If you traveled to another city to run a marathon but had a slightly damaged ankle, would you spend your day held up in your hotel room icing and elevating, or would you walk around (in sensible shoes) and see the sights?  Exactly.

The last time I visited Portland was 18 years ago.  My sister, KJ, and I stopped for a day betwixt hikes on a 3-month cross-country backpacking expedition.  Needless to say, both the city and I have changed a lot since that time.  If memory serves, I think my sis and I grabbed a vegan meal at a place we found in a Lonely Planet book, browsed at some record stores and then slept in our car.  This time around I popped in on the marathon expo, shopped (and actually purchased things), ate non-vegan fare at restaurants found online, and slumbered at the Hilton.

Portland is a really cool, totally unintimidating, very easy city to navigate.  It reminded me of Providence, RI-  which I lived 9 miles southeast of for 8 years.  The place was alive with hip college students, bustling young professionals and an influx of athletes in town for the same reason.  As a suburban housewife, I felt both out of place (the edgiest thing I did was get my falafel lunch from a food truck http://www.foodcartsportland.com ) and completely at home.  I imagined packing up my family in Marin County and migrating here to a more laid back and much less expensive way of life.  But my understanding is that although the weekend was precipitation free and not too cold, this was an atypical weather pattern.  I’m not sure I could hang with all the usual rainfall without going (or driving my loved ones) insane.

After hours of meandering about on foot, my pals and I went back to the hotel for some ankle-icing and a short nap. Following a delicious wine-free (yes, I deserve a pat on the back) carb-rich pasta dinner at Pazzo http://www.pazzo.com, we retired to our room to get our gear organized for the next morning.  I like to take care of anything which requires any thought the night prior to racing.  I pin my bib on my shirt, lie out my clothes, put my socks inside my shoes and stage my water bottle, sunglasses, Garmin, Spibelt, Yurbuds, iPhone and fuel.  It was not until all this was done and I climbed in to bed with an icepack, that I realized just how swollen my ankle had become.  It had reverted to the egg-like deformity it resembled the day after I fell.  Not good.  I freaked out some and began googling all kinds of ankle injury related things.  My friends and I discussed the possibility of me not being able to finish the marathon and I freaked out some more.  Finally, I snapped the laptop closed and forced myself to close my eyes, to slow down my spiraling thoughts and eventually to sleep.