picks us up and off we head to the airport. Jon half-jokes that he refuses to touch my race bag (which I was taking as a carry on like any good paranoid athlete would do) for fear of one of my shoes randomly flying out and making a break for it. A relatively painless flight to Long Beach (the only downfall of taking Jet Blue is having to route about 1500 miles out of the way) delivers us into a sea of what Becca describes as "really fit looking people." Jet Blue was nice enough to have a 90 minute delay, ensuring that we had plenty of time to discuss the question of the day: is it bad karma to be wearing a 2010 Boston jacket before the race? There were plenty of runners already sporting them in the airport. While I appreciated people's pre-race enthusiasm I'm definitely in the "bad karma" camp. No need to temp fate three days before the race.

Our delay got us into Boston about 8pm local time. My college friend Lara picked us up and showed off the awesome Boston driving skills she's picked up over the last 12 years. We settled into her place in Newton, ordered Chinese takeout (including the awesomely named Mystery Sauce Chicken) and made it a short night. After dinner I got the following fortune: "Even the toughest of days have bright spots, just do your best". What does that mean? Is this a good sign or a prophecy of things to come?

Saturday brings the Marathon Expo. We quickly picked up my race number and moved to the more important stuff: the adidas schwag area. Using Kai's stroller as a battering ram within the crowds (without Kai in it of course) I ended up picking one of the previously mentioned jackets, a sweatshirt and a running shirt before the crowds became too much and Becca got me to checkout before I could do any more damage. The rest of the expo was pretty low key for me as I'm a running luddite and don't get too excited about the latest energy bars, drinks, horse tranquilizers, blood doping etc. The two expo highlights though were a Bill Rodgers sighting (he was signing autographs for Runner’s World) and getting to watch the video of the last half of the course. As I soaked in Newton Hills and the last five miles, it really hit me that I was here and ready for this. I have to admit the room might have gotten a little dusty for me as it moved towards Boylston Street and the finish. Definitely time to exit stage right.

The rest of the pre-race weekend was pretty low key. Due to wet weather, instead of hiking around Boston on Saturday we drove up to Marblehead and enjoyed the shore. In the end this was likely the best strategy as I still got some tourist activities in without being on my feet too much. Sunday meant sleeping in, picking up some sweet sweats at the second hand shop for race day, hitting the grocery store to get my pre-race meal of peanut butter and matzoh and driving part of the course. Starting at Wellesley we drove miles 12-23, including Cleveland Circle from where you see the famous CITGO sign for the first time. Since my original understanding was that you could see it 4 miles away on Heartbreak my thought was "that's not TOO bad!" I guess it’s all about perspective and expectations.

Race Day

For many, Boston is the culmination of years of hard work and putting everything together for a great qualifying time. This combined with the timing of the race (training during winter can be hard depending on locale) and the hard course can lead to many people just running the race for the experience. When I got into Boston, my original goal was to requalify. Then as I rounded into shape to start training, the target moved to running under 3 hours. As training went progressively better and better, I set myself one final summa cum laude from Harvard goal: 2:55. Becca and a few other people were the only ones who knew about this and for good reason. To meet it I’d need to run 6:40/mile for 26.2 miles. A tall order.

These goals and expectations were the last thing I was thinking of with the alarm went off at 5am. 5am is WAY too early for this reformed night owl though I did take a moment to appreciate Boston’s later than usual 10am start time. At CIM in 2008 I was already on a bus to Folsom by 5am. After a good luck kiss from Becca, Lara drove me down to Cambridge to pick up Duke’s Bus. During this time I soaked in the beautiful morning and watched the crew teams work their way up and down the Charles. For anyone who has the chance to run Boston, Duke’s Bus is an awesome bus service provided by the Cambridge Sports Union. They deliver you to Hopkinton and stick around until race time ensuring you of two very important things: cover from the elements and a bathroom.

I ran into fellow Portland and Red Lizard Louis at the bus drop off and we hopped on and headed towards Hopkinton. It was really cool to see the wall of buses on the interstate, all delivering a group of very focused runners towards the beginning of something bigger than all of them. The pre-race time ended up being pretty low key. I left the bus once to check out the athlete’s village. I got as far as the entrance, saw that it looked like a cross between a refugee camp and a outdoor concert and decided to retreat to the bus to relax. Of course, the one drawback of having the bathroom on the bus is that there is only one of them. So with 30 minutes before the race and at least ¾ of a mile between me and the start, I found myself using the “I’m in Wave 1!” card to sneak to the front of the line for one final pit stop. I tried to run from there to the start but the masses were just too much. It was really impressive to see approx. 25,000 runners walk through this little town of 15,000 towards whatever fate had in store.

With a bib number in the 3000s, I was guaranteed a corral fairly close to the start (close enough to hear the starter’s pistol but not close enough to see the elites. It was a very cool moment to hear them list the vets that live in Hopkinton followed my two jets doing a flyby of the start. With that and a shot of the starter’s pistol, we were off!

5k: 0:20:58

Everyone I’d talked to warned me to take it easy for the first mile as it includes the steepest downhill of the course. In fact most people had told me to really stay reserved for the first 16 miles and start cranking up the effort level in the hills. It was not hard to take it easy; there was way too much people watching to be had over the first 5k as I settled into a solid effort without going out control. There was my favorite sign on the course: “Real Gingers run Marathons.” There was the Boy Scoutmaster running in full uniform (though thankfully for him in running shoes and not boots). As a former Eagle Scout myself I came up, introduced myself gave him a quick fist bump and headed off. Then there were the “Beer Me” guys. Wearing matching shirts, I watched them stay true to their word when the motorcycle posse @ mile two offered them beers. I’m assuming they made it to the finish but would have love to seen their BAC at Boylston.

10k: 0:20:49
15k: 0:20:46

Miles 3-9 just seemed to be a blur. Ashland, Framingham and Natick all passed by with nothing terribly of note. I chuck my favorite running gloves @ mile 6 because it's already getting warmer than I like it. At that point, I wonder how much money gets burned in clothing chucked at the start line and throughout the course. On a positive note some little kid in Framingham just scored some sweet Asics gloves.

During this time, I’m also starting to notice that there are really no flat areas on this course. It’s all up or down and actually many more uphills than advertised. The good news is my body still feels good and relaxed as I start to get closer and closer to Wellesley and the half way mark.

20k: 0:20:48
Half (21.1k): 1:27:50

As I mentioned previously, I’ve been warned that it's all about the 2nd half of the race. As a result, I’m just trying to enjoy the festive atmosphere of the race in the first half as much as possible. This cumulates in my visit to Wellesley. The women of Wellesley are known for two things on marathon day: the scream tunnel they create that you can either on either side for a long ways and their signs that say “kiss me.” As I approach Wellesley I decide I can use all the good luck I can get on the day, run up along the fence and plant a quick peck on the cheek to one of the ladies. This leads to a huge uproar in my immediate area and sends me off like a rocket towards the halfway mark. I hit the half feeling strong and within 20 seconds of the summa cum laude goal.

25k: 0:20:48

I spend the next three miles just preparing for the start of the famed Newton hills. These four hills come in miles 16-21. Each one on it’s face isn’t a killer but put the four together and they’re famous for a reason. For me, I think the first one might be the worst because you've just come off the second steepest downhill of the course and it's so friggin' long. It was at this point that I realized that my hill work might not have been the most appropriate for the course.

