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May 15

Breaking in my new running shoes

This is a warning: About two months ago, my husband bought me a video camera. It’s kind of funny because one of my favorite things about working as a journalist was shooting video.

I also once loved talking to people.

All that kind of died when I started experiencing the extreme anxiety I had last October. And you know what? Tuesday was the first day I took out my pen and paper and interviewed someone since October. For this blog. So I figured the next step would be taking out the video camera my husband bought me in January and shooting video.

Of myself.

This seemed like a good idea at the time, an hour ago. I’m not so sure now.

But I present to you, me. I sound like a Valley Girl (which is OK, because I’m technically from a valley) and talk faster than I should. I also don’t make a lot of sense on the first take. Or maybe at all.

There will be more of these. Especially now since I got the Firewire connection cord I was missing for my new Mac, which, by the way, is NOT the computer behind me in this video. It was shot in my home office. All my race medals and bibs are there.

Don’t laugh too hard. I’m sure my mom will appreciate it.

May 14

Run-nerd moments in Oakland

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Today I ventured into Oakland to visit the See Jane Run store where I met up with the fabulous trio of ladies staffing the store today, including social media manager Kerina. A couple weeks ago, I asked if I could come and chat with the team and ask some questions for a series of blog posts I’d like to do on different running topics.

I’ve been considering doing “ask the expert” posts for awhile, but had never had direct access to the pros in the field. When I found out I was a See Jane Run Ambassador for 2013-14, I KNEW this would be the perfect opportunity to ask questions and get some good advice for runners — newbie to advanced.

I’m excited to report that I got a ton of great information from the ladies at the store today. I’ll be going over my notes and photos in the next couple days to develop a series of “Ask Jane” blog posts. So far the topics will be on warm-weather running, hydration (a big conversation today) and fueling.

I’ll also admit to having some run-nerd moments while speaking with the ladies today. I rarely have a chance to geek out about running and related topics, but today it felt like I was having conversations about running with myself! The staff was incredibly friendly and attentive.

I also partook in a little warm-weather running retail therapy, grabbing up a lightweight Nike Sculpt Tank and an MPG pair of Prelude Knee Tights. Since I’ve been hydrating quite a bit lately, I bought a new Klean Kanteen See Jane Run water bottle with the 5K and half marathon logo.

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A big thanks to Kerina, with me above, for helping me set this up. I’m glad I was able to come into Oakland and get answers to questions every runner has. I’m excited to scour through my notes in the next couple days and start bringing these posts to life.

May 12

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Taking on the Sirena 18 a second time

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Do you ever have one of those days where you truly love running? I mean not just the running part, but also the sense of accomplishment and camaraderie from other runners?

Running is hard. Anyone who tells you differently is either freakishly athletic or lying. Your feet pound the pavement constantly. Your whole body shakes. You can easily feel worn down at the end. In some cases, you feel broken and beaten.

Confession: I used to feel the later of those things and more after a run.

Recent realization: I’m lucky to be able to finish a half marathon, marathon or any other event AT ALL. Not everyone can do it. Not everyone wants to. But being a runner, or any distance, means you’ve committed to the challenge. Finishing that distance means you did it. All the runners I’ve ever meant say that once they finished that “unreachable distance” they want to keep pushing. They want to keep going. We’re damn lucky we can.

That brings me to the Mermaid Series Sirena 18. By far, this is one of the smallest races I’ve done in the three years I’ve been running. And I love it.

It is one of three races I’ve run that focuses on female runners (See Jane Run and the Nike Women’s Marathon are the other two). The goal is to empower women of all sizes and backgrounds to just run. The “just run” part is hard enough. Getting out there is even tougher. Running in front of people is unfathomable for some people.

With all that said, this year’s Sirena 18 went well at the beginning, but kind of fell apart at the end for me. And you know what? That’s OK.

I was hot. The sun was beating down on me. I ran out of Gu at mile 15 (seriously!). I felt like I slowed to a crawl after blazing through the first 11 miles without any issues. And it’s all OK.

Because I went out and ran.

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The day started out in kind of a daze. My 4:30 a.m. alarm got me up quickly. I was out the door by 5:20 a.m. for a round of pick ups of fellow runners in Mountain House. My husband decided last weekend that he wanted to head up to Colusa and see a friend this weekend. That left me by myself for this run, which was OK when my running buddy Sam offered to come with and bring her daughter to run the Mini Mermaid run.

