While crossing the St. John’s Bridge, I thought of the Bixby Bridge during my first marathon, Big Sur, in April of 2000. I still vividly remember crossing the finish line in Monterey that day as this activeduty Navy runner was literally in tears and proud of it. But what about marathon number 35 or 42? Why couldn’t I remember those finishing line moments? Easy answer: they were not number 50! Every marathon is special, but hitting the 2013 Portland finish line gave me a feeling of exuberance I hadn’t experienced in over a decade. It was such a major relief, much like my first marathon finish, and all because of a simple number! Hanging up your sneakers with 49 marathon finishes would have been much like having a PR of 3 hours flat, one second short of reaching the two hour timeframe! As a marathoner, you are alone in meeting this challenge, but everywhere I looked there were brothers- and sistersin-arms chasing their dreams. It’s a sea of humanity pushing towards one solidified goal. In Portland, everyone was treated as a winner as we limped toward the smiling volunteers who were holding space blankets, northwest tree seedlings and medals. How incredibly wonderful it felt as I absorbed every second of that finisher medal being draped around my
neck. How quickly forgotten were the 20,000 miles I had run the last decade or the countless Saturday morning long runs leading up to that moment. All the years of plugging my ears to logic felt worth it! But euphoria can be oblivious to your body’s needs after 26.2 miles, and I couldn’t help but notice that the medical staff ensured I was okay to move on before my picking up the best swag in the country. In the end, what do you have to show for running 50 marathons? Perhaps a slight limp or, worst case scenario, surgeries as you get older. But how do we remember that achievement in time? The finisher medal, of course! As of October 6th, I was holding the best marathon medal in the nation. Two hundred years from now you can bet that symbol of valor will withstand the hands of time. Perhaps it will be displayed in a descendant’s den as a reminder of my own little war – a war against complacency, against that little voice urging me to turn over and get another hour’s sleep. As I drove home I realized that Portland will always be my Boston, as I am an average runner at best. And much like that historic 1845 coin toss which decided the city’s name, everyone who ran the 2013 Portland marathon came out a winner. •
Portland Marathon Race Report Portland has set such a high standard that you almost hope for something to go wrong, or a hot duel for first, or maybe a streaker, to give you something different to write home about. But ho hum: 2013’s edition was another perfect Portland Marathon. Chamber of Commerce weather, flawless course management, fast times at the top and many PRs along the way. Men’s winner Jameson Mora, who repeated his win here last year, was so far ahead by the 20-mile mark that he could have stopped for the world’s longest potty break and still won. His final time of 2:20.53 was a quality performance, as was the 2:42.30 of women’s winner Rachel Jaten of Spokane. At age 38 she qualified for her second Olympic Marathon Trials (in 2016) and made a significant impact on our Best Tines List. Mora, Jaten, and the other finishers ran under the finish banner on a street made quiet this year by Race Director Les Smith’s decision to keep the area around the finish clear—the only visible concession to the terrorist threat created by the Boston incident. There were plenty of other security measures taken as well, reassures Smith, but none as visible. Nothing to keep the Portland Marathon from being its usual awardwinning marathon day. —Martin Rudow
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