But before the gory part of the course, two funny barefoot stories. The first was about 4-5 miles in when as a barefoot runner was passing by, a young spectator suddenly blurts, "he's running and he doesn't have any shoes on! Did he forget his shoes?" This led to laughter by everyone in our little running blob of 20 at that point. The second was at the mile 16 or 17 aid station. Another barefoot runner was coming through the aid station at the same time as some of us and one of the volunteers, in her best Bahston accent yelled at us "watch out for him, he doesn't have any shoes on!" Can't decide if she thought his feet were WMDs or whether she was keeping us mean, shoe wearing runners from doing any damage on him.

30k: 0:21:22

At about mile 18, with two of the Newton hills behind me, my quads have joined the party. They start to feel like ground beef put into a blender. I think to myself “I could have sworn I took it easy on the first half of the course. What the hell?” I start channeling Ryan Hall and glance at my watch occasionally to make sure I'm still close to being on pace. At mile 18, I also start trending heavily left to make sure I don't miss my posse and aid station (my friend Erin from NY had done up signs and balloons and Becca, Kai and Lara were planning on seeing me there and handing some extra supplies to me). While I'm doing that, I have a long legged man name Ron come up to me and start quizzing me about the Lizards (turns out he's from CA and had met a few @ the CIM race I qualified at). We then have the following conversation:

Ron: "Do you know Louis?"
Me (huffing and puffing): "Yes"
Ron: "Just passed him walking about a mile back. Said he was cramping."
Me: “Really? Crap!”

At this point I A) Feel horrible for Louis and hope he's putting it back together on the course (I eventually found out he had Achilles problems and had to drop out) and B) suddenly get very worried about my own survival skills as Louis is in a LOT better shape than me...

Mile 19: After much meandering along the left side of the course I finally hit “Davis Square” @ the famed Johnny Kelly statue. I see Becca with Kai strapped in and make a beeline for her. With my “business face” on, I proceed to do the following:

1) Chuck the Gu I’d picked up at mile 17 (why did I carry this thing for two miles when I had no intention of actually consuming it? Damn it!) into the crowd. Evidently though I chucked it right at Lara’s friends. Oops!

2) Grabbing the Gatorade and Mojo Bar from Becca without so much as eye contact. I disputed this later on but the photographic evidence was damming. This on its face wasn’t horrible but when coupled with my later story of giving the Wellesley girls a kiss? Well, let’s just say I’m lucky I have a very understanding wife ☺

3) Becca had been nice enough to hand me a banana as well for fear of me cramping late in the race. What was my reaction? A look of utter confusion followed by me chucking the banana onto the road about 20m down the road.

So despite all that drama, it was really nice to see familiar faces even if just for a few seconds. I was really starting to hurt going into the last two Newton hills and it showed. I really didn’t have any extra drive at this point. Despite grabbing fluids at every water stop during the race, I was still starting to feel a little off. As a result I held onto my bottle for most of the next two miles, despite my hatred for carrying things while I run, eventually finishing it off. While my watch showed that I was starting to slip off my overall goal pace it did end up feeling like I was gaining ground on people but also having people pass me as well. Suddenly my hill training seems inconsequential as I'm just slogging up the third of the Newton Hills at whatever pace my body is willing to do.

35k: 0:21:19

As I hit the top of the famed Heartbreak Hill I catch a break of sorts. I am suddenly by myself with a short stocky runner in front of me. As we reach BC, I quickly figure out he's got a Boston College singlet on leading to an insane level of cheers by the drunken BC faithful. I somehow gain strength not from the crowds cheering, but from imagining myself as being the "heel" whose job is to ruin the hometown boy's day by defeating him on the homestretch of Boston. I’d like to say that the shift to downhill running was a welcome respite but at that point my legs just wanted a flat piece of land. And my mind wanted a good stiff drink.

Miles 22-24 become very interesting. I stop looking at my watch so much I realize I’m going as fast as my body will let me. I feel like I'm making up ground but also feel my quads punish my on every foot strike. At this point I hit the mental wall: I'm no longer caring about what pace I'm running or who I'm keeping up with/passing/getting passed by. A large chunk of the course at this point turns into a blur only brought into clarity by mile markers and aid stations. I remember crossing the tracks near Cleveland Circle only because my friend Lara had warned me the day before that many a person had been their victim during the race. I then see the Citgo sign and in a complete turnaround from Sunday, I look at it thinking, "I still have THAT far to go?" I hit Kenmore Square remembering my friend Lincoln’s advice to soak in the crowd but not remembering a damn thing other than finally passing the taunting piece of Boston skyline that is the Citgo sign.

40k: 0:21:05
42.2k: 2:57:26

Everything is anything at this point (ok, I have no idea what I meant when I wrote this originally but for some reason it works). I'm focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and hoping I don't randomly cramp up or crash or do something equally idiotic. The dip under Mass Ave feels like climbing Everest. Once I turn onto Boylston, I actually hit my watch @ 26.2 so see how close I really was to my original pace goal (2:55:33 so just over a second a mile off) My official marathon ends up being 26.5 miles, most of which I tacked on in the last 10 miles of the race. After hitting my watch I look up for the first time to see the finish. It's strangely soothing to see it so close yet still a ways away. It's then that the whole thing has hit me; I'm finishing the race I've always wanted to run and I'm doing it in record (for me at least) time. I take off my hat (which I never do while running), start pumping my arms and have this idiot grin on my face as I cross the finish line. I've done it. I've finished Boston. Hell, I’ve PR’d at Boston.

Finish area:

The finish area is so damn long. I guess it's a good way to keep people on their feet and moving. About 50m after the finish I help a volunteer get someone to the medical tent as I guess with two semi-functional legs I qualify as extra help. I watch another person go down ahead of me like they've been shot and be immediately taken care of by the crack medical staff. Get the mylar blanket (btw, a nice touch having the people tape it together), get the medal, get the lunch and go to get my bag. During this process I continue to move along though I stop every 50m as well. No physical problems, just overcome by the emotion of the moment. I keep starting to cry, then hold it back, compose myself and move ahead.

After it taking 10-15 minutes for the volunteer to find my bag, I take advantage of the awesome Boston infrastructure to get a massage. I somehow enjoy the cruel irony of having to walk down two flights of stairs to get into the massage/chiro area. From there I head to the University Club (many thanks to Len!), catch up with Len/Dan/Sarah/Clover and then head to the Gardens to meet Becca & Kai, where we find out Kai is scared of metal ducks... After a little bit of touristing around the Gardens, we hit the Green Dragon bar for Guinness & fried food. Seems like a fitting start to the post-race recovery process!

Final Results

2:57:26
6:46/mile
PR of 7:28

1021/22645 Overall
957/13112 Men's
737/4656 18-39 AG
16th ranked Oregonian
Half Splits: 1:27:50/1:29:36

Post Race Thoughts

Boston is quite simply an amazing race. I'm not quite sure how quickly I'm going to be able to get back but I'm hell bent on doing so. The crowds just fire you up, even if your brain can't process them the last few miles. They are 4-5 people deep in the early miles, ebb and flow for a while, get loud again @ Wellesley and then after that it's just a solid wall of people topped off with the chaos from Kenmore Square to the finish. To run a personal best on one of the most famous marathon courses in the world surpassed any performance goal I had. However, if the day had gone less well time wise I still would have been happy having the experience of running that course with that crowd.