We stopped by and picked up two more runners to head to Quarry Lakes Regional Recreation Area in Fremont.

We were there within an hour, maybe even 45 minutes. My race was the earliest one, starting at 7:30 a.m.

In retrospect, I probably spent too much time in the car hanging out and not enough time stretching and preparing. It was kind of cold outside. I wasn’t exactly in “race mode.” That would come back to haunt me later.

I went and grabbed my race bib in the Sirena 18’s one line. I was also given a pretty nice, though long, shirt.

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At 7:25 a.m., I lined up and met up with my friend Mimi, who was running her first Sirena 18. Mimi and I go way back to my beginning newspaper reporting days. She’s now a director for an influential organization in my hometown. I first met and interviewed her when she was in high school. I’m in awe of all she’s done since then.

I was pretty jazzed to see her.

The race started right on time with a small field, though more people than last year. It started all good.

Mile 1: 10:06 — Good pacing, feeling good. The start is a smooth, conversational pace.

Mile 2: 10:15 — Still in the park, moving along nicely. The sky is overcast. I’m worried a little because my skin burns more when it’s overcast. I wonder if I’ve put enough sunscreen on.

Mile 3: 10:19 — My first Gu for the day. My legs were starting to warm up. We hit the first out and back. I slow for the Gu and take down a little water with it.

Mile 4: 10:19 — Feeling really good here.

Mile 5: 10:07 — The Gu starts to kick in. I feel amazing as we hit the bridge to take us to the longer of the two out-and-back routes.

Mile 6: 10:41 — My legs are feeling good, but I’m also getting tired.

Mile 7: 10:56 — Why am I so tired? At this point, we’re past the beginning of the park. Nowhere to go but out and back now. It’s a long way until the turnaround.

Mile 8: 10:37 — Another Gu.

Mile 9: 11:41 — Slowing through a water stop. It’s starting to get warm and it’s not even that late.

Mile 10: 10:48 — Gu is kicking in now. Feeling good. The turnaround for the longer out-and-back is within this mile. Only eight miles? I have this! (BTW, I may have been imagining it, but I thought someone said “and she runs!” right here. If that was someone out there who reads my blog, speak up!)

Mile 11: 12:13 — Or do I? I get through the first 11 miles in under two hours. It’s good, but I’m starting to really feel the heat here. In fact, it literally feels like someone just flipped a switch. Why? The first part of this section, we run facing away from the sun. On the way back, we run facing the sun. Suddenly it feels so much hotter. And I’m miserable.

Mile 12: 11:58 — I hate you sun. I hate you so much.

Mile 13: 12:55 — SUN. FIERY SUN. BLAH.

Mile 14: 12:59 — I’m hot. I’m miserable. I realize that I’m falling way behind here. I was doing so well. Now it’s falling apart. I take another Gu in between miles 13 and 14.

Mile 15: 12:03 — The Gu kicked in. I feel better, but I’m still hot. And then I realize my toe hurts. My left IT band is also screaming at me. That’s what happens when you don’t stretch. I was really feeling it then.

Mile 16: 12:48 — Between the heat, my IT band and my toe, I was dying. But the bridge back into the park was coming up again. I was elated to see it. I just wanted to finish. I tried to go for another Gu only to realize I was all out. All out. Gone. No more Gu. Well, crap. One of my major mistakes last year was not taking the Gu at mile 16.

Mile 17: 12:08 — Picking it up back into the park. I grabbed a couple glasses of very watered-down Gatorade. It hardly tasted like Gatorade. If outside the park felt steamy, inside the park was like a furnace. Yikes. Everyone around me was commenting on how horrible it felt. We hit an area near the lake and it smelled like fish. I was ready for it to be over.

Mile 17.82: 10:04 — I was a little disappointed as I came into the finish, until I saw Sam’s daughter with a sign she made specifically for me. She was running into the finish area with me, yelling “Go Tara!” OK, you can’t be mad when you see that. Not at all.

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I was handed the charm the Mermaid Series awards participants with. I crossed the finish, grabbed a bottle of water and headed over to Sam. We sat for awhile talking before moving into a more shaded area. I needed to get out of the sun. I was so afraid of baking my skin and turning into a lobster.

Less than five minutes after I finished, I got a text message from the timing company with my official time: 3:22:54.

