Today I’m walking down stairs one at a time, nursing my sore quad muscles. Yesterday morning Jason and I ran the Columbia Gorge Half Marathon in beautiful Hood River after spending the weekend relaxing at Bonneville Hot Springs.

Five years ago this was the last long race I did before kids. As I crossed the starting line and the rain began pouring down a determination washed over me that I could match my previous time. Despite the fact I was five years younger. And better trained. I convinced myself it’s 90% mental. Winding my way up to the old scenic highway, I gained speed taking in the breathtaking vistas and experienced the ultimate runner’s high under the canopy of colorful fall foliage.  Then I rounded the turnaround and began climbing the gradual hill that seemed to never end.  And I bonked. I finished 15 minutes behind.

Oh well, there’s always the promise of next year. In addition to the scenic course it was worth it for the ceramic medal around my neck, the pistil beanie in the swag bag and the taco bar! at the finish.

Top left: rainbow over downtown Hood River
Top and bottom right: at the finish with our friends Jim and Carrie

We’ve been spoiled with incredible weather this week in Portland. Clear blue skies, sunshine and temperatures in the 50s.

By one o’clock today I couldn’t take it any longer. I wanted to be out in it. Ignoring email and work, I laced up my running shoes, booked out the front door and ran hard for about five blocks before my mind reminded my body, Hey hot shot, you’re out of shape, remember? – you need to go back to your 11 minute mile before you hurt yourself.

I shuffled through the remainder of my three mile run down our neighborhood streets dreaming about getting back into shape and running another marathon. I haven’t trained or ran in a race since before I was pregnant with Carson, and lately I’ve been thinking a lot about getting out there again.

I emailed my old running partner with much enthusiasm about running the Portland Marathon this fall and she suggested getting back in the saddle with something a little less ambitious. Like the Helvetia Half. Voice of reason. So I’m making my proclamation, blogland. On June 12th, I’m doing it! Maybe I can get Jason to join me. Eight years ago this was the first race we ran together. Plus, there’s the promise of Helvetia Tavern Burgers at the finish line.

My last race: Photo taken after finishing the Mt Hood Pacific Crest Trail Ultramarathon, July 2005.

Yesterday morning we dropped the kids off at Nana and Papa Dave’s house and headed out to Hagg Lake for a nice long trail run. Perfect day for it. Overcast, light breeze and with the recent rain the trail was free from dust but not too muddy.

It’d been a while since my last trail run. So long I can’t even remember the time or place. I’m a bit out of shape. But I pushed on and eventually the endorphins kicked in.

Afterward, as we drove through the countryside I tasted the dried salt on my lips. Flashback. To the summer before I was pregnant with Carson. Sundays devoted to long trail runs with my friend Nancy in preparation for the Pacific Crest Trail Ultramarathon. The cool Gatorade as it trickled down my parched throat. Stopping off at Burgerville for the post-run meal complete with marionberry milkshake. Evening spent relaxing, watching Desperate Housewives, nursing sore muscles and falling into a deep sleep.

We didn’t stop off at Burgerville. We returned to Nana and Papa Dave’s for a bbq of cedar plank salmon followed by fresh strawberry pie. During dinner Carson sung us his favorite songs. Hadley had her first taste of salmon. It was a hit. Evening spent watching Jungle Book, nursing Hadley, extra snuggles, and finishing up work before hitting the sack.

photo on the PCT trail, July 2005