a marathon to remember

..it doesn't matter if we don't finish within our goal time -- or don't finish at all. what matters is that we tried, that we enjoyed the process. what matters is that we got out there."

~ john bingham

i woke up sunday morning ready to take on the world. every part of me was confident that by mid-afternoon i'd have completed my very first marathon, and i was looking forward to the thrill of the day. after weeks [and weeks and weeks] of living and breathing running, race day had finally arrived.

i quickly showered and applied a thick layer of spf 70 in anticipation of the expected heat, consumed my favorite race-morning meal of waffles covered with peanut butter, bananas and syrup, grabbed my race gear, and we were off.

ready to run

good 2 go

by 7:45am, i had found a spot at the start line, surrounded by nearly 35,000 other runners. i could see the 12 min/mile pace group nearby, and realized that i was further back than i wanted to be, but there was just no way to push forward to get to the 10 min/mile group. already, the temperature was in the mid 70's - much warmer than i had hoped - and i reminded myself that i was going to need to start slow.

at 7:59 the horn sounded and the crowd erupted in cheers. the elite athlete were off, and 20 minutes later my timing chip beeped as i crossed the start to music that had me pumped to go. mile 1 felt great. i had no knee pain, adrenaline was coursing through my veins, and the only thing i needed - already - was some water. as i checked my pace, i realized that i was running faster than i should have been, so i reminded myself, again, to slow down.

i saw the signs for water and gatorade as i rounded the corner, and was relieved. but as i approached, i quickly realized that there none left. "not a huge deal," i reassured myself as i moved forward, "i'll just get some at the next stop." yet i couldn't help but panic a little when i heard someone comment that if the aid stations didn't have water, they would just head off-course to buy some at a 7-11. my mind raced... what?!?! i hadn't brought any money! why didn't i think to bring money? what if there was no water for me to drink?!?!

thankfully, i found something to drink, but it was a battle to hydrate all along the way. for the first 8 miles, the water and gatorade stops were in complete disarray. there were no filled cups neatly lined on tables, ready to be handed out by volunteers. instead, many stations were completely empty, and volunteers were yelling "keep going - water at the end of the block". i pushed my way through lines, even grabbing a used cup to have it refilled when all the new cups were gone. at one point, i even stopping a runner with a huge jug of water, and begged for a drink.

hydration aside, battling the heat was another challenge. the temperatures soared to 88 degrees, and we were all struggling to keep cool. shop owners and residents all along the route had pulled hoses out to spray us down in an effort to help keep the runners cool. i assure you, it would have been a far different day, had it not been for the support of the thousands of chicagoans lining the course. i ran through lincoln park, bucktown, greektown, little italy, i was met with encouragement. it was exhilarating to hear the cheers, the clapping, and until the letters of my name feel off my shirt, i had hundreds of people cheering for me by name. "go audrey!" "You Can Do It Audrey!" "WAY TO GO AUDREY!"

and as i ran, accepting that i was dropping further and further off pace due to the heat and humidity, all i could think about was the next time i would see another family member or friend. i kept scanning the crowds that i passed for familiar faces, and was so thrilled to see my cheering coworker at mile 5, that i stopped to give her a sweaty hug! my mom met me with a hug and a banana at mile 6, and mark and leslie with high-fives and yells of "KEEP GOING AUDREY" at mile 7.

the list goes on and on. i saw my coworker again at mile 10, just missed mark and leslie at mile 12, saw my mom two more times at miles 13 and 16. melissa, kjersten, esther and grace met me at mile 15. and brandon surprised me at mile 17, where he started to bike alongside me for a bit. it was each of these individual moments that motivated me to keep going. the oppressive heat, the pain that found its way back into my knee, the mental struggle were all but forgotten when i saw the face of yet another one of my amazing supporters.

a photo text sent by my mile 15 support crew

still, it was impossible to ignore that impact of the heat that day. every aid station along the way was full. sirens could be heard almost constantly, and chicago had to call in EMTs from neighboring suburbs to help treat and the many people who suffered from heat exhaustion or heat stroke. as i crossed the timing mat at 30K (ashland and 15th street), i saw a man surrounded by about 8 other runners as one person applied CPR and another pumped his chest. i remember slowing down to pray for him and for clarity for myself, as i evaluated for the 10th time that day how i was truly feeling. was i pushing myself too hard? should i continue on?

i was fine, but others were not. over 300 people were taken to hospitals. one man died, and i later realized that he was likely the same man i saw. devastating.

i kept going. at some point, i realized that it hurt more to walk than to run, so i ran. soon after, i heard a voice behind me, and realized that it was my dear friend, kathy, who mark and i had supported in last year's marathon - an experience that inspired me to run this year. i was elated! we hugged, and decided to finish the race together.

shortly after mile 20, a woman's voice could be heard repeating "the marathon has been cancelled due to the heat. slow down - do not run. the marathon has been cancelled". cancelled!?!? at first i didn't understand. what did she mean, cancelled? chicago had never cancelled a marathon before. i had just run 20 miles, and knew i could do 6 more (or at least, i thought i could). up ahead of us, firefighters had opened hydrants to cool us down as we slowed to a stop. i was disappointed and i started to deflate. all that wasted time and effort - my weeks and weeks of training - had been in vain. i wasn't going to finish.

i knew that mark, norman, leslie, jonathan and casandra were all waiting at mile 21, and wylene, reggie, josh and kim were at mile 23. i called them all to tell them that the race had been cancelled. i walked ahead to find my mile 21 support crew who had started to walk towards me, and we met with hugs. as we headed back towards chinatown together, we debated what to do.

at some point i decided that i wanted to at least walk to the finish. mark quickly said that he'd walk with me, and soon jonathan and casandra chimed in that they'd do it, too. we met brandon, and later my mom, and together walked to remaining 6 miles to the finish line.

i can't tell you how amazing it was to have this group with me. i thank them, again and again, for helping me to end the race on a positive note. had i taken the shortcut back, had i boarded one of th many busses sent out to cart us to the finish, i would have been even more disappointed.

brandon, jonathan, casandra and mark - my six-mile support crew!

with my biggest fan:)

reggie, wylene, josh and kim - still waiting at mile 23! AMAZING!

five down, only one more to go

crossing the finish in 6:22:29. sigh.

to keep me warm?

finisher's medal

thanks for the flowers, honey!

so almost a week later, how do i feel? will i run another marathon? i'm not sure. my knee and my body are still recovering. i have mixed emotions about the day, the events throughout, and especially about seeing my finish time published in the paper and on the marathon website. i didn't get to feel that amazing feeling as i crossed the finish-line that i've been told about by many marathon veterans. in fact, i don't even know for sure that i can run 26.2.

one thing that i do know, is that i'll never forget last sunday for as long as i live. from the start to the finish its filled with countless memories and stories that i can, and will, tell for a lifetime.

yes. it certainly was a marathon to remember.