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July 4, 2005
Sauvie Island Fast Flat Half report 
So. I went into this unprepared. Basically, I've had one significant walk, 12 miles, last weekend, since doing the Gorge Marathon a month ago. I haven't been religiously hydrating, and in fact, I went for a 90 mile scooter ride the day before AND had a beer. I didn't even carboload.
But this didn't stop me from thinking about PRing. I had a plan. Try to maintain a 16 minute mile pace for the first 7 miles, then 15 minute miles for the next 5ish miles, and then all out from there. Was this doable? I didn't know but I figured it wouldn't hurt me too much to try.
My last PR was at Freescale, with a chip time of 3:35:27, and a total pace of 16:27/M. When I looked at that this morning, I only remember seeing the clock time of 3:41:05.
I scooted out to Sauvie Island, about a half hour north of Portland (and within the city limits). The parking was primarily on grass, so I parked my scooter on the road leading by the Howell-Bybee house, and chained it up to a "No Parking at any time" sign.
I went up to the tents to say hi to Celia, and a park ranger walked right by me with his big silver sheriff's star. So I said to him, "this is more begging forgiveness than asking permission. I have a scooter, I can't park it on grass because it might tip and unload all of its oil, and I've parked it on the road by a No Parking sign."
He looked at me quite kindly and said, you know I can't give you permission for that, and if someone else parks along there, I'll have to give all of you citations. What about parking in our park staff lot. Well, okay! So I did, and managed to get to the start line on time.
I was wearing my g@rmin, and for whatever reason, I have it set on miles per hour, so I tried to keep it around 3.8-3.9, and I'd look at the time when I'd hit milemarkers. Generally, I hit my target times and was feeling pretty good.
The first third of the route is primarily shade. It plays havoc with the g@rmin, but I love shade. So, I'd fill my bottle at aid stations, have a schluck of gat0rade, and move on. My plan was to stay well hydrated, and do a fair amount of peeing. So far, so good.
The second two thirds of the course are unrelenting sun. Sauvie Island is 30,000 acres of farming community and wildlife reserve, and it really is flat flat flat. I did not wear a hat (dumb!). That's one of the few in-the-race things that I would do differently.
Swallows were very hard at work eating bugs, and diving down right in front of us. Lots and lots of bluebirds! Lots of cyclists.
I didn't really try to talk to anyone, and I was kinda rocking out on the iP0d. I'm not generally that antisocial, I just wanted to get out there, get it done, and go home. But one person I interacted with multiple times was this 11-year old. When I first came upon him, it was maybe mile 4 or 5, and he was looking pretty bedraggled. I would pass him, when the time came, and he would almost always start jogging until he was several blocks ahead of me. His walking pace was pretty slow though, so I always caught up with him without trying.
It's that old, I can't let the fat woman who's my grandmother's age pass me! I understand that, that's okay.
At one point, around mile 8 or 9, I had to hit the portapotty, and when I came out, there he was. He was looking worse. Not like he was about to collapse, but he obviously hadn't counted on this being hard. I said to him, how ya doing? I'm fine, he says, not convincingly. It's warm out here, isn't it? Yeah, it is. Then I walked ahead.
I was achy and not having a super-great time, but I was keeping to my goals, and anxious to finish and be done with this. I was revisited by that old demon, the one that asks why the hell I'm doing this? I could be sleeping in, I could be going out to breakfast at some hipster, trendy spot, and instead I'm walking around in a giant circle, on a 13 mile path that seems like it's never going to end, in the blazing sun.
It's harder to answer that voice when you're pushing it, and you're not feeling as strong as you'd like.
Around 10 or 11, I saw a crowd gathered on the course. Oh shit. Runner down. One of the marathoners had collapsed of dehydration and was in shock. I stopped to see if there was anything I could do—I had an almost full bottle of water, lots of gu and endurolytes. But the people on the course had things all in hand, calling an ambulance, giving him water, etc.
That kinda knocked the ginger out of me. After that, I just couldn't really push it. I tried, but I couldn't push the image of him out of my head, and I was thinking about all of the gambles that he might have made that brought him to this. I kept trying to pick out walkers ahead of me and try to catch up with them, but my heart wasn't in it. Soon after, the iP0d played "When the spell is broken", and so it was.
I regained my senses and forwarded the ip0d. Then I walked by two folks seated at the end of their driveway with a hose with spray attachment. Wuhoo! I'm feeling better!
And then we turned the corner, with a mile and a half left, and something inside of me snapped, and I took off. I actually passed some runners—admittedly, runners who were walking, but still. It probably helped that we were going up the one steep short hill on the course. As I turned the corner to the finish line, with its steep downhill, I actually ran, crossed the finish line, heard them call my name and raised my arms with joy. A man gave me a water bottle and a teenager my medal, and I gravitated to the shady hill where lots of folks had collapsed.
I collapsed too. For the first time after a race, I laid down, took off my shoes, noticed the dirt and grass all over me and didn't care. A woman came by and congratulated me, and said she had never seen someone so happy to cross the finish line. You had such a huge grin, she said. I laid there, drinking water and watching passersby forever, or about a half hour.
Walking again was a test, but I got my strawberry shortcake, chatted with some folks, and ran into my ranger again, who unlocked the gate so I could get out. He was so nice. Yeah!
After some breakfast out and an ice bath, I had a luscious nap. Yeah!
According to Sweetie, at 10am this morning, the thermometer on the shed read 87 degrees in the sun. Supposeably the temperatures were only in the 70s, but man, they sure didn't feel that way.
I thought I PRed. Not by much, but by something. But, now I'm not sure, and won't know until I see the results.
Now I'm achey, but I feel better than after the Gorge—I was afraid I'd feel worse.
Either way: if I can do this well relatively half-assedly, what could I do with a little preparation?
Posted at July 4, 2005
Comments
Wow! What an eventful race, VJ. That's a shame about the runner ~ my friend basically did the same thing in mile 24 of a marathon. The mind can only will the body so far...
Unless, of course, you're VJ! Super Woman! Great job, and whether you PR'ed or not, you made a hard race a reality and finished strong and happy. That's all worth a lot. - Mia
Posted by: Mia at July 4, 2005 9:39 PM
That's a great report. I'm glad you had a great experience--that's what it's all about.
Congrats on pushing yourself and doing a great job.
Posted by: Marshall at July 5, 2005 4:26 AM
Great post, it makes walking 13 mils in heat almost sound attractive! PR or not, great job!
Posted by: Marla at July 5, 2005 4:26 AM
woohoo! thats sweet VJ, way to push yourself, yeah!!!! :)
Posted by: brent at July 5, 2005 5:38 AM
Great job, VJ!
Posted by: Rebecca at July 5, 2005 6:27 AM
Hey, now that's a nice cop. :) Sounds like that race was alot hotter than the 70's. I'd say your long race experience paid off here big time. Knowing when to slow and when to push and to hydrate well. Good job! Hope that kid and the fellow on the ground were ok.
Posted by: Jon in Michigan at July 6, 2005 11:22 AM