October 24-25 was a double marathon weekend. On Saturday, I ran the Autumn Leaves 50K race
in Champoeg State Park in Oregon. On
Sunday, I ran the Columbia Gorge Marathon in Hood River.
I scheduled this double to get back on schedule after
cancelling my plans to run the Bemidji Blue Ox Marathon two weeks ago. This was the only weekend I could add an
extra race. All the other weekends
involved flights that were already booked, so my travel plans weren’t flexible.
I asked my friends for help finding two races on the weekend
of October 24-25 that were close enough together that I could stay at the same
hotel and drive to both. Ideally, I
wanted both to be marathons, but the best I could do was a 50K and a
marathon. I knewit would be hard on my
legs, but I was determined to stay on schedule to reach my long-term goals for
the year.
Before registering for either race, I checked to see if I
could get an affordable flight to Portland.
I was pleasantly surprised to find an airfare under $400 for non-stop
flights with convenient times. This
happened to be the same morning that the expo for the Twin Cities Marathon
started. I needed to get there before they
opened, so I could register for that race at the expo. I didn’t know how many race numbers they had
left, so I couldn’t afford to delay. Had
I been unable to get into that race, I wouldn’t have had any hope of staying on
schedule.
After getting home from the Twin Cities Marathon expo, I
checked to make sure I could still register for both the Autumn Leaves 50K and the
Columbia Gorge Marathon. I registered
for both races and then went back to Delta’s website to book my flight. It was only a few hours after my initial
airfare search, but now the same flights were twice as expensive! As I started searching for other flights that
might be more affordable, I was seeing options disappearing from one minute to
the next.
Waiting to book my flights was a big mistake. I’m used to booking flights a few months
before a race. When you book just three
weeks before a race, prices are much more fluid. I would’ve had nothing to lose by booking the
flight first. You can always cancel a
flight without penalty if you do it within 24 hours of booking.
Instead of a non-stop flight to Portland, I had to settle
for an itinerary that included a three and a half hour layover in Seattle. I also had to pay quite a bit more than I
wanted. At this point, I didn’t have any
other options. This was the only double
I could find that didn’t involve unreasonably long drives. Also, I had already paid to register for both
races. From now on, when I see a good
airfare, I won’t hesitate to book it.
I arrived in Portland Friday afternoon. The Columbia Gorge Marathon is in Hood River,
but I could pick up my race packet at one of the Foot Traffic stores in
Portland. I’ve been to this store
before, and it’s not far from the airport, so I made a stop there before
driving to my hotel.
I stayed at the Hilton Garden Inn in Lake Oswego. That location was 20 miles from the site of
my first race and about 70 miles from the site of my second race. It was also just a few miles from the Road
Runner Sports store where I could pick up my race packet for the Autumn Leaves
50K.
After picking up one race packet and checking in at Hilton
Garden Inn, I picked up the other race packet.
Then I grabbed some pre-race pizza at Pieology.
Because of the two hour time difference, it already felt
late, so I did my best to get to bed as early as I could. I didn’t sleep great, but I got more sleep
than I usually do before a race.
The Autumn Leaves 50K is run on a 10K circuit through
Champoeg State Park. The course is
mostly paved, but there’s a section on trails.
The 50K race consisted of five laps.
There was also a 50 mile race that ran the same circuit eight
times. Both races started at 7:00, but
the 50 race had an early start at 6:00 for people needing more time. Both races had the same cutoff time. We had to start our final lap by 4:00
PM. For the 50K, that was a pretty
generous time limit. I had nine hours to
finish the first 40K. I could do that
even if I walked the whole way.
I would pass aid stations three times per lap, so I didn’t
need to carry any fluids with me. The beverages
at the aid stations were water, Coke and Nuun.
I didn’t want to drink too much Coke, and Nuun has no calories, so I
brought a supply of Gu packets. Taking
in enough calories was important, because I had another race the next day.