Even though the last seven miles were not my best, I beat last year’s time by nearly 10 minutes. That’s a good run. Again, I’m damn lucky to be able to run. I’m going to celebrate it.

I’m also going to celebrate Mimi a little too. I saw Mimi a couple times along the course. Each time, she looked cool, collected and serious. Mimi was determined.

I felt honored to cheer Mimi in when she came into the finish. I wish I still had my shoes on because I would have kept running along the chute next to her. I underestimated the thickets in the grass. But I took a cue from my friend’s daughter and started yelling her name the moment I saw her.

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That’s Mimi. Mimi rocked it. I swear I’ve never seen a runner look so serene when she finished. She HAD this run. She OWNED this run. I have no doubt that when she runs a marathon, she’ll conquer it with as much determination as I saw her with out there during the Sirena 18.

One of the amazing things about the running community is that we all support each other. This is even more true at races put on with the intention of supporting female athletes. It’s women encouraging other women. Each woman’s name was said at the finish line. It’s a cheesy cliche, but it’s about “girl power.”

I was kind of on overload with all that support. Between a solid finish time (even though the last seven miles were a struggle), hanging out with my friend and her daughter (and heading out to Fremont with a car full of runners) and being able to cheer a friend on as she came into the finish, I felt proud to be a member of the running community.

I’m not sure even Mimi realizes how seeing her on the course pumped my spirits up, especially when I was struggling to keep lifting my feet. Just seeing someone you know and having them say “doing good” or “you got this” is an affirmation. It was a truly inspiring day for all of the reasons listed.

I’ll say it again: Runners choose this. We choose to endure the long runs, the long hours of workouts and the body pains. We push ourselves to go faster and longer. It makes us a little crazy, I’ll admit. But it also means we are incredibly fortunate.

May 11

Channeling my inner mermaid

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I’m working on my race report for the Mermaid Series Sirena 18 tonight, trying to keep on top of posts for the multiple races I’ll be doing in coming weeks. But I figured I would post a quick update about how it went.

The first 11 miles were great, averaging miles with the 10-minute mark in front of them. I felt really good until about the time I hit the turnaround with a picturesque view of Coyote Hills in the foreground, then I was running straight into the sun. And I felt it. Every single step of the way.

I had to re-read my race report from last year to realize this was a problem for me then too. Basically I melt when running into the sun. Or at least that’s what it felt like today.

My last seven miles were a struggle to keep in 12-minute range, many edging up, but not quite getting to 13.

I felt like I could have performed a lot better in those last seven miles. But I’m really proud of how I did. I took nearly 10 minutes off my time from last year. I had fun. I felt like it went by a lot faster, because it did. And I felt like I knew I could do it from the get go.

So I’m not upset. Just a little disappointed that those last seven miles weren’t as good as the first 11. But getting in 11 miles in under two hours is impressive for me, not matter how I feel about the whole race right now.

I’m proud. And that’s probably the biggest difference between me as runner now and me as a runner a year ago: These things are no longer disappointments. They are just part of the journey.

May 7

Going the distance (at any distance)

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Horrible reproduction, right? Pixelated photos are so 2008. I normally wouldn’t post a photo this grainy on my blog, but it’s one of only about three I have from my first 5K. I wasn’t “into” running then. I hop on the treadmill from time to time, usually only when I was feeling really heavy or unsatisfied with myself.

Running didn’t become part of my life for good until 2010.

But that first 5K was a monumental stepping stone for me. It was the first time I’d run that distance. I trained hard for that race, but not nearly as hard as I should have. I hurt afterwards. I felt miserable at parts during the run itself. But I also felt victorious when I finished it.

I felt on top of the world.

As spring winds down, there are races nearly every weekend now in my area. A lot of people are out running their first 5K, 10K, half marathon or marathons right now.

There are training plans all over the Internet to get runners to that next pivotal step in their running journey. But many of them don’t cover what to do to prepare for the day you walk up to the start line and get ready to go on that first run.

Here are some tips to make it through a race, whether it’s 3.1 miles or 26.2.

HYDRATE PROPERLY THE DAYS BEFORE

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That happy face? By the end of my first 5K I was panting and my legs were cramping up with a pain I had never experienced before. I didn’t know why until another runner mentioned to me, when I was complaining to my husband about how bad I felt (“…like I was hit by a truck…”), that I likely needed to be more hydrated.

