Well, that was hard.

After I finished with my medal

Never have I done something so amazing and terrifying at the same time. What an emotionally and physically draining event! Without knowing the other side of this comparison, I want to equate running a marathon with childbirth. It seems like that’s pretty challenging too, yet people (mothers) are amazed and proud of themselves after the fact. What’s more, they talk about the “black out” effect of not remembering how bad the childbirth actually was — same for the marathon (kind of)! The only hole in my theory is that the childbirth “black out” effect clearly serves an evolutionary purpose, and I don’t feel it has the same purpose in marathon running.

I will return to the positive. Seventeen Chicago neighborhoods, 45,000 runners and over a million spectators, including my college friends, who lovingly created posters (including one that said: “Body Says Go” — clearly they’ve been following this blog!), and stood at mile 21 cheering. Sam and I also ran the entire race together, in matching outfits that included our names. Strangers at every mile cheered for us, shouted our names and encouraged us to go on.

Another positive: spectators’ creative posters; highlights include: “Pain is temporary but pride is forever”, “I farted, run faster!” “Worst parade ever.” (we didn’t get that — do you?), “Hurry up! Beer at the end!” (by the way, there was, and my brother threw up right after he drank it).

For much of the race, Sam and I didn’t talk about anything, except for things like “we’re at 16!” “we’re at 17!” “just 5 more!” Actually, that’s a little misleading — as we got towards the end, only Sam was able to talk. Meanwhile, I was having a combined asthma/anxiety attack around miles 22-24 — err, 22-26.2. It’s hard to explain, but the end of the race became really overwhelming. Being so close to this amazing goal while countless strangers tell you that you’re almost there, that you just need to get through 4,3,2 more miles, was simultaneously anxiety/pride/incredulity-provoking, and the only way my body reacted was getting choked up. Well, crying exhausts much needed lung capacity at the end of a marathon, especially in 80 degree weather, hence the asthma in addition to these emotions.

Sam — and Todd, even though you were one hour ahead — I could not have done this without your support. I’m so proud of us and can’t wait for our next family challenge. (Maybe something a little less strenuous would be nice, just saying!) Or, could it be the NYC marathon one day?

Before the marathon; wearing our throwaway warm-up gear

After the marathon; our NU graduation years on the back of our shirts