B2B and Back Again

I had just completed my first race. My goal for the year was to complete a (singular) 5K, but I had my heart set on the Bridge to Bridge (B2B). The B2B has an 8K race, but no 5K. In my excitement I had told everyone and I mean everyone, I was going to run the B2B. So in a long standing tradition of mine; I sucked it up. I would run 2 races in 2008. This time I drove the course and realized quickly that as picturesque as the bridges were, they were nothing but man-made inclines. Great. Now not only do I have to prepare for a longer run, but one with inclines. I was terrified. But I had already registered and my forty-some dollars for the registration fee was non-refundable. My sentence was set and there was no chance of parole. So I ran at an incline for three weeks to prepare. Race day I recruited a friend who I told I needed for her emotional support. In reality I wanted someone there to identify my body. This race was almost 5 miles! Who in their right mind would run that distance?! I managed to eat a light breakfast of a banana – which due to my nervousness tasted almost identical coming up as it did going down. I made sure to have my trusty I-Pod and my newest gadget with me. My Nike +. Oh, how I loved my Nike +! It tracks my miles, speed, and goals. It’s like when the teacher gave you a foil star in class for a job well done. You could have built a nuclear power plant for show & tell, but it meant nothing if you didn’t get your star. The reviews states how incredibly accurate the device was in determining your miles. We arrive at the race after looking for parking for 30 minutes. It’s insane to think that all these people drive to run in a race that is most likely a longer distance than the drive from their houses to the race. We get to the start line just in time for me to realize that I have to pee. Again, thousands are in attendance and there appear to be 4 port-a-potties (okay, maybe more - but at time all I could realize was there were not enough!). No time to pee the race is about to begin in about 7 minutes. In the fine tradition of my people; I suck it up. I set my I-Pod for an 8K distance. I am ready. The race starts and we being the slow shuffle dance across the starting line. Something I didn’t realize was that this race was a walk/run. Which means that there are people WALKING! Slowly! Nothing is worse, than having someone slowly shuffle in front of you when your tying to get your motivation and average pace up. And they were TALKING! I had my very first on foot road rage moment. I started darting around the walkers, while also trying not to out pace my average speed. We approach the big hill on the way to the first of two bridges in the race. This hill is steep. The kind of steep that makes you nervous about parking facing down hill. I crest the hill, slightly winded, but for the most part feeling good. The walkers are behind me and now I have space around me for the first time. The Steele Bridge is the first you cross and I realize that as amazing as it is to run over this bridge and to see all of downtown Portland ahead of you, I begin to wish they had closed the entire bridge for the event. Cars are racing down the opposite lane of traffic spewing their fumes. Nothing like increasing your lung capacity to suck in exhaust. This was minor though in the knowledge that I was doing something that I never thought I would ever, ever be able to due. Run. The day was crisp with morning and I felt great. I spy a runner who is about to pass me. He looks sharp. He has the complete matching Nike outfit. He has on the $200+ running shoes I saw recently at the sporting goods store (Nike, of course). And is calves; his calves looked like they were carved by some long dead roman sculptor. He had on these sporty Ray-Ban glasses – again perfectly matching the outfit. He was a thin, toned and just fantastic. Not really my type, but he looked like a running god to me. “Wow”, I thought, "I bet he is going to finish this race in like 20 minutes." I see him pass me and mentally wish him well. Halfway through the race I see Mecca. A rest station with port-a-potties! I pause and wait in line to relieve myself, grab some water and continue on my run. I figure I won’t finish this race with record speed, but I am going to finish – alive. A better result than I expected. As I am crossing the second bridge, I see the running god pass me again! Oh, what happened to my running god! Did you fall? How did I pass you and not noticed? Wait, I even stopped for a potty break! I must call Hell when I get home and see how the snowballs are faring. After crossing the bridge and rounding the final bend, my Nike + chimes in, “Congratulations! You’ve just completed your 8K!” As I am about ready to cheer to my own success, I see a mile marker ahead of me; 0.5 miles till the finish line. “Liar! Dirty filthy liar! Stupid Nike +!”, I think. Fear sets in. What if I during my training, I have been running less than I thought and now my body is going to explode because it wasn’t ready for this! Too late now, I have to complete this race. Anyway I have to pee again. With that I finish my race and claim my prize; breakfast at the original “Original Pancake House” and use a proper bathroom.