I’m always worried about multiple trips to the portable toilet before a race. So in the beginning my strategy was to not drink anything so I could avoid those trips.

Don’t do that. Ever.

In fact, as a runner you should regularly be hydrating. I carry around a 25-ounce bottle of water and usually refill it once or twice a day. This is especially true now that it’s warmer outside. Keep drinking water.

Now that hydration is a regular part of my life, I don’t worry so much about those morning of bathroom trips. I’m not drinking a ridiculous amount of water in the morning to catch up now.

Hydration helps you avoid injury and cramps. It will also help you get through a new distance feeling better at the end. Take it from someone who learned the hard way.

SET REALISTIC GOALS

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That typically means being less concerned about time and more concerned about finishing.

I hate to tell people to “aim low.” But in reality, the first time you run a new distance, you should really train yourself to focus on making it through. I’m one of those people who went out way too fast in my first half marathon. Then, by the end, I looked like the above photo. I was exhausted.

I just wanted to be done.

Then at mile 10, I hit “the wall” and I’ll never forget it. My chest felt tight. My body felt like it was shutting down.

But I went into that race with one goal: finish it.

My second goal was to finish in under three hours. I figured I’d factor in some extra time as padding.

When I finished in 2:35:36 I accomplished both those goals.

I know people who make grand plans for finishing races, saying they want to have an instant PR or qualify for Boston during their first marathon. Some people do. More mortal types like me don’t. And that’s not a reason to throw in the towel.

DON’T THROW IN THE TOWEL WHEN IT GOES BAD

I’ve seen it happen. In fact, at a recent race, I recognized the symptoms of a Did Not Finish (DNF) happening right next to me as I hit mile 8 in the Oakland Half Marathon.

A woman next to me was making pretty good time. But that was my perception of it. Not hers.

She was running at a conversational pace with a friend. And she starting talking about dropping out of the race.

“I’m not going to make my 2:10 goal,” she said. “I wanted my first half to be a decent one.”

OK. A 2:10 would be a PR for me. If I could get myself to a 2:10 half marathon, I’d be over the moon happy.

Not her. She wasn’t. I ran ahead, setting my own personal PR. I waited around at the finish to see if that woman and her friend came through the chute. I saw her friend only a couple minutes after me. I never saw the women. That’s not to say she didn’t finish, but it kind of stuck with me.

I know a person who had two DNF in half marathons before she could finish one. She gave up halfway through the first two times because, in her words, she “couldn’t complete the distance.” She had run the 10-milers. She’d trained for 14 weeks. But she couldn’t do it come race morning.

The moment you start to doubt is the moment it can all go bad. Don’t let a couple bad miles ruin a race, especially if it’s the first time you’ve run the distance. I promise, you’ll feel better when you finish. And you’ll likely want to sign up for another one.

NOTHING NEW ON RACE DAY

Gear is important. You will likely carry something with you during a run, even if it’s just your car keys. I carry more stuff the longer the distance. But the key is knowing what works for you and just how little or how much you need to get through your run. Here’s a breakdown of what I carry with me over the four distances:

5K — Phone, usually in the pocket of my capris.

10K — iFitness belt, phone, two packs of Vanilla Bean Gu, small 12-ounce water bottle

Half marathon — iFitness belt, phone, five packs of Gu, 20-ounce water bottle

Marathon — iFitness belt, phone, $5 (never know when you’ll need money), 9 packs of Gu, 20-ounce water bottle

I also plan out what I am going to wear and test it at least twice on a longer run. For my half marathon, I wore a nice Dri-Fit shirt that I had worn on numerous eight and 10-mile runs during training. I also wore a pair of capris that I had run quite a few times too.

There’s a reason a lot of people don’t wear the race shirt on race day. It’s not because it’s “lame” as some people think. It’s actually because untested race wear is definitely not recommended. You could chafe. You could also be incredibly uncomfortable the entire race.

Just avoid the new things. And make sure you have tested and prepared to use the gear you are bringing.

PREP YOUR RACE GEAR THE NIGHT BEFORE

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I post photos of my race gear all the time. I also have a really bad anxiety problem. So if I don’t have everything perfectly ready the night before, I usually freak out a little in the morning.

I lay all of my gear out the night before just to make sure everything is there. It honestly saves time in the morning when I’m not rushing to find things, like my Garmin or my Body Glide.