The most deceptive part of the course itself is the lack of any consistent flat parts in the race. I trained for the hills but I don't think I realized that you spend almost the entire time moving up or down (or at least that's how it felt to me). This led to...

My hitting the wall psychologically for the first time in a race. Any time I had struggles in previous races, it was always physical and I usually got through it with my stubborn demeanor. However Boston, whether it was the course, the crowds or the occasion took more out of me mentally than any other race. I really didn't realize how much so until I hit those last few miles and stopped looking at my watch, had my game plan mentally float out of my head and contemplated walking at one point. Over the last three miles I just have these brief memories of the race and most of that has to do with the course itself, not the crowds at Kenmore or along Boylston. Regrettable in some ways but also tells me I pushed myself to another level and points to things to work on in future Boston races.

It was awesome to see the blue jackets swarm the town after the race. And even those who weren't wearing jackets wore their badge of honor (the non-functioning quads) with pride. Though I did feel bad for the guy on our Fenway tour the day after who at 6'4" realized he was going to try to be wedging himself into the old school seats at that night's game.

A post race recovery snack of Dunkin Donuts has never tasted so good. :-)

I tend to be a fairly self-critical person. Becca and I were talking on our flight back to Portland and given her knowledge of summa cum laude goal of 2:55, she asked "are you proud of your performance? Because you should be..." And for the first time since the birth of Kai, with no reservations the answer was yes. I was happy with my experience with no reservations. The way it should be I know but for me that short conversation really drove the whole experience home for me.

A final note: I was really amazed by the pride the city's citizens take in the event. I have had friends who have lived in Boston and watched the marathon and heard their stories but I lost count the number of times I had a random Bostonian stop me on Monday/Tuesday to either congratulate me or ask me how I did. This also included this awesome exchange at one of the downtown T stations:

T ticket guy: "So what did you run?"
Me: "2:57"
Random disheveled older man who scared the crap out of the family by appearing out of nowhere: "Do you know that's four times the normal speed of humans? You're wicked pissah fast!"
Me: "Thanks?"

On that note, thank you Boston. I’ll be back.

California International Recap

My marathon experience is coming in two parts: the first is race day itself and the second is the long and winding road I took to get there. CIM Pictures for those interested.

Part I now; Part II hopefully sometime around the New Year.
BD

Part I

Through 18 weeks of training, I was very regimented in my miles, how I ran them, when I ran them etc. Structure was my middle name. However leading up to race day, I had what could best be charitably described as a "framework" of a strategy going into the race. My training left me confident that I could qualify for Boston but with no idea as to how fast I could go without crashing late in the race. As a result, I came up with the following plan:

1. Take the first 10 comfortably, preferably between 7-7:15/mi (thereby "banking time" towards a BQ).
2. Keep a strong tempo throughout the next 10, hopefully right around the pace established in the first 10 miles.
3. Empty the tank in the last 10k.

I wasn't completely sure what these parts would consist of time-wise but knew it would likely land somewhere between 7-7:15 pace. At least that was the hope going into race day itself.

Before that, I had to get to lovely California. I flew down Friday night and stayed with a friend of mine from college, her boyfriend and their two year old daughter. They always tell you to get the best night sleep two nights before the race. I decided to put that to the test via a two year old, a brand new aero bed and three cats. Saturday brought a few realizations: their daughter sleeps really well, cats can be fended off via squirt gun and I'm a bit neurotic in the days leading up to a race. After a leisurely morning and a great Mexican lunch, they took me to my hotel. I hit the lottery of hotel rooms; evidently I'd been upgraded to a suite, complete with HD TV, fridge, etc. Perfect for my plan on laying low and getting a good final night's sleep. The 4:15 wakeup call was going to come way too soon.

My only trip out on the town was to swing by the race expo, confirm my transportation options and grab a bite to eat for dinner. Since I was flying solo at this point, I really didn't feel like waiting for a table and eating a meal out with crowds of people. As a result, I stopped into a local deli and picked up a turkey sandwich for dinner. Not quite a bowl of pre-race pasta but I was fairly harmless and would do. As I made my way back to my room I had the following exchange in the elevator:

Very Fast looking Female Marathoner (VFFM): Is that your pre-race meal?
Me: Yep.
VFFM: What are you having?
Me: Turkey Sandwich.
VFFM: (incredulous look) Is that your normal pre-race meal?
Me: I don't really have a NORMAL meal per se. How about you?
VFFM: Pasta feed with my team. Gotta carb up you know!

Yes, that was the extent of the conversation. But nothing like having someone question your culinary choices 12 hours before you're running a race. Thanks for the support! :)

After a restless night, race day was here. A 4:15 wakeup call was met with me awaking at 4:14 and quickly answering the phone. I got dressed, had my peanut butter and matzoh (pre race meals of HMOTs everywhere) bundled up and headed downstairs. I must have been one of the last people to show up downstairs; that didn't stop me from running into the lady from the night before who asked "how's the turkey sandwich treating you?" Just fine thank you! With that bit of inspiration I was on the bus and headed towards Folsom and the starting line.

The weather on race morning was pretty ideal. Overcast skies and cooler temps made body temperature regulation a given. As a Johnny Cash fan, it was a nice bonus to be standing in the line at the port-a-potties, look up and realize I was looking at Folsom Prison. I got warmed up, had a last bit of gatorade, stretched and was ready to go. However, with this only being my second marathon (the other being 2004 Twin Cities), I once again made the mistake of waiting too late to ditch my clothes and get into the crowd. Subsequently I was stuck around the 3:50 pace group; an improvement of being back with the 4:30 group 4 years ago but still not ideal.

From there though things went surprisingly to plan. I ran comfortably, taking the uphills with equal effort over the first 10 and came through at a 7:04 pace. At about 3 miles I'd caught up to and passed the 3:10 pace group. For a split second I thought about just running with them and then decided that I felt comfortable at my current pace and was better suited to just keep the rhythm I had going. With that feeling pretty good I just kept trucking around that pace for the next 10 (I was only 14 seconds slower over the 2nd 10 miles).

Unlike my training runs (where I was notorious for not carrying water and scrambling for it whenever I could) I took on quite a bit of fluid; in fact for the majority of the race I felt a bit bloated as I'd drank a decent amount before the race itself. (the 19 water stops were definitely helpful as I could just take a cup a stop and not have to power walk/slow down to grab water knowing the next one was just around the corner) However by 20 I was starting to feel a bit "normal" again physically. The most notable part of the race through 20 was the man in his 50s who was doing what could only be charitably described as a "white man dance" to "Whoomp, There It Is" right at Mile 20. Disturbing and not what one needs when one might be trying to confirm the lack of hallucinations to that point!

