Yesterday, I ran my second Chicago Marathon. And it was a disaster. I had done a very poor job training this year and spent most of the summer goofing off with friends and imbibing a bit too much on the weekends! Marathoners typically want to work up to a 20-mile long run three weeks before the race. My longest was 17 miles. I knew I was in trouble.
When I ran the marathon in 2005, I was fully prepped and trained. I even did a 22-mile run two weeks before the race... just for fun. I ended up finishing in 4:36 that year, which is not bad for a first timer.
I went to bed on Saturday night a little nervous. I had a dream that I was running the marathon in the pouring rain in my Tory Burch flats. Miz. I woke up at 2am and struggled to get back to sleep.
I woke up again at 5am, got dressed, forced some food down (eating that early in the morning is just awful), and made my way to the race.
I crossed the start line at 8:02am. The start of the race was not bad. The first 10 miles actually felt great. The crowds were amazing as usual, and I discovered that Lady Gaga is awesome running music! Then I felt a pain in my right foot that lasted throughout the entire race. I was in rough shape.
Mile 11 - I stopped by an aid tent and contemplated getting my foot checked. Instead I stretched out my legs, took a bathroom break and went on my way. I am stubborn like that!
At this point, I thought maybe I had a stress fracture. But I pushed through it. I knew my dad was waiting for me at mile 18. So I told myself I would run until then and then drop out of the race. When I saw my dad 50 feet ahead of me, I had a burst of adrenaline that kept me going until mile 20. My dad was a saint. He helped me keep pace, brought me frozen paper towels, grapefruit slices, and a frozen water bottle. It was about 88 degrees outside, and the sun was beating down. It was Hot.
When we got to mile 20, my legs gave out. Completely. It hurt to move. The last 5.5 miles were a painful combination of walking and jogging. Actually, walking and limping would be a more accurate description. We had people on the street spraying us down with water hoses and spectators handing out ice cubes, salty pretzels and even cupcakes. And we all know I never say no to cupcakes!
When I saw the sign that told me I had a half mile left, I shook off the pain, looked at my dad and we both ran towards the finish line. Some people cry out of joy when they finish. I was overjoyed with happiness that it was OVER. I got my finisher medal and then collapsed shortly afterward. Today I am in very rough shape and can barely walk. But it was completely worth it!!
Thank you to all my friends and family for supporting me this year. And huge thanks to those who donated to Children's Memorial Hospital. And biggest thanks to my dad, who pushed me to the end. I would have never finished without him!
So the lesson here is: if you sign up for a marathon, train properly for it so you don't want to die on race day!!
Chicago Marathon, you're a pain in the ass, but I just can't quit you. See you in a few years.