For some time, I’ve wanted to experiment with run/walk
pacing in my marathons, but I’ve had some concerns. First, I was experiencing pain in my left leg
whenever I switched from running to walking.
I’ve also been having trouble with my legs getting stiff if I don’t
maintain a fast enough pace. My
threshold seems to be about 10 minutes per mile. Lately, that hasn’t been a sustainable pace,
so I tend to start too fast and then slow down dramatically.
Last weekend, for the first time in months, I was able to
switch from running to walking during a race without having any pain in my left
leg. That made this race a good time to
experiment with walking breaks. It also
helped to know that I didn’t have to worry about a time limit. My goal was to keep the pace as comfortable
as possible and save energy for Sunday’s race.
The temperature was in the mid-40s at the start, but warmed
into the low 60s. Because I was mixing
running with walking, I dressed warm. I
wore tights, gloves and a warm hat. The
tights and hat were cheetah prints. I
haven’t been wearing my signature cheetah look lately, because my pace hasn’t
exactly been cheetah-like. The
organizers of this race were encouraging runners to wear costumes, so the
cheetah look seemed more appropriate.
I had to drive for about 30 minutes to get to the park. I arrived just before the early start. After parking, I saw dozens of lights coming
toward me. Those were the early starters
for the 50 mile race. Seeing where they
came from, I found my way to the start area.
There were two campfires at the start.
I sat down by one of the fires to stay warm and chat with other runners.
We started before dawn, so I carried a hand-held flashlight
for the first lap. To keep my arms warm,
I started the race wearing a Tyvek jacket.
I lined up near the back. I was
thinking I might walk most of the first loop.
Everyone else started running, including the runners lined up near the
back. I followed suit, but ran slowly
enough to stay behind most of the other runners.
About half of the course was alongside a river. Near the river, it was colder. Instead of walking most of the first loop, I
ran most of it. I needed to run to keep
warm until the sun came up. There was an
aid station in the middle of the route that we passed twice per lap. Each time I got there, I took a two minute
walking break. I also took walking
breaks at each of the two turnaround points.
Initially, that worked out to about two minutes of walking for every 20
minutes of running.
After passing the aid station for the first time, I passed a
campground where the family of one of the runners was cheering. Their little girl said, “Good Morning. Good Job.
You’re Almost There.” Her father
quickly told her not to say “you’re almost there.” I was amused.
I was only 3K into a 50K race.
That may be a new record for the earliest “almost there.”
I ended up finishing my first lap in 1:25. By then, I was warm enough to discard my
jacket. I also dropped off my flashlight
and picked up my camera, so I could start taking pictures of the course.
The circuit consisted of a loop at one end and an
out-and-back at the other end. The
intermediate aid station was near the beginning of the out-and-back. As we left the picnic area where we started
and finished, we got our first views of autumn leaves.
This side of the loop was a paved path. It was mostly flat, making this a relatively
fast course.
Later, on the out-and-back portion of the course, we
sometimes had glimpses of the river, between the trees.
About midway through the out-and-back section, there was a
bridge. When I was wondering if I was
getting close to the turnaround, I asked myself, “have you crossed the bridge
yet?”
During this lap, I saw my friends Steve and Bob coming
back. They were already a lap ahead of
me. Steve went on to finish second in
the 50K. Bob placed second in the 50
mile race.
After completing the out-and-back, we did the remaining half
of the loop. This half of the loop was
on a variety of trail surfaces.
Although the route was the same, each lap felt
different. The first lap was all about
warming up and getting a feel for the course.
The second lap was my first chance to see the whole course in daylight and
take pictures. The third lap was the
“middle” lap. When I reached the
turnaround, I could tell myself I was half done with the race. I reached the halfway mark in 3:41. Coming back, my legs started to feel more
fatigued. I finished that lap in 4:30,
but I knew the last two laps would be slow.
Physically, each lap is more difficult than the preceding
lap, as fatigue gradually sets in.
