Portland Marathon

Okay, it's time to talk about the Portland Marathon.
This was my most disappointing race to date. Now with 3 weeks of perspective, I totally get what happened, and with another race under my belt, I can move on.
My intention this year was to run the Lake Tahoe Marathon. I was going to run it with my friend John Capurso, and Sean had hoped to run the half marathon ore even the 10k with John's wife Tanya. I registered months ago, because I like the commitment, and reserved a few days in the host hotel, a schmancy resort hotel. It seemed like a great little vacation, and would allow us a few days also to visit some of our people in the Bay Area as well.
But this year has been wrought with some unexpected expenses for the house, the cars, and with our oldest daughter just starting college, it seemed like a bad idea to drop a couple grand on a vacation just a couple weeks into the school year. Also, John had to drop out of the race, and it just all kind of fell apart.
I was pleased to realize that I could still capitalize on my training, as the Portland Marathon was the very same day as Tahoe. I wasn't excited about the race, as this was to be my 4th running of this race - my third time running the full marathon, and I also ran the half marathon a number of years back.
The thing is, Portland is a pretty city, but the race is not a pretty race. Instead of staying on the waterfront, in cute neighborhoods, or crossing our many bridges, it is a big out-and-back through the industrial northwest district, and then a tedious stretch out highway 30 toward the St. John's Bridge. I love the SJB, but I'm not sure it's worth 4 miles of blech to get to it. Anyway, I digress. I wasn't excited about the race, but I was glad to have a marathon to do, as I had not run a spring marathon because of So Many Kids' Activities this spring).
As the weeks progressed, I decided that the good thing about running Portland was that it would be a pretty easy chance to re-qualify for Boston. I ran Boston in 2013, and would like to return in 2018 and get the full, non-bomb experience. Anyway, I got a little excited about using this marathon for that purpose.
As the day approached, it looked pretty good. The weather had been crummy, but they had race day predicted to be a clear, cool little oasis in the otherwise dreary weekly forecast. My nutrition was on point, and I was a few pounds above where I like to race, but my weekly speed work was coming closer and closer to hitting my target. I felt confident that I could hit my goal pace of 3:44, which should have been an attainable goal for me. My PR was 2 years ago in Chicago at 3:34, so I figured I could make it with an easy window for Boston qualification (I would need 3:55).
The day before the race, they changed the forecast from clear and cool to stormy and windy. Yuck. But okay, I've done it before. Race morning, I woke up early, ate, and got myself downtown in plenty of time. It wasn't raining while we were waiting for the gun, which was nice, and everything seemed to be fine. I consulted my Garmin regularly, making sure I didn't over-run the early miles. I stayed between 8:10-8:25 pretty well, and felt strong. I am so familiar with the course, I didn't really look for mile markers in the early miles, although I noted that it said 30 minutes as I passed the 5K mark. I thought that was odd, and figured maybe that was a bit off, and dismissed it from my mind. By the time I passed the 7 mile marker, I was just in front of a pacer group, and they were saying they showed 7.5 miles. I chatted with them a moment, mentioning that I was showing more miles and faster time than the course was giving me. I was wondering why I felt like I was working so hard and showing a slower time than my efforts indicated. At around mile 8, it started to rain. After mile 10, the course turns and heads into the northwest neighborhood, and we got hit with a strong headwind. I started losing my confidence, but determined to press on to the half, and check in there. 
Once done with the interesting part for many miles, I went into the sparse, boring, Highway 30, and arrived at the halfway mat. I was dismayed to see that although I had been monitoring my pace rather obsessively, my halfway point target of 1:51 to 1:52 was an alarmingly off-pace 1:55. This is where I lost my race, right up in my head. I considered calling my husband at this point, and asking him to meet me north of the SJB and picking me up, but I figured, that's where the course gets interesting again, so maybe I should just press on. I don't think I really would have opted out, but I resolved to take it a mile at a time. At mile 16, on the approach to the bridge, I texted my husband that I wasn't going to make my goal time, and to stay tuned. 
Suffice it to say, things didn't get better. I ran along through mile 21, where my stomach started to give me trouble, and I felt nauseous. I took about 5 or 6 walk breaks, but really just fell apart at the end. My stomach cramping was so bad that I had to walk at mile 26. I ran it in, and managed to not throw up just yet. I got my medal and my t-shirt, but not my BQ. My official time was something in the 4:15 zone. 30 minutes slower than my goal time. My worst marathon to date.
The worst thing about it is that I couldn't even say why I did so poorly. I felt so good earlier that day, and I'd been more successful in the rain. I couldn't figure out why I felt like I was running 8:15, when I was apparently running 9-something. I got down on myself, figuring that I had been overly confident, and maybe I was aging out of my ability to obtain that pace anymore. I thought I didn't know how to feel my pace anymore. Pretty dramatic, but I'm that kind of chick. I didn't even remember the pacing inconsistencies from the early part of the race. I just thought it was me.
When I found out about the mistakes made by the marathon in the first mile, that caused us to run an extra half mile, I was irritated, but also relieved. It meant that my defeat was really the mental part of the marathon. When I gave up, thinking I was 3-4 minutes behind my goal, I had really been about 30 seconds ahead. I have no doubt that the mental defeat led to the physical breakdown. The Portland Marathon went back and corrected my pace to eliminate the extra half mile, but it brought me to 4:05. My poor second half sealed my fate.
I have more chances to qualify for Boston next year, and I feel confident that I will, but this one goes down as a disappointment. Next time I'll just trust my vibe and my devices a bit more.