Chicago Marathon

Steve, Rachele, Lily, Kristen & Tim

This Sunday a bunch of us ran the Chicago Marathon.  There were 40,000 runners from all over the wolrd.  It was also one of the colder races in Chicago's recent history.  With the windchill, it was 39 degrees.  The race started in Grant Park and you can imagine the huge crowd.  Amazingly, it was pretty organized and people were generally polite since we all had the same goal...run a 26.2 mile tour around Chicago.  It did take us about 20 minutes to walk the one block from the runner entrance to our start corral.

As the gun went off, each corral started smoothly.  The elite runners, the top 100, competitive, preferred I, preferred II, then the open group.  It only took me about 2 1/2 minutes to reach the start from my lineup in the corral...that is an extremely fast start.

The energy at the beginning of the race is beautiful.  Races always start with the star spangled banner.  You are surrounded by people who have trained for months and are excited about this day.  Some are focused on beating their previous PR (personal record), some just love the physical challenge and do this to stay in shape, some have met adversity in their lives and this is an emotional/spiritual act for them.  And then there are some that are doing this for a cause...either to help a charity or something deeply personal.

Okay, I am a social runner.  I've won my age group at a 10K once at a very small race...when there were only two of us competing.  A qualifying time for the Boston Marathon is in the distant future for me and I am just thankful that I have the physical and mental ability to complete the distance.  Mental ability?  Yes.  Supposedly, a body can do 22 miles without a lot of training.  Yes, our bodies are much stronger than most of us give it credit for.  The real challenge is making a concerted effort to keep going after you are physically and emotionally drained.  Many runners jokingly say that a marathon is a 10K (6.2 mile) race with a 20 mile warmup and the real halfway point is around 20 miles.  No matter who you are, even an elite runner, the last few miles are brutal.  The faster runners have learned to push through the pain and trust that their bodies will make it to the finish.

What did I see on the course?  I saw excited little kids cheering and giving the runners high fives.  I saw inspirational signs.  I saw photos of loved ones on runner's backs...those that they were running for.  There were hundreds of volunteers just there to support us.  There were new runners who were experiencing this feeling for the first time.  Then it all changed around mile 18.  This is when training, experience and a little luck come into play.  Everyone has good and bad days, but you hope that with good training and a good attitude your number of bad days is rare.  There is a little less talking on the course, now.  I'm starting to see people on the side cramping and desperately trying to get their muscles to move again.  Everyone once in a while I hear someone yell to themselves..."Come on" or "Dig Deep" or whatever mantra they need to get them there.  This is when I think, "Isn't 20+ miles good enough?" and that 0.2 miles after 26 is just ridiculously cruel. 

Pre-race injury

This is the part that is not fun at all.  And this is where I learn the most...where I find myself.  My body is screaming to stop and is having an all out battle with my mind.  My stubborness doesn't want to throw away the 20 or so hard miles of work that I just completed and my mind is telling my body to suck it up and trust all the logic I learned in training.  Now, I'm starting to remember bits of stats and advice...anything to help me through the last five miles.  I remember quotes from Jeff Galloway, who has a run/walk program for beginners.  He advocates short walk breaks from the beginning to give your legs a break and use different muscles.  The stat that stuck in my mind was "after 20 miles, the walk breaks don't help and you should just run."  This is where I struggle with trust and faith.  My body says that's a lie, but now walking doesn't feel much better than running.  My mile times are slipping and my inner chatter to motivate myself picks up.    I also have to tune out anything that may irritate me or slow me down.

Now, I'm extremely emotional.  When I see a runner at the side who has to quit the race (they just physically can't go on), I see the despair in their eyes.  I can't cry, because I need every bit of mental toughness to make it to the end.  I also have to let go and pay close attention to what my body can do right now.  It doesn't matter what I've done in past races and I can't get overly angry about not hitting an aggressive goal, nor can I be too cocky that I'm doing well.  This is when I develop courage.  This is no longer a physical event...my desire to finish is fighting against the exhaustion.  I move into a meditative state to get to that last mile.  And if you've run a marathon before, you know that you don't feel that "you're almost there" or "it's all downhill" or that "it's the home stretch."  That last mile is loooong!

And yes, it is worth it to pass through the chute and cross the finish line.  Someone needs to take my timing chip off because bending down to touch your toes is a long way down at this point.  My walk is jerky.  I'm hungry and the apple the volunteer hands me is now my favorite food.  I REALLY want that finishers medal.  Where's my blanket because I'm shivering?  Post-race photo...sure, why not and I don't even care that I look like a crazed, hungry animal that may collapse.  Where is my family?  Where are my friends and how did they do?  And please, legs, keep moving so I can get my gear, put on my jacket and start calling and finding everyone.

Kristen & Lily really need to shower!

Today, I'm still walking funny.  My knee is still pretty bruised from a fall I had last week.  I welcome the soreness because it reminds me of the work I just accomplished.  Also, now I'm grinning because I have a new PR to break and I've chosen my next race.  It was worth it and yes, you can do it, too, if you really want it.  Five years ago I couldn't run around the track without being winded, and I'm very thankful that I am healthy enough to run.

Congratualtions to my friends, Kristen, Lily, Steve, Tim & Mary who all reached a new PR, too!  According to the experts, we need one day of active recovery (light exercise) for each mile of racing.  So, training starts November 17th, right?

Rachele, Kristen & Lily at Giordano's.

Good effort runners!  Photos will be posted soon.