Psychologically, the fourth lap is the toughest. By then I was tiring, but I still had a long
way to go. As I started that lap, I
expected to start doing more walking.
Instead of four two-minute walking breaks per lap, I considered doing a
50-50 mix. Then I asked myself how I
felt compared to the same point in my previous race.
I had 20K to go. I
was feeling fatigued from the first 30K, but I actually felt better than I did
a week ago with 20K to go in a marathon.
That gave me a lift. After
starting the lap with two minutes of walking, I ran to the aid station. After another walking break, I ran most of
the way to the turnaround. The
turnaround is at the top of a short hill, so I walked up the hill. After the turn, I resumed running, since it
was downhill.
In the second half of that lap, I started to slow
significantly. The sun was higher in the
sky, and I was getting hot. I also
noticed some soreness in my right groin.
To minimize the wear and tear on my leg, I walked until I reached the
trail section. At first I was planning
to walk the rest of the race. When I
reached the trail, I decided to run. On
that section, it felt more natural to pick up my feet. When I got back to the start/finish area, I
realized I took an hour to do the second half of that lap. My time after four laps was 6:18.
With one lap to go, I decided to walk the whole way. Walking took less energy than running, and it
was easier on my legs. The only downside
to walking the last 10K was knowing it might take as long as two hours. I had already taken an hour to do the
previous 5K, and that was mostly running, so I didn’t feel I had much to lose.
After a few minutes of walking, I picked up my pace. I was now able to put some power into my
power walking. It took less effort than
running. I also no longer felt hot. About a mile into the loop, I noticed another
runner approaching from behind. She was
also doing the 50K. She was also on her
last lap. She was also walking. I picked up my pace so we could talk.
Her name was Jill, and like me, she realized at this point
she could walk faster than she could run.
It was tough to match her pace, but I worked at it so we could keep
talking. Even though we were walking,
that lap seemed to pass quickly.
As we reached the turnaround, I was curious to know how long
it took to do the first half. I was
stunned to see it only took 46 minutes.
I was going much faster now than I had in the second half of my fourth
lap. If I could keep up that pace in
the second half, I would break eight hours.
I was determined to walk the whole loop, including the trail
section. Jill was planning to walk until
we were near the end and then finish running.
When we reached the trail section, we had to go single file. Walking on the trails wasn’t as smooth as
walking on pavement, but I pushed the pace as much as I could. I didn’t realize it at first, but I was
pulling away from Jill. By the time I
realized she was falling behind, I could barely see her.
My cheetah hat and tights were a big hit with the spectators
and the other runners. Through the race,
I got lots of positive comments. There
was another runner wearing zebra tights.
As I was approaching the finish, I saw him talking with some of his
friends. I said, “You better not stop
running. I’m your natural
predator.” That got a few laughs.
I finished in 7:53:30.
In addition to my finisher medal, the race director gave me a water
bottle filled with gels and electrolyte tablets. That was in appreciation for my cheetah garb.
About five minutes after I finished, I saw Jill finish. She had to slow down on the trails, but she
also broke eight hours.
I was eating some sweet snacks at the aid station when I
found out they had hot food at another tent.
They had teriyaki chicken, black beans, rice, and various toppings. I ate bowl of chicken, beans and rice. It was warm, it was tasty, and it was great
recovery food. I sat down by one of the
campfires to talk with friends. I stayed
until everyone I knew in the 50K was finished.
Then I started the 30 minute drive back to my hotel.
Ideally, I should have taken an ice bath. Too much time had passed to get the full
benefit. Instead, I took a quick shower
and hopped into the hotel whirlpool.
After a hot soak and some massage, my legs felt surprisingly good.
When I was feeling up to going out again, I went to
Pizzicato Pizza for dinner. By time I
got back from dinner, it was already 8:00, and I still wasn’t organized for my
second race. I double-checked the
weather forecast, picked out my clothes, organized my other gear, and figured
out what time I needed to get up.