The last 10k was a great challenge. In large part due to the one 24 mile run I'd done with a local group of runners who were shooting for sub 3:00, I wasn't worried about the mental aspects of the distance, I was more worried about whether I'd physically hold up. Instead I was able to ratchet up my pace 5-10 sec a mile over the last 10k. This included a final burst in the last mile created by someone walking across the street in front of me with their Schitzu, causing me to swerve, let off an internal wtf! and run just that little bit harder. It was a great feeling though in the last 10k to keep doing the math as I got closer and closer as to what the slowest time I could run to still get in under 3:10. When I hit 24 or 25 (can't remember which) and realized I could walk in, it really started to feel real. Finally, with the 0.2 to go I looked at my watch and realized I had a chance to break 3:05 so let it fly down the homestretch @6:19 pace to get in 6 seconds under the wire. I was able to negative split the race (in large part due to the advice gained from the Louis, Bill, Tim & Steve, the sub 3:00 guys I ran with) by almost 2 minutes (1:33:25-1:31:29).

Qualifying for Boston has been one of those life goals of mine so to achieve it feels really, really good. I can't wait to run Boston in 2010 and fulfill the other half of that goal. I told Becca that I split my motivations for the race into three parts: I spent the first 10 thinking about the baby to be, the next 10 thinking about her and the final 10k was a challenge/gift to myself for the ups and downs for the past two years. However at the end of the day, Becca was at the top of my mind the entire race. She has given me the support I needed to make this happen. I'm sure she's looking forward to having me back around the house a little more and to finally get working on that nursery that we're going to need by late March.

For the race geeks, below are my splits. As Becca said, I could always audition to be a metronome at some point :)

Brian

My splits:

Here's the short version:

Final Chip Time: 3:04:54
1st Half: 1:33:25
2nd Half: 1:31:29

Place: 321/5189

The down and dirty data:

1-7:23
2-7:04
3-6:56
4-6:53
5-6:59
6-6:57
7-7:04
8-7:02
9-7:10
10-7:01
11-7:04
12-7:07
13-7:03
14-7:00
15-7:04
16-7:08
17-6:57
18-7:08
19-7:04
20-7:08
21-6:59
22-6:59
23-6:52
24-6:56
25-6:58
26-6:57
0.2-6:19 pace for last 0.2 (or by garmin's estimation 0.33... doh!)

Peaking at just the right time

Back to writing. Hoping to have a lot more time to write as a lot of things in my life reach a peak.

First and foremost, my MBA education is two classes and one final away from its conclusion. This past Monday I (hopefully) successfully presented and defended my final project. As Becca can attest, this project took up an inordinate amount of time over the past 14 weeks but 41 pages, 20 PowerPoint slides and a 15 minute presentation later, my primary research on customer satisfaction for a local Portland firm is complete and if do say so myself, not half bad. I'm not the greatest public speaker by any stretch of the imagination but my final presentation was one of the first times I've felt truly comfortable up speaking in front of a group. Heck, I even transitioned to the wrong slide and was comfortable enough to quickly shift the topic, address the "new" slide and continue to move right along (the issue with shifting the order the day before the final presentation). I can definitely point towards this as one of the things that my MBA program has helped me the most with. Doing group projects and having to get up in front of people to present findings has definitely helped me become more comfortable with speaking outside of my more comfortable areas of 1-1 or small groups.

I'll likely have more to reflect on once I'm done with the program but getting my MBA has been a bit of a mixed bag. My classmates have been great; while some have put a greater effort than others into the program everyone is there to learn and when push comes to shove are willing to put in the time and effort to be successful. Now the amount of time or effort largely depends on how challenging our professors are. With Willamette's Portland program being a relatively new program, teaching quality has been a bit of a mixed bag. As a result, unless properly challenged the class as a whole tended to step up (or down) to the quality of professor. Additionally, with the program being new our class have had to deal with the program not always being well organized from certain perspectives. For example, as a student I should not have to be proactively asking for information regarding our final project in the weeks before we're supposed to start.

There's a part of me that wishes I'd tried to apply to the upper echelon business schools. But life is about choices; Becca and I had made ours to live in Portland and haven't regretted it one bit. With a new nephew here, another on the way plus our own baby 16 weeks away from joining us we're very happy to be here and within spitting distance of the family. And the program has allowed me to learn quite a bit, challenge myself in places, learn across a number of fields what constitutes good customer service, meet some very great people who I plan on staying in touch with and potentially even help me come up with a business idea or two. So with a slight tinge of what could have been, I finish my MBA program this Tuesday. Exciting stuff.

With one major mental milestone comes an accompanying physical one. I leave in about 7 hours to fly down to Sacramento and run the California International Marathon. Late in the summer during my effort to get in shape for Hood to Coast, I decided that now was as good a time as any to train for a marathon. Unlike my effort in the 2004 Twin Cities Marathon, my goal this time is not simply to finish. My primary goal is to qualify for the Boston Marathon (since I'd be running it in 2010, my qualifying time is 3:15). My 20 mile training runs have been around this pace so I feel good about my chances of hitting this number. However, come race day it can be a completely different story. With a net downhill course however, I wouldn't be surprised if I make it well under the 3:15 number. For now I get to settle for being edgy physically due my tapering my mileage, neurotically mentally as i check and recheck my packing list and just generally ready to be done so I can start drinking beer and eating fried foods again.

The one constant through all of this? The support of Becca. She's been my absolute rock providing me everything from in depth counsel on my MBA work to chocolate milk and bagels after my Sunday long runs. Come Wednesday morning, I'm all hers again. And sweetie? I promise to start working on the nursery on Wednesday :)

Off to go catch a flight and run fast. More from the other side.

BD

2008 ORRC 15k Champion!

Well... for the 30-34 age group that is.

In an effort to make my marathon training more interesting than just running down empty roads by myself, I decided to sign up for the ORRC 15k Championships out in scenic Blue Lake Park. The last time I was at the park in any capacity was watching my HS cross country career end on bittersweet note as I floundered the last mile and helped my team end up one place short of making state. I returned older, wiser and with a refined competitive streak and a definite desire to avoid "short" races like the 5k on offer. The plan was to run 15k (9.3m) @ something slightly faster than my marathon pace. So "comfortable fast" as it were.

The race was smaller in size so I got to start near the front (I tend to like to start towards the back of the group of people I should be running with so I can pick more people off :)). I took off in what felt like a comfortable pace, only to find myself... with no one in front of me. The following thoughts went through my head:

Good Brian: "Where is everyone?"
Bad Brian: "Behind you stupid."
GB: "But why? I'm not running THAT fast. <check watch> Ok, maybe I'm off to a faster start than I need to be. Time to reel it in a bit."
BB: "Do you feel like crap? No! Just keep going. You'll be fine."
GB: "But this is supposed to be a TRAINING run. You know the kind that DOESN'T kill me?"
BB: "Oi! Someone's about to pass you. Less talk, more running."

Someone did eventually pass me. But not until I had to play "guess the turn" a few times on the less than well marked course. After a quick discussion (where he admitted he signed up as Mike Ditka) made him realize I had no intentions of running with him (I mean really, who's going mano a mano with Ditka? Mini-Ditka maybe...), he was off and eventually won the race by over 2 min. I can safely say though that is the only time in my entire running career that I've led a race at the start.

So Ditka was off to the races, leaving three of us to run together for the next 8 miles. Brief discussions were had, especially since I was the only one with a watch giving us accurate splits. Well that and we were all discussing our ages, scouting out whether we had to compete against anyone else in our age group. Of course, one of the guys in the pack was my age. It really helped to have other people pushing me but I continued to beat down the BB by just staying at one pace the entire time. The two other runners ebbed and flowed, but I just moved along like a metronome. Tick, tock.

