The fourth time I questioned finishing this run, I was fumbling on the ground in the darkness, my sticky hands searching for a second broken water bottle.
The first time came after my alarm went off at 5: 30 a.m. Number two after one of my gel packets exploded. Number three after my hydration belt (one of the few products that sounds less dorky than it looks) fell and broke my first water bottle.
That’s when it started to rain.
I was 10 minutes into the run. Only 3 hours left. Three weeks until the Chicago Marathon and one and a half miles into a 21-mile long run, this was the first time I actually questioned my sanity.
I didn’t think I was insane when I signed up for the marathon in April. 26.2 miles doesn’t seem so long when there’s a six-month cushion. For someone who doesn’t know whether he’s going to eat Cheetos or Bugles for lunch on a given day, six months seemed like an eternity. We also faced that whole rapture thing in May, which left the future of the world in doubt. With any luck I wouldn’t have to even run the thing.
The marathon is in one week. The world didn’t end. Crap.
I’ve been a runner all my life. My mom used to guilt me into running a mile when I was younger, which turned into an average cross-country career, which turned into an actual love of running. That’s why, on Oct. 9, I’ll toe the line in Chicago with full knowledge that my body is going to shut down at mile 22, that I won’t be able to walk the next day and, like Andrew Bernard from the office, I might not be able to wear a shirt for a week (only marathon runners are comfortable talking about nipple chaffing).
My friends who don’t run often ask me why I’m doing this. I sometimes think it is to work off the four whoopee pies I shoved down my mouth the other night. Other times, I think it’s for the sweet free t-shirt I’ll get if I finish.
The real reason though, came at mile 12 three weeks ago. The sun popped out over Lake Michigan as I crossed the bridge into Lincoln Park, and I could see the two spires of the Hancock building and a man tripping over his dog’s leash. I was feeling good.
Running is a physical roller coaster. You can start a run with sticky hands and two broken water bottles but give it 10 miles, and you feel unstoppable.
Of course, by mile 19 I looked like the Michelin Man running through a pool of Jello. Yeah, that long run hurt, but I think running is appealing because it’s a challenge to keep your body in balance. You constantly try to maintain the highs and get out of the lows. You are never more in tune with your body then while you are running. A rock in your shoe at mile 5 turns into a blister turns into not being able to walk. A half-filled water bottle turns into an empty water bottle which turns into reeling on the side of a bench at mile 12. Running is more about feeling than anything else. That's the challenge and it's why I love to do it.
I can say with certainty that around noon on Oct. 9, a female grizzly bear missing her cub will be more pleasant company than me. But, I’m going to run anyway because somewhere around mile 14, I’ll look at the Chicago skyline and feel invincible. Plus, I’m about to eat a box of Oreos by the sleeve.