I got to bed at 9:00, knowing I had to get up early
again. I slept well at first, but woke
up at 3:00 and never got back to sleep.
I eventually got up at 4:00.
The Columbia Gorge Marathon started at 9:00, but they had an
early start at 8:00 for runners who needed more than six hours. I wasn’t confident I could break six hours,
so I decided to take the early start. I
had a few friends who were also taking the early start.
The course was mostly out-and-back, but the start was about
two miles east of the finish. There was
a large parking area at the finish with shuttles to take us to the start. The shuttles began running at 7:00. Since I was taking the early start, I wanted
to be on one of the first buses.
Hood River was about 70 miles from my hotel, but it was
mostly freeway, and there wasn’t much traffic on a Sunday morning. I left the hotel at 5:15 and got to Hood
River at 6:30. It’s normally a scenic
drive, but I wasn’t able to see any of the scenery. It was so dark I could only see the highway.
There was a large tent in the finish area where they were
doing race morning packet pickup. People
taking the early start were supposed to let them know at packet pickup. I already had my race packet, but went inside
to check in for the early start. Then I
learned they were doing that at the starting line instead.
While I was waiting for the shuttles to start, I bumped into
four friends. Those of us doing the
early start rode over on the same bus.
Sunday’s weather was similar to Saturday, except it was a
few degrees cooler, and there was rain in the forecast for the afternoon. Looking at the hourly forecast, it seemed
like it was going to start raining by 2 PM, but possibly earlier. I wore tights, a tech T shirt, polypro gloves
and a waterproof hat. I started the race
wearing a Tyvek jacket, which I could tie around my waist after getting warmed
up. In case the rain started before I
could finish the race, I also kept a plastic rain poncho folded up in my fanny
pack.
The early start instructions advised us that the first water
station might not be set up when we get there.
We needed to bring whatever we needed for the first four miles. I brought a bottle of Gatorade. I drank about half of it before the
race. The rest would last me until the
aid stations were set up. Then I could
discard the empty bottle at an aid station.
As we were riding to the start, the bus went up a series of
steep switchbacks. I was glad we didn’t
have to run up that hill. I think that’s
why we started and finished in different places.
The start was at the Mark Hatfield State Park West Trailhead.
The visitor center was open, so we were
able to go inside to get out of the cold wind.
On the walls, there were maps and pictures of different sections of the
Columbia River Gorge.
I made sure there were other runners lined up in front of
me. I sometimes start fast, but I didn’t
want to be out in front. I didn’t know
the route, so I wanted to follow the other runners. I could see right off the bat that there were
plenty of runners going out at a faster pace.
I ran my own pace, although the first mile was still too fast at 9:25.
In the second mile, we started getting good views. The Columbia River was on our left. To our right, we had views of a tall bluff.
Carrying a Gatorade bottle made it difficult to take
pictures. Each time, I had to stop and
set the bottle on the road, so I had two free hands. Then I could take the camera out of my fanny
pack, snap a picture, put the camera back, and pick up my bottle.
As I passed the two mile mark, I drank some of my
Gatorade. I could see it would only take
one or two additional stops to finish it.
At three miles, we reached an aid station. I was surprised to see it was already set up,
even though the race wouldn’t officially begin until 9:00. I drank the rest of my Gatorade so I could
discard the bottle at the aid station. After
that, it was easier to take pictures.
The first four miles were uphill. I started taking short walking breaks to keep
from getting tired. After we ran through
a long tunnel, the road turned downhill.
After about a mile of downhill running, we turned onto another
road. This was also downhill, but
steeper. I wasn’t looking forward to
running this on the way back.
As we entered the small town of Mosier, the road leveled
off. I could see we were much closer to
river level now. As we left town, I knew
it would be mostly uphill again.
By now, I was feeling warm, so I took off my Tyvek
jacket. Leaving Mosier, we ran past
vineyards and orchards. Then the road
got steeper, and I once again had to break up the long climb with occasional
walking breaks.