With about a mile to go, the survival pack finally broke up and the fun started. I stayed with the guy who made a break for it but just couldn't get my body to move much further. Tick, tock. But with 100m+ left, BB reemerged:

BB: "C'mon, he's hurting. Make him work!"
GB: "This was supposed to be a TRAINING run, remember? Plus who's not to say that I'm not hurting as well?"
BB: "Pain is mental, suck it up. I mean seriously. What are you, French? (apologies to our french readers in advance)"
GB: "Well, I guess he is kind of close..."
BB: "Come to the dark side."

So I did, kind of. I WARNED the guy with "I'm going to have to make you work" and I took off. Despite trying to cut him off on the last turn and pushing it hard, he was up for the task and held me off by a body length. I looked up and the time told me all I needed to know: 58:11. So what started out as a training run turned into a 15k, 10k and 5 mile personal record (PR).

My reward? A sweet blue ribbon which reminded me of Becca's horse ribbons she refuses to get rid of and the knowledge that my training for my marathon must be going better than I thought. Unfortunately Bad Brian's antics will likely have me paying a pretty significant price during my 19 mile long run tomorrow. Guess I'll just have to think about the blue ribbon then :)

(Update: so the picture of me sucked, but the results are up. As it shows, Mike Ditka did win the race)

BD

And they're OFF!

Van 1 crew at the finish of last year's race

Matt, Karl (not running this year), Brian, Sarah, Joe, Dave

Brian and his comrades in Slow Code's Van 1 just took off for Timberline Lodge and the start of the 2008 Hood to Coast Relay. Sarah will start running down the hill at the team's official start time of 5:15 pm. And I do mean DOWN the hill. Her leg drops 2000 feet over the course of a little more than 5.5 miles. BRUTAL. In contrast, Brian's first leg (leg 3) drops only 900 feet over 4 miles. (he makes up the distance in his second and third legs, which are 7.25 miles and 6 miles long).



I should see them about 2 or 3 in the morning when they come through exchange 13 which I am in charge of this year. (How I got roped into running an exchange for 14+ hours overnight is a whole other story) and then they should get into Seaside around 5 with the guys in Van 2 finishing the race sometime between 6 and 7 pm on Saturday. In beween they're going to have a blast. Brian may twitter during the race if he decides to be a total geek (so check the sidebar), otherwise we'll share stories sometime next week.

Becca
Entry on last year's race

The frustration of inactivity...

After spending the last year and a half running on average 4x a week, I feel that I'd gotten myself into pretty good shape. A sub 1:30 half-marathon showed me I was in a lot better shape than I thought. My newfound speediness notwithstanding, I've always found exercising as a means of meditation. Not so much in your classic zen/yoga mat style but instead my running has always given me the opportunity to put on my shoes, hit the road and empty my brain of all the excess thoughts that come living in today's internet age. People are always amazed when I mention I don't wear the requisite iPod (though it's a necessity when I bike) when I run. Even running for 2 hours I don't find the need for any more external stimuli that what Mother Nature brings to the table.

When life conspires to keep me from running, I find myself getting progressively grumpier until I'm finally able to go out, run and get it all out. Unfortunately life has been unkind the past five weeks physically. I first picked up what can only be described as some industrial strength crud right at the end of last semester. This laid me out for about two weeks and the coughing got so bad that I even threw out some muscles in my back. If this wasn't enough, I then was running up in Forest Park and was running down a flat trail and had my knee just give out. Unfortunately I had about a half hour of sunlight and 4 miles back to the car. As a result, I had to keep running on the knee and by the end I was struggling quite a bit. After a week or two of having it give out at random times and struggling with some basic functions, I elected to go to the doctor. Despite a number of injuries over the years, this was the first time I'd actually had my knees x-rayed and MRI'd. The good news was they were "pristine" structurally. The bad news is that I picked up a cartlidge tear in a spot in the near where it's very difficult to fix. The initial diagnosis is physical therapy though the first available appointment is over a month from now (and how is this any different than the socialized health care some Americans like to savage?). The best surgical option is microfracture surgery and with images of Greg Oden dancing in my head, I elected to pass. It's a weird injury though; supposedly I can try to run on it but it's not supposed to heal on its own. I'll have to test it out and hope that I get my meditation back.

In the meantime, I've been doing my best to find other ways to find my zen. Going for walks is ok from the physical perspective but I get bored quickly and find myself wishing I did have my iPod. I haven't quite gone to meditation yet though I do find the bus ride to class strangly soothing. Hopefully my body elects to let me back on the road soon. 33 is way too young of an age to have to think up a second act.

Brian

Run Like Hell... Feel Like Hell!

Posing near the starting line
(methinks Brian spent too much time in Asia!)

After running Pints to Pasta with Becca, I got in my mind the idea to run a half marathon. I wasn't really sure on how to properly train for it, so using the power of the Google, I found a training plan, a race and realized I had 6 weeks to train. Thankfully excluding the track intervals, I'd done the work to date. The six weeks went pretty well. The big adjustment was two fold; I moved from running 4x to 5x a week and I spent one of those days doing intervals at the track. The reason I quit running in the first place was because I hated running on the track so much. Thankfully this particular program only had you doing it once every two weeks which was about my limit. Still, I was pleased by the speed and endurance I was showing.

After part of picking up my race packet yesterday, Becca and I decided to drive the course. It being Oregon, it was POURING. As we drove through massive puddles I started to get a bad feeling about the race. The weather was supposed to be more of the same today. Obviously cold, wet weather is not conducive to fast times. Then there was the actual course. 5 flat miles followed by 4 miles of steady climbing, then 3 miles of steep ups and downs and a mile flat at the finish. Not exactly a course built for speed. The more we drove it, the worse it looked.

After completely psyching myself out, we went home, laid low and I took in the Ducks crushing University of Washington as well as the Red Sox forcing a Game 7. Considering this a good double dish of karma, I got to bed nice and early, nervous but excited for race day.

As with most races, I had a few different goals:

C Goal: Finish (always reasonable to have this goal in a race this long)
B Goal: Sub 1:30 (6:52 pace)
A Goal: Anything faster :-)

To successfully meet these goals, I had a plan:

1) Run the first 5 miles comfortably fast and built a time cushion.
2) Run the 4 miles uphill with a goal of minimizing how much time I gave back.
3) Let 'er rip the last four miles and hope I don't burn up.

Line for the porta potties? What line?
Brian shows his canny veteran experience and breaks into a construction site

Race Day started off with a very good thing: stars. Clouds were nonexistent outside of our house, allowing us a clear look at the early morning stars. In short, no rain! We packed up my stuff and headed downtown to the start. I warmed up a bit, kissed Becca good luck and then got into the starting chute. When I start races, I like to get around people that look to be about my speed. I looked around and realized that large packs of chatty women with iPods (no offense to said running subset) were my neighbors, I weaved my way up to a reasonable spot for the start.

With that I was off. I weaved my way though a few people and got into a steady groove. Passed Becca a mile or so in knowing that I'd see her again in a few miles (the race started with a small loop). Mile one was a 6:49 pace. Comfortable and a good start. Hitting mile two, I started to get worried. My watch said it was a 7:12 pace and I couldn't get warm. If I was losing time already and didn't feel right, what was my chance of being able to actually break 1:30? This was a real dilemma for me; I felt blah physically and mentally I was a mess. I even contemplating dropping out (something I NEVER do). I decided to see what my mile 3 time was before making any rash decisions.

