My First Marathon

On October 4th, I ran the Portland Marthon in the beautiful state of Oregon. After a day of jaunting around the city the day before, Jen dropped me off in the dark downtown and I embarked on a 4 hour and 14 minute journey that I never dreamed I could finish. Thankfully, I did. And shamefully, I am just now getting around to blogging about it.

It was painful, but not until the end. I shed a few tears on the course, but made myself stop when I realized it was preventing me from breathing. The crowd was great, and I am thinking about doing another one. Just stay away from me when I am training. Apparently, I am kind of grouchy.

Below are some highlights from the pictures so lovingly taken by Jen, without whom I could not have done this.

Here I am around Mile 10, feeling pretty good and generally excited to see Jen along the course.

A self-portrait at the reunion area. I didn't really start to hurt until I stopped running, about 5 minutes before this picture was taken. I hobbled around the rest of the day like an 80-year-old, but I was pretty much recovered within 3 days. My advisor says that 27 is the year your body starts to deteriorate, so maybe I ran this race at exactly the right time!