Chicago Marathon Runner: 'I Sure Wasn't Going to be the One to Say "I Can't"'

This being my second marathon, I was continually amazed throughout the season how different everything felt.

I had a hard time getting really motivated during training, which may have had a lot to do with the fact that it wasn’t new anymore. Each long run wasn’t farther than I’d ever run before. I was running, however, for a very important charity — the Organization for Autism Research — and each mile had much more meaning because of that.

On raceday, after meeting up with the partners I’d run with all summer at , we walked toward the starting line.

Despite the tens of thousands of people we stood among, I was amazed at how peaceful I felt. No anxiety, no racing heartbeat, no terror of the unknown I would face.  

I was full of optimism, ready to throw my pride aside and follow my nine-minute run/one-minute walk plan, and certain that there would be some serious “discomfort” to get through along the way.  

I was reviewing my conventional goal to beat last year’s time, along with my unconventional goals to see something disgusting, and have more fun with the crowds and neighborhood festivities.

The first eight miles were a total breeze.

I had a great pace going, I felt wonderful, and I kept trying to rein in my enthusiasm lest I burn out.  

At about five miles I got to see my disgusting thing: a gorgeous park in Lincoln Park full of men peeing on the trees. Nice.

As for having fun with the crowds, I taped my name on my shirt so I could shout a fist-pumping “woo-hoo” to everyone who cheered for me by name. My favorite part along the way was in Boystown where Lady Gaga impersonators were lip syncing while wearing long white wigs and white slips covered in hundreds of water bottles. 

I started to slip in my run/walk plan around the halfway point, where I started to walk through the water stops in addition to my planned walking time, or take an extra minute here and there.

Eventually I slipped into kind of a mean place as I watched my five-hour finish disappear. I got really angry with the crowds. I wanted them to just shut up, and I wanted to rip all the cowbells out of their hands. I was ready to tear my name off my shirt so they could stop bothering me, but I wanted it in my finishing picture.

I met my husband at mile 22 and broke down a bit, mostly from seeing someone so comforting when I was so uncomfortable but also just from wanting it to be over. By then I started doing four minutes walking with one minute running, and could hardly keep myself moving for four measly minutes.

Then, miraculously, just before mile 25, I found my neighbor.  

We were both walking and hurting, and grateful to have found each other. We spied the “one more mile” sign and decided to run in the last mile together until either one of us couldn’t.  

Well, I sure wasn’t going to be the one to say “I can’t,” and I’m sure he had the same thought, so we ran in strong together.

My final time was 5:17:47, which is a full half hour better than last year. I knew I would kill last year’s time because it was so hot in 2010. I was hoping to break five hours this time, but it was still extremely warm. Did Mother Nature forget October is supposed to be cooler than September? She made the same mistake two years in a row now.

I can safely say that I’m fully committed to NOT doing this again anytime soon. Please talk some sense into me if I start considering it. I’ll be happy to stick with half marathons from here on out.

Julie will continue collecting donations for Run for Autism, the charity her run supported, through Jan. 9, 2012. Donate by visiting: http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/julie-miller-10/chicago