I’ve done it so often that I just kind of go through the motions now. I also back my “after” bag with everything I need for after the race.

GET A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP

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I can’t stress this enough. But this is also one of the hardest things to do.

Why? Race day nerves often keep you up longer than you’d like to be. I know. I’ve been there. I’d like to say it gets better after you do a couple races of your “new” distance, but the reality is I’m still nervous before every race I run. I’ve just learned to cope better with the nerves (sometimes).

I prepare the day before a race by not sleeping in too late, which could keep me up at night, and generally staying off my feet as much as possible. I also try to settle down and watch television for an hour or so before I’m supposed to go to bed. It helps me relax and take my mind off of everything. I almost always in bed by 11 p.m.

JUST HAVE FUN

Another hard one when it’s your first time. You train hard. You put a ton of pressure on yourself to make it happen. Just go out and have a good time on race day. Don’t second guess your training (because by then you can’t do anything about it), just go out and run. You’ll be relieved once you shake the nerves out. But you’ll also be incredibly excited when it’s over.

Have a good time. Enjoy your day, because you never forget your first.

May 5

Saturday, in photos

I’m thankful for calendar reminders that alert me when I forget to write something down on my actual planner. Case in point: I signed up for a symposium on data and journalism sometime in April. Then I kind of forgot about it. I knew, just knew, I had something going on this weekend, but I couldn’t remember what.

Queue emails sent from event organizers. And a Google calendar alert.

I’m so incredibly glad I didn’t miss it. I would have kicked myself if afterwards I realized it too late (or even worse, realized it as it started).

Sam actually was heading into the Bay Area on Saturday morning, so I hitched a ride to a BART station near Castro Valley to get to the University of California, Berkeley campus. The event was free to J-School alumni (super stoked about that).

I think all the walking I did qualifies as some sort of exercise. Yes?

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The main entrance to campus. A powwow was being set up there. Later in the day, I accidentally walked into a Queer Conference while trying to navigate to one of the cleaner bathrooms on campus I know (most exciting thing about that was the bathroom I went into was designated a “gender friendly” bathroom, welcoming men and women, I thought that was pretty cool). In total, I saw three homeless guys napping on lawns. And I saw a drama open house/demonstration being set up at the base of a hall.

All those reasons? That’s why I love Berkeley.

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I made my way up from the BART station in downtown Berkeley. There’s no real direct route up though campus, really there are no direct routes through campus in general.

So I slowed down a little and took in Berkeley’s park-like atmosphere.

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I also got some walking hill work done. Berkeley’s campus has a lot of hills. Some brutal and mostly upward. Others rolling. I wasn’t much of a runner while I went to school here, but imagine the hill training possibilities on the campus?

It’s no wonder I used to see the ROTC programs running through campus.

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The all-day long event brought out an array of speakers. There were six sessions, with question and answer periods. There was a breakfast buffet and a networking lunch, too.

The topics included a detailed look into policy in the afternoon. Questions of ethics were broached too. One of the things that came up a couple times was new ethical issues in data presentation and journalism that weren’t even considerations a couple years ago.

I didn’t go for credit at school or anything. (I filled my outside of class required time earlier this semester with the three-day journalism conference where I literally work all hours I’m awake.) I did it because some of the key concepts taught can be applied to my community college classroom. I’m already writing some of it into the curriculum for next fall.

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Speaking of lunch, these cookies were served. I’m not sure exactly what they were (don’t worry, the green on the plate is from a pesto pasta), but they were delicious. It was a brown sugar, pecan melt-in-your-mouth kind of cookie. I’ll admit it, I ate two. I was tempted to grab another one. I really, really wanted to.

The event ended at about 3:45 p.m. I realized I likely couldn’t get back to the train to make the train I thought I would. So I decided to take a longer stroll through campus. That included taking in some of my favorite sights.

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The Campanile is one of those landmarks that can be seen throughout the entire Bay Area. The first time I visited the campus in 2004, when I was considering applying for admission, my husband and I went up and got a bird’s eye view of the area. I remember going up again, right before I graduated and looking around. It was one of those capstones of my two years in graduate school.

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Sather Gate is about as well known as the plaza in which is stands. Sproul Plaza was the center of the Free Speech Movement once upon a time. You walk through the area, even now with it’s fenced-in buildings and can’t help but feeling connected to history. But there’s a sense of history nearly everywhere you step at Berkeley.