Of course, there was no mile 3 marker so I kept going to mile 4. The first words out of Becca's mouth when she saw me were "you're running too fast!". I hit the marker and realized that the mile 2 marker must have been WAY off. Suddenly I was going too fast. With almost 90 seconds in the bank, I elected to relax again and just settle into a good stride.

Speeding towards mile 4
(notice the lack of rain. heavenly.)

The hill portion was a challenge. Most of it was just a steady climb so I focused on keeping a decent pace and keeping up with my fellow runners. Fortunately I was part of a three man pack who was pretty content just working together up the hill, passing a few folks along the way. It made it a much more manageable experience and allowed us to focus on something other than the never ending incline. After the four miles, I still had just over 40 seconds in the bank.

Having this 40 seconds in the tank after the hardest part of the course was like a get out of jail free card. Time to let 'er rip. Of course, the previous three man pack had separated; one was about 30m in front of me and the other one was quickly dropping off the back. So for the next four miles, my place didn't change. I followed a line of three runners that were 30-50m ahead of me down the hill all the way to the finish line. I'd like to think I could have caught at least one of them but I kept running hard and couldn't make up any ground. Of course, when your last two miles (partially downhill) are 5:48 & 5:47, you can't feel too bad about not gaining any ground. I do credit Becca's inspirational "Run Faster!" as proper motivation though when I started to falter a bit with a half mile to go.

Approaching mile 12 looking good and what is the wife yelling?
"Run Faster! Run Faster!"

I gave what little I had left in the tank at the finish line and was shocked: 1:25:07! Needless to say I met my goals with a flourish. (And me being me, I immediately was mad that I hadn't run 8 seconds faster and broken 1:25.) I finished 23rd overall and despite some very tired legs, I actually feel pretty good. Met Becca post-race, warmed down, enjoyed a Winterhook and then headed home. In fact I'm writing this with my feet propped up, a beer close by and taking in a day full of football to be followed by Red Sox/Indians Game 7.

Don't let the pose fool you. Brian actually was pretty bouncy post-race.

So in short: Brian run fast. :-) Becca = superstar wife for putting up with my training and pre-race nerves and Red Sox in 7.

Life is good.

BD

additional notes from the support vehicle and photographer: after driving the course yesterday in the monsoon we were both pretty psyched out about it and worried that the 1:30 goal might not be that realistic. However the vastly improved weather this morning definitely relaxed us a little and Brian seemed in good spirits when I left him at the start and went out to stake out my first cheering location. When I saw him several minutes early at mile 4 I got worried again that he might blow up on the hill, as he was running more aggressive than his pre-race plan had dictated.

The next 40 minutes were filled not with my cheering him at two more spots (as planned) but by me growing increasingly more frustrated as I ran into construction, one-ways, road closures etc in my attempts to get ahead of the race. I finally gave up, extremely despondent, returned to the tail end of the course, and set up at the 12 mile marker. Based on his goal pace I had a pretty good idea of when he might come by, but again was concerned that he'd gone out too fast and would have suffered in the hills. So I was way surprised when he turned the corner and came trucking past me more than 3 minutes ahead of pace. I'm sure the other runners wondered who the crazy lady yelling "Woo-hoo! Run Faster!" was. :-)

This is now two major distance races (the 2004 Twin Cities marathon and 2007 Run Like Hell Half) where Brian has finished and looked fresh and ready for more despite running faster than his goal. I'm impressed and really proud of him. But now I know to look out for his sandbagging...

Running on down the road....

6.2 miles down, where's the beer?

When you live with somebody, you become exposed to new things and learn to share interests. While Brian and I both grew up playing sports, we liked different things. I played soccer and tennis (and later ultimate frisbee), and I would run merely as a means to an end (i.e., only to get in and stay in shape for the activities I actually enjoyed). Brian, on the other hand has always been a distance runner since his high school days.

Since we've been together he's been diligent about getting his miles in, both for exercise's sake and mental health. I've been a little more hit and miss about it. However since we've been back from our trip I've actually been starting to find running if not enjoyable, then at least not unenjoyable. Though I'm running a lot slower than when I was in college (mid-high nines instead of mid eights), I'm running for more miles a week and for longer runs.

Then a few weeks ago Brian competed in the 26th Annual Hood-to-Coast Relay, a 24 hour plus, 197 mile race from halfway up Mt. Hood to the town of Seaside on the coast. I was one of the team volunteers so I got to experience some of the event with him and I was hooked. The team had so much fun and had such a sense of accomplishment for their achievement that I just left really wishing I could be part of it too. Maybe next year. But in the meantime Sarah, the captain of Brian's HTC team, urged us to take part in the Pints to Pasta 10K race (which runs from a brewery to the Old Spaghetti Factory) this weekend.

She said it was one of the more fun 10Ks in the area and would have a lot of the members there from a running club we were thinking of joining. I really wanted to feel challenged and part of something after watching HoodtoCoast so in a rash moment I agreed. Of course, a 10K is 6.2 miles and I hadn't run anything farther than 4 miles or so since we've been back. Over the last two weeks I managed to sneak in a 4.5 and then at last a 5.9 mile run to double check that I could actually run far enough. With a data point of one supporting me, I was good to go.

My goals this morning were threefold, all potentially achieavable but increasing in their "stretch-ness":

1) Finish the 6.2 miles without walking

2) Finish the 6.2 miles under a 10 minute mile pace

3) Finish the 6.2 miles under 1 hour (9:39 pace)

Not only had I not run this far in 10+ years (if ever), but I've only ever run in one another race-like event. I really wasn't sure how to handle the crowds at the start, let alone in the lines for the porta potties! Brian was great though. He was very encouraging and kept telling me he had total confidence in my ability to do it. Then it was time for a quick kiss before he headed to the "fast people" part of the start area and I moved back towards the slow folks part. Before I knew it we were off.

I had a game plan for the run: Keep the 10 min mile pace for the first half, then gradually speed up for for the second. I figured that was my best chance of not blowing up during the course and hitting my goals. However, the race gods had other plans. The first mile was downhill so I knew I'd probably run a little faster. Also, pretty much everybody was running past me so it was really hard for me to get a sense of what pace I was running. When I hit the first mile marker I saw that I'd run it in 9:15. Hmmm. Yeah, not keeping that pace up for 5 more miles....

I managed to get my pace more under control as the race continued and also managed to avoid the train and street car that got in the way of faster runners. (I figured that was just slow runner karma). The race course itself was really nice: down the river bluff, across one of Portland's myriad bridges, and then 3+ miles along the riverfront path infront of downtown. I was doing ok through 4, then tried to speed up some. That didn't work so well, so I slowed down again, then decided to push it again at 5 miles. I was right on a 10 minute mile pace. I thought maybe if I pushed it for the last mile and I might even break an hour. This ended up not feeling so good.

Right about then my dear husband appeared, jogging his cool-down along the route and looking to cheer me on. Usually I appreciate his encouragement, but at this point I was just trying to dig down and finish the damn thing. And besides, I had been telling myself it wasn't much farther at each turn, and he kept giving me realistic distances (which were longer than I'd told myself). At about .4 mile left though I got a little bit of a second wind and got a little bit less grumpy. It was nice to know that he was there supporting me. I was finally able to kick it up a gear the last 200 yards and even ran down a lumbering man. (Brian told me afterwards he was rooting for me to pass the guy but thought it might be a little rude to be yelling at me to do it).

