The Great Columbia Bridge Crossing 2009: Doing a 10k with 5k

It was a beautiful sunrise.

Standing in the parking lot waiting for the shuttle to take us over the bridge, I took a picture of the sunrise. The guy next to me gave me a questioning look.

"Because it's beautiful," I said to him.

"There's another reason to take a picture," he said. "Because otherwise no one would believe you were in Astoria and it wasn't raining or foggy."

The man had a point. They only open the bridge to runners and walkers one day out of the year. In previous years, people have done this bridge crossing in rain that slanted sideways on a grey and miserable day.

On the other hand, if it had been lousy weather, there probably wouldn't have been so many people there. Judging by the bib numbers, there were an estimated 4000 walkers and 1000 runners going across one lane of a 4+ mile long bridge.

I figure that works out to 2000 meters for every 1000 people.
2 meters for every 1 person.
So long as they crossed the bridge within the requisite two hours.
Oi vey.

The good news was that between the crowds and the pain* and the time limit, I didn't have much attention left over to deal with my bridge-o-phobia.

*What, I didn't mention the pain part before?

I figure the best way to tell this is to use the GBU formula stolen from Marie of Mousearoo. (If she'd had the sense to copyright this, she'd be raking in the Canadian bucks now. Just kidding, Marie. Love you.)

See the mountain in the background? That's Saddle Mountain.
Did I ever mention that I climbed the very highest part of that high peak?
(Well, all right, I mentioned it here, but who reads that far back? So it's okay to brag a bit. Not that the climb started at sea level, but That's Not The Point.)

Start

Good: Remembered the inhaler. The weather was clear and beautiful, but it was friggin' cold out there.

The tin foil look was much admired. Really.

Bad: Forgot I'd already done two inhaler whiffs an hour ago, and did another one.
Ugly: Got an adrenaline rush (or something that felt a lot like it) because of the inhaling and started off the first mile at a much-too-fast pace, which killed my shins from the start. (I'd already injured my shins from over-doing the sprints earlier this week. Did that stop me from doing it again? Of course not.)

As I crossed into Oregon again, I saw Saddle Mountain in the distance.

Miles 2-3
Good: My legs didn't fall off.
Bad: After the first mile, the shins were quite unhappy, a lot of people passed me, and I ended up in the crying babies section.
Ugly: I kept going.

Getting closer to Saddle Mountain all the time...

Miles 3-4
Good: After the third mile, I started passing most of the people who'd passed me.
Better: The crying babies stayed behind.
Better still: I didn't fall too much off my original pace.

Wait a minute. What's that hill I see looming ahead?

Miles 4-5
Bad: Who put this steep incline here?
Good: While I was working harder to get air, never once started to wheeze.
Better: I could catch my breath and take a couple good shots.

Amazing to note I'm not in the back. I don't know if you can tell from this picture, but the line of walkers stretches back as far as the bridge does. This race was crowded.

Miles 5-6
Bad: Okay, I'm definitely starting to limp by this point.

Good: I'm limping downhill.
Best: I made it off the incline and to the finish line with time to spare.

Woo (ouch) hoo!

At the finish line, a guy was handing out free hugs, so I took one.** But I gave him one back, so it's okay.

What, you thought I was kidding?

**Hey, I grew up in California. And I remember the 60s***. People did hugs back then.
***Okay, I don't remember much about them, but I still absorbed the general Peace, Love, and Hippy-Happiness stuff.

Monday? Already?

Quote du jour: Whenever I feel like exercising I lie down until the feeling passes. - Robert Hutchins

Race report du week: Yesterday's 10k was fun. And painful. I have to work on learning how to pace myself: went too fast at the beginning and ended up with shin pain so bad I limped over the finish line. But I finished with time to spare, so I'm happy. And tired.

I could've gone for the 2nd column of push ups, but I'm worn out from the 10k yesterday, so I want to take it easy.

Exercise du jour:
Week 5 of the (full) 100 push up challenge
Day 1
(60 seconds rest in between)
Set 1 - 17
Set 2 - 19
Set 3 - 15
Set 4 - 15
Set 5 - 20



Week 6 of the 200 sit ups challenge
(60 seconds rest in between)
Day 1
Set 1 - 38
Set 2 - 34
Set 3 - 30
Set 4 - 22
Set 5 - 60
Done. For what good it does. Hmph.
It's not that I'm feeling sore in mind and muscle and soul.


Okay, so it is exactly just that. But I'm going to blame the mood and the mental attitude and most of the physical pain on cramps. Which, sadly, is a quite applicable villain to use in this situation. Really, I don't know how men get by without this excuse perfectly reasonable reason for lack of good performance or appreciation of the performance.

Double Crossing the Mighty Columbia?

Dear Sir or Madam,

By the time you read this, I'll be on a bridge, looking over the edge.

Okay... maybe not exactly looking over. Would you believe looking at the edge from a fairly safe distance?

I'm an English major. We're all about the prepositions. (Sadly, not about the propositions. That's the Wildlife majors' department, damn them.)

Though, of course, when you read this I might still be on the bridge getting ferried across it before walking back, which doesn't really make any sense unless you're a) a crazed fitness fanatic who likes to enter walks and races as motivation or b) you simply like walking across bridges (not a group I fall into, I confess).

What, me? On a tangent?

I'm off doing the Great Columbia Bridge Crossing. Details later. And, of course, the gold star. I have a feeling I'll have earned it.

Done! Definitely earned that star.

Photo courtesy of

http://www.flickr.com/photos/sea-turtle/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0