With two miles to go I somehow attracted an admirer-- a skinny young dark-skinned boy on a bicycle. He followed me along the beach, around and down the Sheridan curve and to Loyola where he finally gave up. I was kind of peeved (I just wanted to run alone and finish), kinda of creeped out (he stared and slowed down for me), and kind of comforted. Well, only when my i-Pod died during that last mile stretch. He provided an awkward distraction, I suppose!
6 Hours, 29 neighborhood and numerous gel packs later, Chicago Marathon 2008 is finished! The temp reached 84 degrees that day, and 33,000 runners participated.
A big thank you to all of my supporters for helping to make it happen. Adrienne and Dave made sure I was fueled at mile 9, Teri met up with me at mile 13 to run by my side through the hottest part of the race, I bumped into Rodrigo and Addy at mile 18 while grabbing more gel packs, and Rodrigo found me on the bridge and sprinted the last 200 meters with me (in his flip flops!). It was awesome!
And even more amazing is over $700 will be donated to Hope Runs, which will help its children's program in Tanzania and Kenya. Read more about it at www.hoperuns.org. And fittingly so, the male Kenyans dominated the race this year. Read the Tribune's coverage here.
Along with all the congrats and hugs and handshakes, a question I keep getting is will I do it again next year. If you asked me around mile 23, the answer would have been a exasperated, exhausted and angry " NO WAY!" But a month has passed, the pain wore off, so only more time will tell. Running is addictive so odds are, another marathon is on the horizon. :)
Monday, April 21, 2008
My little admirer rides a bike
Yesterday I ran the farthest distance that I've run in, oh, I dunno, 5 years? It was my slow, long weekend run. Started at Rodrigo's apartment on NorthShore and Sheridan and followed Sheridan to the lakefront and south along Lake Shore Drive to Irving Park. Total distance was a little over 7.5 miles and I felt good. Took it easy; stretched and stopped for water when I needed. There was a chill in the air but I wore only my spandex and racerback anyway. :)
Thursday, April 17, 2008
What goes up, must come down... crashing.
So the title of this posting is a little exaggerated, I'll admit it. But since registering to run the "big race" in October I've experienced both moments of euphoria ("I can do this! I really can!) and utter disappointment ("What is wrong with me??").
For the first two weeks after registering, my runs were amazing. Simply awesome. I was down to like 25 minutes or something for my 3 miler. For me, that was much better than I've done in a long, long time. A few weeks back I ran 6 simple miles along the lakefront-- a few times, actually-- and just felt great. Natural. Like, I could really do this.
Flash forward a week (in real time, that would be two weekends ago. Sorry if my timeline is confusing you). Beautiful spring Sunday. Everyone is out and about and cheery that good weather has finally arrived. I'm stoked to run in such nice weather. So I lace up and head out and after about three quarters of mile I begin to think, 'huh, this really doesn't feel all that good. As a matter of fact, I feel lousy. This is... hard?'
I had music. My pace wasn't too fast. I had no excuses except I smoked hookah the night before (lungs hurt) and pulled an all-nighter Friday (sleep-deprived). I had to suck it up and make myself run the 3 miles back home.
This happened again a few more times, during long runs (6 miles) and shorter, quick runs (2 miles). My legs felt heavy, I was running with my chest, it was just so unnatural. I didn't even feel like I was employing my quad muscles, squeezing my abs, using my biceps and forearms to pull me through.
Then, I'm home on the south side this weekend. I run 6 miles around the 'hood. How'd it go? It was awesome. I was going much faster than I felt. I think I finished in around 55-56 minutes. The next day I have 2 fast miles to crank out. Finished in under 16:30. Hmm, what gives? Familar territory, Ashley suggested.
Yesterday was another beautiful day. Again, totally excited to run 5 around town. So I go out, and, just like before, felt shitty. I did run one mile under 8 and another (on the Ignatius track, after breaking in) in 7:40, but I could only complete 4.
It's frustrating. It is so easy to get sidetracked by the bad runs and fall into a funk of "what the f am I doing? No, why the f am I doing this to myself?"
But then there are those really Zen-like times when you feel like you can put foot in front of foot for hours... I could really use one of those this weekend. Like Saturday when the schedule calls for 7. Lucky number 7!
An ad, hanging on my bulletin board at work:
"halfway thru my run
I realized
I actually
felt
good."
For the first two weeks after registering, my runs were amazing. Simply awesome. I was down to like 25 minutes or something for my 3 miler. For me, that was much better than I've done in a long, long time. A few weeks back I ran 6 simple miles along the lakefront-- a few times, actually-- and just felt great. Natural. Like, I could really do this.
Flash forward a week (in real time, that would be two weekends ago. Sorry if my timeline is confusing you). Beautiful spring Sunday. Everyone is out and about and cheery that good weather has finally arrived. I'm stoked to run in such nice weather. So I lace up and head out and after about three quarters of mile I begin to think, 'huh, this really doesn't feel all that good. As a matter of fact, I feel lousy. This is... hard?'
I had music. My pace wasn't too fast. I had no excuses except I smoked hookah the night before (lungs hurt) and pulled an all-nighter Friday (sleep-deprived). I had to suck it up and make myself run the 3 miles back home.
This happened again a few more times, during long runs (6 miles) and shorter, quick runs (2 miles). My legs felt heavy, I was running with my chest, it was just so unnatural. I didn't even feel like I was employing my quad muscles, squeezing my abs, using my biceps and forearms to pull me through.
Then, I'm home on the south side this weekend. I run 6 miles around the 'hood. How'd it go? It was awesome. I was going much faster than I felt. I think I finished in around 55-56 minutes. The next day I have 2 fast miles to crank out. Finished in under 16:30. Hmm, what gives? Familar territory, Ashley suggested.
Yesterday was another beautiful day. Again, totally excited to run 5 around town. So I go out, and, just like before, felt shitty. I did run one mile under 8 and another (on the Ignatius track, after breaking in) in 7:40, but I could only complete 4.
It's frustrating. It is so easy to get sidetracked by the bad runs and fall into a funk of "what the f am I doing? No, why the f am I doing this to myself?"
But then there are those really Zen-like times when you feel like you can put foot in front of foot for hours... I could really use one of those this weekend. Like Saturday when the schedule calls for 7. Lucky number 7!
An ad, hanging on my bulletin board at work:
"halfway thru my run
I realized
I actually
felt
good."
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