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I headed back down to the BART station and made my train. Despite sitting most of the day, I had kind of walked all over the place to get to and from the symposium.

The train ride back was less eventful than the one there, which involved watching a guy to pull ups on the overhead hand bars in a train car. By 5:30 p.m. I was back in car heading toward home.

That’s when Sam asked if I wanted sushi.

Of course I wanted sushi.

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That’s the orders of Sam, her son and me. Her son ordered this roll called the “Titanic.” There was so much fish in it that it kind of fell apart everywhere. That’s why it has the name it does, Sam’s son told me. I got a deep-fried California roll because I really wanted something with a tempura texture.

After a long day in and around the Bay Area, it was glorious.

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A little wine and a mini True Blood marathon later and I was in bed exhausted. I’m supposed to run mid-length to long run today, but I’m holding out until later this afternoon or this evening. I’m going to try to at least hit eight miles. I kind of feel like I have to do some sort of running today to at least put a dent in all the good food I ate yesterday.

The cookie isn’t going to burn itself off. Neither is the amazing sushi.

I’m kind of using this weekend as a rest for the next two. On May 11, I have the Mermaid Run Sirena 18. On May 18, I’m flying to Portland for the night with Sam to run the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon.

Then I get a week of downtime before three weekends full of racing.

Things are about to get very hectic.

May 2

A not-so-subtle reminder

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I haven’t really talked about my broken arm since the doctor gave me an “all clear” weeks ago. The mobility is far better than it was. It feels, mostly, normal. In fact, it really doesn’t bother me most the time.

Then I get a not-so-subtle reminder that it’s not quite at full operating capacity.

It usually comes when I’m in the middle of a cross-training activity. It starts as a dull pain at the site of the fracture. It’s not really noticeable at first. Then there’s a feeling of faint pressure. It’s followed by an all-at-once feeling that something is tearing the bone apart from the inside.

Needless to say, I’m not healed completely.

I can’t even do a 30-minute Jillian Michaels workout video with my friend Sam without saying “nope, can’t do this one” when we get to a move that would involve my left elbow.

I knew this would be the case.

The doctor didn’t promise me a miracle healing or even guarantee that I’d be back to my normal, push-up able self within a month. He said it would take time. He also advised me not to push as much pressure on it as I would my right arm.

So when Michaels instructs Sam and I go into a cobra position (or whatever it is, I don’t know, that 30-minutes kicks my butt), I shouldn’t be getting as much into it as I am. But I tend to push things like this a little far.

I think my arm is better. The truth is, it’s not.

In fact, the doctor told me to watch out when I run even more so because the likelihood is that if I fall on that same spot again, which I’d likely do because my luck is that great, I could completely fracture my radial head all over again.

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Doesn’t it look all healed up and unsuspecting? The pressure in that stupid little bone is ridiculously painful. I’ve never experienced “pressure” pain before. When it gets really bad, I turned to my “breakthrough-only” Ibuprofen. That’s pretty bad.

Even better, apparently I haven’t learned my lesson from all of the doctor visits, the week of a sling and the inability to move my arm completely for more than a month.

As Jennie and I were finishing up our six-mile run today, we were back into the neighborhood area where we run in front of houses. About four miles of our run twist down tree-lined paths by my house. The neighborhoods are basically at the beginning and end of the run as we make our way back to my house.

“I try to avoid these since you fell,” she said to me, gesturing down at a lip of a driveway.

Of course, I turned around. And looked down. As I was running.

Basically, I did all of the things I did when I fell in March. I didn’t fall tonight. But it made me realize a couple things: 1) I didn’t even realize that I had fallen over a lip of a driveway, but now that I think about it, yeah, that’s what happen. 2) I really should start paying more attention to the sidewalk while I’m running.

May 1

Pay the price for a porta-potty?

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If you’ve been a runner long enough, you’ve learned to love the portable toilets that get set out en masse on race day.

If you’re like me, the relationship was strained at first. You hemmed and hawed over it. You waited for the real bathrooms, the ones where the toilets flush and there is real plumbing, before you would even try a “blue bucket of stench.”

But then you missed a start time. No big deal if there was chip timing. Until it was a big deal and you were literally the last person to start the race.

So you likely conceded to the plastic throne. You didn’t get too comfortable. You hovered. (Seriously, what I’m saying here isn’t anywhere near TMI, we’ve all done this before).

