The first weekend in October of 2008, I traveled to Portland with my girlfriend Jo. Our hears were set on trying to do a marathon. The day before the big day we checkout out the local farmer's market at Portland State University
Took Charlie to a fabulous dog park
And then we checked in, received our numbers, and went to a friends house for some pasta dinner and then off to bed.
I set my alarm like always to wake us up at 5:00 am so that we would have time to get up, eat, get ready, and drive 40 minutes to the starting line.
At 7:05 am I shot out of bed, looked at my phone clock and started to cry. The race had started 5 minutes ago. I called my husband in tears, said a zillion four letter words, and ran around the house throwing my clothes on. Jo and I were out of the house in under 5 minutes, stopped at a grocery store and grabbed some bananas and drove like hell to the starting line. By the time we arrived we were like almost an hour and a half behind. So we started running..

and running...

and running.

And we just kept passing people. I am so glad we didn't give up cause even though we were dead last we ended up somewhere in the middle.

