Marathon Madness

Race Report for Chicago Marathon 2011:

El Guapo Supreme and his little enchilada Millie celebrate the final result!

The pressure was on after the 2010 Chicago fiasco. You remember last year, where I melted down in the 85F October heat at Mile 20. Walked two miles after cramping and finished at 3:58. Illusions of qualifying for Boston in my 1st ever marathon evaporated as quickly as my bi-weekly paycheck. It gnawed at me ever since. I wore my orange World Vision wristband all year as a daily reminder. I had UNFINISHED BUSINESS!

So, I trained hard for this. I changed tactics. I understood now what to expect.

Game day this year was on, Sunday, Oct. 9th. My goal was harder this year. New Boston qualifying times meant I had to run 3:30 or less. This year I followed WV training plan. No free-lancing. This year I rode my bike around Chicago before the race. No 10 mile death marches the day before the race. This year I had breakfast on race day. Last year nada. This year I ran with Nike pace group. Last year surged out of the gates way too fast. This year more Gu, water and Gatorade.

Started in Corral C next to the 3:30 Nike pace group. Running naked. No clocks, no timers, no Garmins. Just me and my iPod. Took a minute or two to get to the start line after the Kenyans started the clock. The first "X factor."

The crowd was electric. Music and bands everywhere. Millions of spectators. It was so great. One should experience this as either a competitor or a fan! I high-fived some Husker fans. I did some dances. I rallied the crowds. I was into this. No demons this year like last year at mile 7. Good frame of mind. Got to 13.1 with juice. Now down to bizness. Next obstacle was to run thru mile 20 where last year's meltdown started. Did it!

Then at mile 23, the Reaper visited, as you knew he would. My right hammie seized. Arggghh! Not again. No! Decision time. Submit to the pain like last year or refuse to lose? Teetering at the edge of the abyss. Called on old reliable. The Diet Coke. The DC brought me back from the abyss. I was not going to allow this opportunity go. I dug deep. Then deeper. The 3:30 group pulled away when I cramped. I tried vainly to catch back on. They are tantalizingly close, maybe a 100 yards ahead. Finally, mile 25 arrives. 1.2 miles to go. A minute or two to play with. The X factors; the time it took to get to the starting line, coupled with the 3:30 group slightly ahead of pace and the perceived 59 second cushion. Previously, you could finish in 3:30.59 and still qualify.

I could still do it. I'll never do it if I don't give 100%. I ran as hard as I could. I round the final corner. The FINISH LINE was .2 miles ahead. The Nike pace group finishes. I'm a 100 yards behind. My face is contorted in pain as I "sprint" for the line. The clock reads 3:31.50. Was it enough with the X factors?

I think I've made it by the hair of my chinny chin chin. Then someone tells me there is no longer a 59 second cushion offered by Boston. I sink. I despair. So bleeding close. I desperately needed that cushion. Without it I am forked. I am low. Lower than whale poop. Lower than a snake's belly.

I muddle my way towards the World Vision hospitality tent. I am grim. I've been reaped. CK approaches. She had runner tracking on her cell phone. She shows me. Unofficially, 3:29.56.

I'm dumbfounded. I am rescued again. My spirits soar. I have done it. I qualify for Boston by 4 freaking seconds! You know, one banana, two banana, three banana, four banana. The planets align. My guardian angel escorts me. I enter the tent and scream it out....Boston Baby!!! Everyone in the tent claps and cheers. I reach for a Diet Coke. Pop the lid and drink it all in. The DC. Next up, Boston 2013. The Boston DC party!