What Did I Get Myself Into- My Marathon Story.

Spiritually- I fell in love with the idea of being in the back.  I loved talking to people, getting to truly thank the police, the volunteers, the random person cheering and smiling. Drag queens, running French fries, amazing aid station volunteers all became a part of the party, not just a blur on the way to a PR or a BQ (Boston Qualifier).  I'm sure Lauren was ready to kill me, because I said it about 50 times, "I'm having a blast, this is fun."

I watched the walking wounded push and struggle to put one foot in front of another, as if every step was their last.  There was a camaraderie in the BOP, that is amazing, because in the BOP it isn't a race, it's a matter of making it.

I made it my mission to become the cheerleader for anyone who looked like they were struggling.  By the end I was screaming at anyone who would listen.  "Come on, the finish line is 2 miles away, we are going to kick it's ass!!!!!"  The spirit and determination of these people made me forget about the pain I was in and I was in pain.

Don't get me wrong this was long, the competitor in me wanted to speed up, to see how hard I could push to the finish.  At the 4 hour mark, I looked at our running buddy "Crazy Barb" and said "we have to be out here for another fu--ing 2 hours, are you kidding me!"  Which she politely replied "get tough princess, how do you think Lauren feels!" She was right, I was jumping up and down, singing High School Musical songs and telling jokes, looking back, I'm not sure if I was helping Lauren or pissing her off?  Either way, she never let it show.

Empty Streets in the BOP

Physically- Have I mentioned I am an Ironman?  I knew I was going to be hard, but 6-7 hours on your feet without any training, hurts!  Besides sprinting back and fourth from my constant pee breaks, my heart rate never went that high. My feet however were another deal completely.  At about hour 5, I felt a pain that rocketed from my foot to my eyes and made them water, I was sure that I had fractured my foot, my privates were chafing like a neglected baby, there was no food and I was starving(maybe they should mix the Taste of Chicago with the Marathon???).  At Mile 24, while I was running with Doug from Detroit, I grabbed a cup of Gatorade, slugged it down and threw it up all over the place.  "Guess I'm done drinking Gatorade, " I said to Doug as I wiped off my face.
 
The inner monologue that announced earlier "I was going to do this regardless," well he was rebelling and very mad at me.  "What the hell am I doing out here, this is a friggin' blog!  Who cares!  Use your press pass, grab a cop and get out of here!"  It crossed my mind several times.  "Who cares!"
 
Every marathon runner has highs and lows, it's part of the deal.  At one of my lowest points, when my commonsense decided to make one last plea and get me into a cab, it was Lauren's simple words that gave me the boost that I needed.  She had been quiet for a while, digging deep to keep moving, as we passed under a sign honoring fallen police, she quietly looked up and said " That is so sad, God bless them."  Like a cold glass of water in the face it hit me.  They gave their lives to defend the streets we were running in, I was lucky to be out there at all.

I was back and I cared, Lauren cared, Barb cared, Doug from Detroit cared!  That's the point, of this blog, of the marathon, of endurance sports, of the people in the BOP, if we didn't care about our sports, then nobody else would. The Pace of Chicago is our community, this was our day.  Sure Sammy  Wanjiru made $175,000 for two hours work, but if you put him in a club with Brian Urlacher, I would almost guaranteed that nobody would notice Sammy, despite the fact that he is a better athlete and much tougher.  Endurance athletes participate because they love the sport and the individual challenge. 

"Amazing Barb" Saves The Day

6 plus hours into the race we were near the end.  Lauren was spent, Doug from Detroit was fighting the tendonitis that hobbled him and dozens of other athletes were fighting their demons to keep going.  I saw people fall down both mentally and physically, but there was one person who never showed any signs of cracking, she was there for Lauren, but inspired me as well, it was "Crazy Barb."  Barb, a friend of Lauren, is getting ready for her first Ironman and needed to get an 18 mile training run in.  The closer you get to the big day, the more important every run and ride gets, people get manic about making sure to hit these marks before an Ironman.  Barb put all her personal needs aside to make sure that her friend finished what she started.

Barb was the epicenter of energy and Lauren, Doug, myself and several others were feeding off that energy to keep going.   She was there to talk to me when I was down, which in turn gave me the energy to talk to Dough from Detroit, which kept him going and gave Lauren someone to run with.  If it wasn't for Barb, I don't think any of us would have made it to Grant Park, for now on she is "Amazing Barb!"

Barb not only inspired me to the finish, but to do more with my endurance resume.  She was an amazing mentor to Lauren and made me realize that sometimes it's not about you, but what you can do for other athletes. 

So if you are a charity out there and are looking for a mentor to run and train with your BOP'ers, let me know, I am your man.  Because I do care and like Barb (my new hero) I want to share my experience with others and help them reach their goals.   Call me, e-mail me, let me know, I want to do this again and again.

Lauren taught me, "Forward is a pace," there is no shame in finishing last, only in giving up on yourself.   As we now know she made it, so did Doug and so did I.

The Aftermath- My feet still hurt, I am hungry like a college freshman, my butt is killing me, but my knee passed the big test (thank you Dr. Brian Cole).  Moji is my new best friend as I ice my parts, I am mostly good.  My Garmin said I ran a little over 27 miles, which I believe.  My goal for next year is a ½ Ironman, I told Lauren that she is my inspiration to keep going no matter how hard it gets, because now I know there is no shame in being slow or being last.