And the result of my very first 10K?

1) I didn't walk

2) I ran at a 9:53 pace

3) I finished in 1 hour, 1 minute, 20 seconds.

All in all, I can accept that. Just think if I had actually trained?!

And what about my chief cheerleader? Well, 6 miles is a walk in the park for him; he does it pretty regularly. So he was thinking more about pace. His goals (considering that he's been feeling off all week):

1) Finish in less than a 7 minute mile pace

2) Finish under 40 minutes (6:27 pace)

His finish: 39 minutes, 29 seconds. Not half bad!

So satisfied and proud we hung out with Sarah and her friends afterwards, and enjoyed a nice post-race breakfast of pasta and beer on beautiful sunny morning. I could maybe get used to this running thing...

Becca

Hood To Coast Report

16 years ago as a HS senior, I ran Hood to Coast, a local relay race that covers 197 miles from Mt. Hood to the town of Seaside on the Oregon coast. It's quite the challenge: most teams take between 22-30 hours to finish and each of the 12 members are responsible for running three legs that each average 5-6 miles during that time span. During my time in Portland post-college I always was busy with ultimate frisbee and never ran the race even though I always had it in the back of my mind. However this summer, with my legs in pretty good shape and itching for some sort of challenge, I decided I wanted to run it again. However one problem persisted: I had no team. Enter the kind folks of Slow Code. I jumped on the Red Lizards message board (the Lizards are a local running club) and posted a want ad with my basic info and desire for a team. Sarah, a physician's assistant at OHSU, emailed me back the same day and told me their team of surgeons and doctors needed an extra set of legs. With my in-race health taken care of, I became a member of the team. Fast forward to last Thursday where our team met in person to have a pasta feed and discuss the details. It was there that I found out that 1) I was the only person who'd run the race before 2) there were a few people who weren't completely aware what they'd gotten into and 3) one of our runners put zero as their 10k time (the times are used to estimate your team's predicted finish), the HtC officials didn't catch it and we were assigned a much faster start time than initially predicted. That being said, everyone seemed nice, laid back and looking forward to the task at hand. Friday came around and I had the nervous energy working. Outside of a 25k race in February that I ran with my friend Mark, I hadn't run a race in years. I've been running all year but most of them have been at similar speeds; I really had no idea what I might have in the tank. As a result, I had the following plan for my legs:

Leg 1 (3.93 miles-1000 foot elevation drop-easy): Not blow out my quads on the downhill. Shoot for 6:30 pace.
Leg 2 (7.25 miles-rolling hills-hard): Run a controlled pace (7:00ish), pass some people and have something in the tank for the final leg.
Leg 3 (5.98 miles-rolling hills-medium): Empty said tank :-)

Pre-Race: Van 1 (Sarah, Dave, Matt, Joe, Karl and myself) met up at OHSU and headed up the mountain. The ice got broken when Sarah picked up a speeding ticket, with the special bonus of the officer telling her that "just because she sped doesn't make her a bad person". Once at the mountain, we checked in and soaked in the atmosphere. 20 teams leaving every 15 minutes made for a hectic yet fun starting line. Teams ranged everywhere from serious teams like the Hot Tamales (a top women's team) to costumed teams like The Superheroes and a team from Mexico decked out in wrestling masks. We'd see the first two teams over most of the course. Also of note was the man with scrub bottoms and no shirt who was nice enough to draw an anatomically correct heart on our van.
Leg 1 (23:17; 4 road kills @ 5:55 pace): I took a butchered hand off from Dave (we ended up chest to head at one point as Dave is about 6'1") and set off down the hill. Nike's involvement this year as a title sponsor led to a much larger international contingent (they evidently flew employees and suppliers over all expenses paid). This was evident as the first two people I passed were from Turkey and Norway. I then proceeded to not see anyone else until the last half mile. At that point, I saw the Dairy Queen and knew I was almost home. Although I felt like I ran "controlled", I ended up going a WEE bit faster than expected. A bizarre first leg because of the speed (I was going downhill) and the fact that I had the shortest leg by almost two miles. It almost felt like I'd barely done any work. That is until I went to walk to the van and felt my quads shake a bit. Uh oh...

Leg 2 (49:58; 24 road kills @ 6:53 pace): Upon completion of the sixth leg, our van went through the back roads and crashed for two hours at our house as we were about 4 miles from where we'd be taking back over the race from van 2. We would have gotten there earlier but we made the mistake of letting Karl warm down after his leg; about 30 minutes later the search party finally found him in a packed to the gills Fred Meyer parking lot. It was nice to be able to sleep in my own bed though the wake up call came way too quickly. Back on went the clothes (with new underwear and socks) and out the door we went into the heart of the night. My next leg was going to be a challenge. Over 7 miles of rolling hills in the middle of the night. As I waited for the hand off, I realized that there was an ever increasing gap between the previous runner and myself. My competitive side took over as I wanted to bridge the gap immediately. As I took the hand off I had to force myself to keep in control and just slowly catch people. And catch them I did; 14 people in the first 4 miles. This made the darkness a little more doable as you always had a bobbing light ahead of you to chase down. After the 14th person, there was then a gap of 2 miles where no one was to be found and I kept myself occupied by admiring the stars in the clear night sky. The last mile or so was where I really had fun; passing 10 people and pushing it JUST a little bit to a) come in under 7 minute pace and b) pass an additional 10 people. Of course, the next leg was a short one so my warm down consisted of running back to the van and racing off to the next hand off. Overall though the legs felt pretty good.

Leg 3 (39:35; 34 road kills @ 6:37 pace): In between legs, we tried to get some more sleep though this time I was much less successful. Somehow a giant horse field didn't feel quite as nice as my own bed. Go figure. In its stead was about half a can of Coke and handfuls of our newly found 55oz bag of Peanut M&M's. That's the best thing about a race like this; you can eat whatever you want knowing full well you're going to burn it off at some point. Overall though my intake was pretty basic and race related; lots of fluids (to the point that it seemed every time I took in water or gatorade I was immediately going to the Honey Bucket), peanut butter bagels and Clif Bars. After various levels of sleep and in my case narrowly avoiding getting sucked up by the Honey Bucket cleaners, we were on the course for our final legs. My final leg was rolling hills approaching the coast range (our superstar Joe actually had to climb the coast range in his final leg). As I waited for the hand off, my competitive side was getting stoked as I saw numerous people take off in various levels of discomfort ahead of me. I felt pretty good considering I'd run over 11 miles to this point. So I looked at Sarah and told her and some of my team members to be ready for me at 40 minutes. I got a few skeptical looks and I prefaced it by saying that I might not make it on time, but I wanted to give myself a challenge. The leg itself was trickier than advertised; a lot of dusty roads as they were doing construction in this stretch of the course. It's amazing how you can trick a body to run faster than it wants, simply by challenging it to catch the "next person" ad nauseum. That's exactly what I did, dodging pot holes all along the way and racking up 34 road kills. I approached a stretch where there was a tent and what looked like an exchange point. Knowing I was somewhere in my last mile I started sprinting thinking it was the finish line. As I got closer though I realized I was wrong; it was just a few locals with a really nice setup watching the runners. Right as I was ready to shift gears and slow down, I could HEAR the finish line. Not knowing how much longer it was, I said "screw it" and shifted into overdrive. Waiting for me at the finish line? My lovely wife, who'd worked a double shift as a volunteer and by pure luck came up to our exchange right as our van pulled in. A very welcome prize for finishing the final leg in 39:35. One thing to note though was the amount of support one receives on the course. Being a runner whose team didn't stop along the way to cheer (which was fine; we were hard pressed a number of times to just get to the hand off in time) it was nice to have random folks cheering you on as you plugged along. This came in handy on the final leg as people were cheering you on, giving you an idea as to how much further you had to go, etc. There is a definite sense of togetherness that goes with doing an event of this magnitude.