As we climbed higher, we encountered more wind. I eventually had to put my jacket on again.
Between 10 and 11 miles, we had a different kind of
scenery. These deer weren’t shy. They walked across the road within a few feet
of several runners.
Soon, the lead runners caught up to me. On a mostly uphill route, it took them 11
miles to make up for my one hour head start.
By now, I was also seeing other early starters on their way back from
the turnaround.
The last mile before the turnaround was downhill. That was a welcome change after all the
uphill running. I paused briefly at a
bridge, to look across a small canyon.
The turnaround was at the Rowena Crest Viewpoint. I went around the loop slowly, pausing to
take in the view.
Coming back, we had the same scenery. Things look different when you’re running in
the opposite direction, but I didn’t take any more pictures. Now it was time to hunker down and work on
getting to the finish.
I knew what to expect coming back. There were long uphill sections and long
downhill sections. Very little of this
course is flat. On the downhills
sections, I would do a slow steady run.
On uphill sections I would walk.
I reached the halfway point in roughly 2:43. I was on pace to break 5:30, but I knew the
second half would be slower. I expected
to do much more walking.
Going out, I realized the general trend was uphill, but I
didn’t realize how long some of the uphill sections were. As I started the second half, I began five
miles that were almost entirely downhill.
I ran the whole way. I didn’t run
particularly fast, but I didn’t need to take any walking breaks.
Running downhill for so long became uncomfortable, even
though I was keeping the pace slow. As I
got closer to Mosier, I was actually looking forward to the uphill section that
came next. Going uphill, I wouldn’t feel
guilty about walking.
Just before town, I recognized an apricot orchard we had passed
on the way out. I got a craving for
apricots. As I ran through town, the
road leveled off. Running on the flat
was more tiring, but I kept running until I got through town and reached the
hill.
When the grade turned uphill, I started walking. At a minimum, I was going to walk the whole
hill. I was entertaining thoughts of
walking the rest of the race. Because I
took the early start, I effectively had a time limit of seven hours. Even if I walked the rest of the way, I would
easily finish within seven hours. I’d be
closer to six.
Shortly after I started walking, I started to feel
drops. The rain I knew would arrive by
2:00 was already here. It was noon. Since I was only feeling scattered drops, I waited
to put on my rain poncho. Instead, I put
on my Tyvek jacket, and hoped for the best.
As I walked up the long steep hill, I was really glad I took
the early start. I had almost eight
miles to go, and that’s a long way to walk in the rain. Had I started at 9:00, I would’ve had an additional
hour in the rain.
When I crested the hill, I forced myself to run. It was slow and uncomfortable at first. Then I reached the long tunnel. This quickly became my favorite part of the
course. It was downhill, and it was dry!
As I emerged from the tunnel, I noticed the rain was no
longer a few light sprinkles. Now it was
really raining. It wasn’t going to get
better. It was supposed to rain all
afternoon.
I knew at this point I needed to put on my rain poncho. I regretted not stopping to put it on while I
was still inside the runnel. I couldn’t
find the tie to hold the hood in place, so I put my hat on over the hood. It probably looked funny, but my hat held the
hood in place.
As I continued running, I noticed the poncho didn’t cover me
completely. I could still feel the cold
rain from the knees down. I could also
feel it on my hands and forearms. The
parts of my body most sensitive to cold were the parts still getting wet. My hands were getting cold, so I made tight
fists to try to keep the heat in. Under
the poncho, my midsection stayed warm, but my cold hands made me uncomfortable.
Any notion of walking the whole way was gone. It was four miles from the tunnel to where we
started. That was all downhill, and I
was going to run all of it. If I could
gain a minute or two per mile, that would get me to the finish sooner. All I could think of was getting under that
huge tent. I wanted to get out of the
rain as soon as I could.
At some point, I realized I had a good chance of breaking
six hours. Before the race, my only goal
was to finish the race – hopefully before it started raining. When I realized I could break six, it
occurred to me that even though I’ve had some slow marathons this year, I’ve
managed to keep all my times under six hours.