Finally, you realized all of that dancing around was stupid. You gave in. You broke down and just handled your business. Now you aren’t afraid of it. You even have no qualms about getting in and taking awhile.

You’ve entered into a relationship with the portable toilet. Even if it’s only one that’s comfortable on race day.

Running does funny things to your psyche. It makes something once so incredibly gross into a must-have essential, especially if you get the sudden urge to go all of the sudden at mile 15 in a marathon.

At the San Luis Obispo Marathon in early April, I literally had a moment where I was asking whatever divine force was guiding me to just let the little slider on the door for one of the two upcoming portable toilets be green.

“Please, please, please!” I said to myself as I ran up to the aid station near the turnaround at the farthest point out in the course. When I realized it was open, I jumped in more quickly than I can describe.

Now, I’ve done some bonding in toilet lines. Last year at Rock ‘n’ Roll San Diego me and my running buddy Sam literally waited for 45 minutes for the pleasure (or not?) of using one of the hundreds of moveable Johns lined up near the corrals. With something near 25,000 people running the race, those lines seemed to go on forever.

Lines have a way of increasing my anxiety and triggering rapid heart rate, sweaty palms and general freak out in me. I hate waiting. My last panic attack was at a doctor’s office where all they had to do was check my blood pressure. Needless to say, after 45 minutes when someone finally came out (after every patient around me, including people who’d come after me had left), I was trying to suppress the sheer terror eating me alive. Anxiety is fun, folks.

So when I received an email from the Competitor Group a couple weeks ago announcing an “upgraded” race package that included reserved parking, private restrooms, private gear check and a post-race brunch, I’ll admit I was tempted.

I still am. For $35, though, I’m still not quite sure.

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The email doesn’t specify real bathrooms or portable toilets. I’ve seen the “VIP” area at other Rock ‘n’ Roll events and there are portable toilets. The series also has connections with Brooks to provide flushable toilets for some runners as well. (I posted a question asking as much on the Rock ‘n’ Roll Portland Facebook page.)

Call me crazy, but there’s something incredibly reassuring about “private restrooms” at the start.

I’d honestly rather not wait through the lines and deal with the mad rush. In fact, one of the reasons I’ve done so well at recent races is that I’ve had a string of good luck in the portable toilet area.

At Pasadena, there were plenty of toilets. Sam and I basically had never-used stalls the morning of. At Oakland, there’s always enough toilets flanking the side of the start corral. I think that’s because no one has quite figured out they are all right there just yet, let’s keep it that way Oakland. In San Luis Obispo, my early marathon start meant that all the half marathoners would be rushing to the toilets when I was starting mile three of my 26.2 mile run.

My next race is the Mermaid Sirena 18. Last year, NO ONE used the portable toilets in the small 18-miler field. I’m told later on there were lines for the half, but not for the longer distance. I’m looking forward to that again.

Portland will be my first larger-scale race since CIM (which is known for it’s long, twisting line of commodes at the start). After that, I’m doing See Jane Run in Alameda. The bathroom lines were long there in 2011, but also moved incredibly fast.

I kind of want the “private bathrooms.” I don’t want to worry about missing the start, or freaking out about waiting in line, especially in an area I’ve never been before. I don’t want to chance it.

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All these images? I, apparently, like to take photos of portable toilets and store them in perpetuity on my iPhone. The one immediately above is one of my favorites. One guy, nine choices. Do you know how often that happens at a race? Not very.

The price is what’s getting me, though. If Sam and I were planning to park, it would be one thing. We are doing public transportation instead from the airport to the expo to the hotel, which is less than a mile from the race start (another reason I wonder if I really need to buy special bathroom arrangements).

I’ve paid $20 for buffet brunches. I’ll likely use the bag check, since we’re coming from California and won’t go back to the hotel until all the festivities are done. But I’m also never really that hungry until about an hour after I finish a race.

So I keep questioning whether it’s worth it. I told my husband he could “gift” it to me for my birthday (the day after Portland). He didn’t seem convinced.In fact, he was pretty sure this race, much like it’s sister race in Pasadena (second photo), would have ample enough bathrooms at the start-line to make my little porta-potty appreciating heart content.

We’ll see. Until then, I’m still flirting (is that appropriate for a blog post about bathrooms?) with the idea of “upgrading” my race/bathroom experience.

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