Post-Race: Once our final runner finished (Karl actually was able to pass the van, hand off and walk back to us still stuck in traffic trying to get to the exchange point), we headed off to Seaside. We knew it would be another 4-5 hours until our team came in so we, being the smart Van 1 folks we were, limped out of the van and partook in the beer and hamburgers being sold at the finish line. It was great after such a hard effort to be able to sit back, trade war stories and just generally laugh about what we'd accomplished. What had started out as 6 individuals had combined into a tight knit team of runners proud of the work they'd put in. Given the competitive nature of the group and the fact that everyone in it had done races at some point, there was a realization that we fed off each other to produce faster times than expected. Good thing too; Van 2 while also having a fun time had a much more laissez faire approach. A quick guesstimate had our van average 7 min miles while the other van averaging 9. Needless to say both group were happy to be where they were. In fact, when we took a final picture of Van 1, my prompt of "Carried them on 3" got the biggest laughs of the weekend.

So about 7:30pm, 90 minutes under the cutoff, our final leg came in. We all congregated and crossed the line as a team. At 26 hours, 19 minutes (8:01/mile pace), we finished in the top 25% of teams and were about 45 minutes over what we'd been projected at which was pretty good since that time was considering only 11 of our runners. We took a few team pictures and then just like that, it was over. Most everyone drove back to Portland that night and were itching to get on the road. Becca and I elected to stay in town, enjoy the experience and head back the next day. Thankfully that involved lots of pit stops as my increasingly sore legs appreciated the wandering through the streets of Seaside and Astoria.

Overall, Hood to Coast was a fantastic experience. I had great teammates, Becca got to see up close what the experience entails, I got to feed my competitive side (so much so that I think I'm going to do a few more races this fall) and I'm already ready to do it again next year. Though maybe next time I'll shoot for more roadkill :-)

Brian

Pain? What pain?

I'm been a runner for almost 20 years now; I ran track (begrudgingly; why run around in a circle so much?) and cross-country (definitely my favorite) in high school, got burned out and went away from it for part of college and then have had a love/hate relationship with the sport for most of my 20's.

Upon "retiring" from ultimate in 2004, my friend Dave convinced me to train with him for the Twin Cities Marathon. He was convinced that it wouldn't take much for me to be able to step up and do a race of this distance (despite my longest run previous being 14 miles).

Long story short, Dave got injured and had to stop training but with the help of my wife the domestique I was able to finish training and have a great race day, running 3:26. (The picture above is my post-finish "where's my friggin' Chipolte" stare)

For the first time in a very long time, running was fun. I continued to do so until we left on the trip. I really think a major reason for this was the moderation in which I trained; 4 days/week and reasonable mileage as opposed to the levels in which I'd run (and gotten burned out) previously. Upon our return, I was actually excited to get back into running. After a bit of a slow start (not running for 15 months will do that to you) I actually found myself running at a faster level than before in no small part due to the 20 lbs. I'd lost during the trip.

With this I got all geeked up; time to try to boost the mileage and try to qualify for the Boston Marathon. Unfortunately the reality of school and the job search made that an unrealistic goal. Instead I elected to just have fun with my running and do the occasional race (like the Hagg Lake 25k that left me looking like this).

Fast forward to this summer. I've been looking for a few racing opportunities just to see where I'm at speed wise but I really prefer the endurance races as they make my methodical racing style pay off. So what to do?

The Hood to Coast relay. A 12 person, 195 mile relay that I last ran as a HS'er 16 years ago. Thanks to the wonders of the internet, I was able to find a team that needed a runner. So now I have just over a month to get in good enough shape to run on average 15-16 miles over a 24 hour span with little to no sleep crammed in the back of a van. No problem!

I'm excited; this coupled with a few cross-country style races in the fall have my competitive juices flowing. There will be plenty to write about so expect a few entries about my continued running adventures into the fall with a guarantee that they'll be another picture (likely much like the one above) after Hood to Coast.

Off to go for a run!

Brian

Being busy isn't any excuse for not posting...

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, here's what Becca and I have been up to as of late:

• The big news is that we have a place to live as of March 1st. We found a townhouse in SE Portland about 2 miles from J&L's. Their hospitality has been fantastic but it will be nice to have my own office and a kitchen where grilling meat and drinking a Mt. Dew will not be endlessly heckled. The house is in SE Portland and could end up being a potentially long commute to some job locales but in the short term we elected to go with a great place in a nice neighborhood with the other things we wanted: groceries & stores within walking distance as well as a close proximity to running/commuter bike trails.
  
• Becca continues to be very busy with her consulting with Boston Scientific, splitting time between Portland and Minneapolis. It's not an ideal situation by any means but it also is a paycheck that allows us to have a slightly smoother reentry into Oregon life. Plus it's further reminding her what she does and doesn't want from a job.
• I'm quite busy with school. I even got back my first case analysis for my Marketing Strategies class. The analysis, which started as a steaming pile of... stuff, eventually turned into a A-. However, I'm also writing this entry in an effort to procrastinate on my second analysis. Good to see that some parts of being back in school come back easier than others.
• Becca is keeping busy contemplating all the varying nesting techniques she can use in our new townhouse. :-) Needless to say she's very excited about having a place of our own again for the first time since May 2005. Yes in the end it will have been almost two years since we've had an actual home of our own.
  
• My job search continues to go. I made a conscious effort this time to focus on networking and more company research than just finding jobs I like and applying for them. As a result, it feels like it's been a longer process; there is only so much networking you can do in a given day vs. time intensive tasks such as writing cover letters, etc. However given my somewhat narrow scope (sports business first, online marketing second) it's been extremely helpful. I have a few possibilities floating out there so hopefully something will allow me to get my foot in the door sooner than later.
• Becca hasn't really started looking for work yet; partially because of her current consulting and partially because she doesn't know what she wants to do. The good news is her background is such that finding a job is likely going to be a very quick process for her!
• Oh and if the hectic schedule of job hunting and school wasn't enough, I decided to put my body through the grinder again. I'm currently training for another marathon, with the likely target San Diego in June. I've also got an eye on breaking 3:10 and therefore qualifying for Boston. Not sure if the training is going to hold up given the general chaos of life but for now I'm giving it a go. Sure I have to shave a good 15 minutes off my time from two and a half years ago but I figure the 20 lbs. I've lost is at least worth 5 of 'em.

That's it from here. More writing soon. I'd promise but I'm not a big fan of breaking promises :-)

Brian