I didn’t want this one to be the first one slower than six
When I passed the start area, I still had about two and a
half miles left to reach the finish in Hood River. The first part of it was flat. By now, I knew I would break six hours. I didn’t need to run. I didn’t need to power walk. Even a casual walking pace would be fast
enough. Knowing that, I walked the flat
section, although I did make an effort to walk it briskly.
Next, I reached a steep downhill section. This was the hill I remembered from the bus
ride. We never had to run up this hill,
but we got to run down. I ran here. As I rounded a turn, I looked over the
guardrail and saw Hood River through the trees.
I could see the freeway way below us.
I knew the finish was way down there.
I saw a road sign indicating a sharp switchback. As I finished that turn, I saw another … and
another … and another. It was a steep
descent, and it was uncomfortable, but anything that got me to that nice dry
tent a few minutes sooner was a good thing.
After the last turn, we reached a busy intersection. There were course marshals to stop the
traffic for us. After crossing, I saw it
was still slightly downhill. At the 25
mile mark, I checked my watch. I was
going to break six by a wide margin, but I ran anywhere it was downhill. A volunteer said, “Almost there.” No. I
couldn’t see the finish yet.
Soon we crossed a bridge over some railroad tracks. Just beyond that bridge was a bridge over the
freeway. This was the exit I took in the
morning. I knew how far it was from
there. In the distance, I could see the
parking lot by the finish area. I was
almost there … except … we didn’t cross that bridge. Instead, we turned right and went down a
ramp. We had to go under the freeway and
make a few extra turns. It seemed cruel
to let us get within sight of the finish only to divert us in a different
direction.
On the other side of the freeway more course marshals
stopped traffic so I could cross a street.
As I crossed, one said, “Almost there.”
I thanked him. I could see the
tent. I really was almost there.
Even though I was close, I walked until I could actually see
the finish line. It was behind the
tent. Before crossing the line, I lifted
up my poncho and jacket, to make sure they wouldn’t prevent the chip on my race
bib from recording my finish time. I
finished in 5:41:26.
After I crossed the line, a volunteer gave me my finisher
medal. Because of my hat and hood, I let
her hand it to me. The ribbon slipped
out of my wet hand. It fell to the
pavement … and shattered. The finisher
medals were ceramic. She gave me another
medal, but I felt bad about the one that broke.
I retrieved my gear bag. They were outside, but there were under a tarp to keep them from getting wet. Next I went into the tent, where they had hot food, beer, and tables and chairs. Mostly, I just wanted to be indoors.
While I was eating, I met two of my friends. Later, I saw a few more coming into the
tent. Two more friends were still on the
course. I wanted to wait for them, but I
still had a long drive to get back to the hotel, and I needed to get started.
The drive back made me appreciate how much scenery I missed
in the morning. The Columbia River was
on my right. On my left, there were
hills and cliffs. The trees were
changing color. At one point, I glanced
to my left and saw waterfalls above me.
The only thing that wasn’t beautiful was the highway. In the morning, the highway was all I could
see.
After another soak in the whirlpool and more stretching, I felt
OK again. More importantly, I was
warm. I had pizza for dinner again, this
time at Round Table Pizza. When I got
back to the hotel, I was so exhausted, I went straight to bed.
Running a weekend double used to mean seven or eight hours
on my feet. This weekend, I spent almost
14 hours on my feet. That’s a long time
to be running. It’s an especially long
time to run when you’re nursing injuries.
I don’t feel any worse than I did before the weekend. My right leg actually feels better. I dodged a bullet this weekend, but there are
more bullets headed my way.
These races brought my year-to-date total to 38. They also brought my lifetime total to
293. I need seven more to reach 300. Then I’ll need six more to reach 51 for the
year. They’re all scheduled – 13 marathons
in the next seven weeks. What I lack in
common sense I make up for in determination.
