Pound! Pound! Pound! My feet hit the concrete.  Each foot is pushing hard to get past the other.  Whoosh.  Whoosh.  Whoosh.  The cold air rushes past my face.  Thud.  Thud.  Thud. I can feel my heart pumping.  Ahh yes…. Now I remember why I do this.  The exhilaration!  The momentum!  The adrenaline!  I FEEL ALIVE!

Flashback to a few hours earlier, and I was hating my alarm for having the audacity to wake me up.  It was the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning- and I’m not a morning person.  I hadn’t been running lately and I was making excuses.  I was wondering why I had signed up- and paid money- to run an 8k when maybe I should just do it at some other point in the day…  You know… when my eyes didn’t feel like I had to prop them open with toothpicks?

But as I descended onto Naito Parkway with thousands of others that morning, my tiredness quickly disappeared and excitement started to take its place.  Music, beer and good cheer filled the air. The buzz of positive energy was contagious.  I could feel it running through my veins.  “Oh right… Now I remember why I like this,” I said to my friend Jessica with a smile.  We were running together: she the seasoned veteran, myself the amateur newbie.

“Racers are you ready?!”  I hear the RJ (race jockey?) yell into the microphone as he blasts 70’s funk music into the air.  I snap to the present.  All at once myself and swarms of other runners are crossing the starting line.  The race has begun.  I hear the SWAT girls call our names from the crowd “Lauren!” “Jessica!”  We turn around and give them a wave.

Mile 1: I feel like I am struggling to keep up with Jessica.  Her pace is faster than mine and I am pushing myself to keep up.  To keep my head in it, I try to concentrate on my breathing.  “In and out.”  “One foot in front of the other.” “You can do it.”  “Push yourself.”  These are the mantras I am playing in my head.

Mile 2: A guy with nothing on but a gold thong and green paint all over his bare body passes me.  That is enough to distract me from the hill I am climbing.  Thank you gold thong!

Mile 3:  I am utterly caught in the moment: the trees, the fresh air, the people cheering us on from the side lines, the chance to run free through the streets of downtown.  It’s a completely different way to see Portland- and I am loving it.

Mile 4:  A guy dressed as a woman, including wig and belly shirt passes.  He is holding his tape player from the 1980’s and blasting tunes for the rest of us to jam to.  Oh yeah!  Pump that jam!  I feel like doing a little dance as I run.

Mile 5: Shots of beer are being offered.  We are running down hill and the end is near. The crowds below are becoming louder.  I can see the finish line.  Jessica starts to pick up the pace again and I am pushing myself to finish strong.

Pound!  Pound!  Pound!  Whoosh!  Whoosh! Whoosh!  Thud! Thud!  Thud!

Finish Line: (8K): Jessica and I sprint to the finish.  We did it.

SWAT. LOVE. RUN. READ. LAUGH.  SMILE. TRY. BE.  GIVE.  BLOOM.

Thank you SWAT.  Thank you Shamrock.  We’ll be back next year!

-Lauren Green

lauren@swatpdx.com