This was my second attmept at a sub-three hour marathon and it went almost as well as I had hoped. Here's what I thought of it in 1995:

Sunday morning of the Chicago Marathon started for me at 5:50am. It was early and dark outside. The weather the day before had been pretty miserable; cold, windy and spitting rain. If the weather during the race was the same it would be an even harder race. For the past two years I haven't had much luck with weather during fall marathons. At Chicago in 1993 it was 30F and snowed (I ran a 3:07:56) and in Washington DC in 1994 it rained hard the whole race (I ran a 2:59:32). Another foul weather marathon wasn't something I was looking forward to running in again. In addition to that I was nervous about my goal, a 2:50. The number itself doesn't sound like that big of a deal, but when you do the math it turns out to be 26.2 6:30 miles. That's a big deal to me. On top of that I had a difficult time training. I sprained my ankle twice during peak mileage weeks and ended up missing two entire weeks of running. On the other hand in the month before the marathon I set my PR in three different races (8K-28:32, 10K-36:14, 5M-29:47), all of which indicated that I should be able to run a 2:50 marathon. But those were short races and the long runs I missed in training made me anxious when thinking about 26.2 miles.

After I got out of bed I work up Dave Haushalter and Tom Miller, two friends from Purdue University who had come up to Chicago and stayed at my sisters place. The night before we carbo-loaded and I subjected them to the cruel and unusual punishment of watching videos of two of my marathons. Tom would be running in his first marathon and Dave was running the 5K that was run along with the marathon.

When we were already we piled into our cars and headed downtown. A half hour later we were in Chicago and looking for a parking lot. It was around 7:00am, a little too close to the starting time for my liking. We found parking quickly and headed to the start area in Grant Park. People were already lining up, but our first stop was at the port-o-potties line. We found a relatively short line, but spent all our time there. By the time we were finished the race was only ten minutes away. Tom and I shed our warmups and headed to the starting line. It was cold and I had thought about wearing a hat during the race, but then that would cover up my recently shaven head. The day was sunny and the temperature was in the 40s. Not too bad, but it was windy and with the windchill in the shade it was quite cold. I opted for a t-shirt, singlet, long shorts and gloves.

Our first attempt to enter the crowd was blocked by fences. So we went to the back and started to push our way forward. We made it about halfway to the start but about 5000 people were packed tight ahead of us making any further progress impossible. In desperation I jumped the fence and ran through the spectators to the six minute per mile pace and then jumped the fence back into the crowd. People helped me over and then a flow of runners followed.

A short speech and the National Anthem later and the horn sounded and we were off, I was starting my tenth marathon and my fifth in Chicago. The crowd moved quickly and I passed the starting line in a few seconds. For the first mile I darted around people trying to get into an open space and find my target pace. It was hard to restrain myself, there is so much adrenalin at the start that almost any pace seems effortless. But as I got to the first mile marker I saw I was just where I wanted to be. It read 6:31 as I passed it.

Just ahead I saw a guy with orange hair, a blue tank top that read STOP EATING ANIMALS on the back. I knew it was Nimbus Couzin, another friend from Purdue. Nimbus had the same goal and we had trained a lot together over the summer. I had hoped to find him and run with him. He'd gotten in some really good training this summer and I hoped to be able to hang with him and have him drag me to the finish. During the second mile we talked a bit and ended up running a 6:20 mile.

This continued for the next eight miles as we headed north from Grant Park past Lincoln Park Zoo. A few mile markers were out of place making us think we'd run a 7:30 mile and then a 5:30. But this was early and only once. The rest of the mile markers were correct and helped us keep on our target pace, maybe a little fast. The streets were lined with crowds cheering on the runners. Nimbus's hair caused several shouts of "Go Worm," or "It's Dennis Rodman," referring to the power forward recently acquired by the Chicago Bulls. Either that or Dennis was right behind us for most of the race.

Getting drinks with my gloves on proved to be a challenge. When I grabbed them with my right hand I managed okay. But my left hand was numb from the cold, that and the Gatorade that I had spilled on the glove before the race. When I tried to get water with my left hand I ended up spilling it on the guy running behind me, and then when I got Gatorade I dumped it all over my face. If not for my Oakley sunglasses I would have gotten it in my eye. From then on I made sure to get fluids with my right hand.

Around the sixth mile we passed a wheel chair athlete. He was pushing hard, he had only one arm but was still going very well. The different people who compete in a marathon and all the obstacles the overcome never cease to amaze and inspire me. During last year's race around mile 17 I passed a guy who was on crutches who was running the marathon. People like that show me that anything is possible.

The miles were going fast and we were building up to a 30 second lead on our target pace. At each mile I tried to calculate what the next mile split should be. Each time were passed the mile in less time than I calculated gave me some confidence that we could make it. But I was getting tired and wanted to slow down. Nimbus seemed strong, so I just tried to stay close to him. He mentioned slowing down a few times, but held the pace.

We passed the tenth mile at around 1:04:30, still 30 seconds ahead of the 6:30 pace we wanted. Around this time Nimbus saw his friends and just after that we saw Rachel Eisenhower, another Purdue physics grad student. They would be the last of the crowds for the next three or four miles as we worked further south.

The next big landmark was the halfway point. At 13 miles we were still about 30 seconds ahead of our pace. We weren't gaining any time, but we were holding steady. I was getting tired, but Nimbus was strong and kept us on pace. We passed the 13.1 mile marker at around 1:24:30. A guy we passed told us to get to 20 and then make it a race and we'd get our 2:50. 20 Miles seemed like a long way off and I didn't want to think too much about being only halfway done.

It was getting harder for me the next five miles. Nimbus still seemed strong and so I held on refusing to quit and drop behind. If I was going to drop out it would be because I cramped up or something worse, not just because I was getting tired and there was some pain. Ekkehard Gerndt, yet another fellow Purdue physics graduate student, told me a few times that running a marathon involved respecting the distance. Last year in Boston he told me that meant knowing that you'd be in pain during the race and to accept that and keep running. I think that this was the first time I really understood what he was talking about and I kept pushing.

Around mile 16 or 17 we saw Dave Haushalter for the first time. He shouted to us that we were still right on our pace. A few blocks later he was there again and I introduced him to Nimbus. Most of the race my sentences consisted of at most three words. I didn't want to waste any more energy or concentration than was necessary to get my point across.

At mile 18 Nimbus told me his calves were starting to hurt and might cramp. He told me to go ahead but I told him to stay with me. So I took the lead and instead of Nimbus pulling me along, he was pushing. We passed Comiskey Park and mile 19 still faster than our pace, but we were slowing down a bit. The miles started coming a little slower. Being so tired, hurt and slowing it seemed that the miles were taking longer than they really were. I was losing the ability to do anything but push. By mile 20 I wasn't sure what our pace was anymore.

At mile 22 we turned south along a bike path on the lake shore. Sure it was a nice place to run, but it was 22 miles and we were going in the wrong direction, Grant Park and the finish were to the north and that's the only place in the world I wanted to be heading towards. Nimbus was about 20 yards behind. As we rounded the corner to mile 23 I saw him and waved him up. He caught up by mile 23 and pulled me along. We were now on Lake Shore Drive and about three miles away from the finish. The end was in sight. But in the past as much as half the race was on Lake Shore Drive. So even though I knew in my head I was almost done, it felt like I was only halfway done. Our time at mile 23 was around 2:35, in my head I thought that meant I could run three seven minute miles and still have a 2:56, three minutes better than last year's time.

Nimbus would have none of that though and kept pushing. So I did my best to keep up. After mile 24 we saw Nimbus's friends. He told them it was getting tough. During the last two miles we took turns in the lead pulling each other along. It was similar to our 100+ mile bike ride back from Urbana-Champaign earlier this year when we fought the wind and took turns drafting.

Mile 25 came and went, I had quit looking at my watch or comprehending the time that the clocks read when we passed them. I knew we'd break three hours, but probably miss our 2:50 by a little bit. But the race wasn't about that anymore, it was about finishing and finishing strong. Most of my marathons have been poorly paced and I end up getting passed by seemingly hundreds of people in the last few miles. That day Nimbus and I passed a lot of people and probably didn't get passed in the last two or three miles. Dave Haushalter shouted at us to finnish strong and that we could catch lot's of people.

A little after mile 26 I started my kick. There was a band playing "I'll stop the world and melt with you" and that started it. But the finish was still a long way off. I fought hard to keep my kick strong. Down the final straight away I saw the clock ticking off towards 2:53. I though I might get in under the wire with a high 2:52, but I was too far away from the finish. The final time on my watch was 2:53:07.

Nimbus finished just behind me breaking his personal record by almost five minutes. We celebrated in the finish area and talked with Rachel and Dave. The workers wrapped up in aluminum foil blankets and gave us food and water. Nimbus loaded up on the free Samuel Adams beer.

With our medals, bottles of water and bananas we headed off to the massage tent. After a good massage I waited outside for Nimbus, Dave and Tom. Tom showed up first. He'd had a hard time during the last six miles, but managed to qualify for the Boston Marathon while running his first marathon. As we were waiting Rachel and Ekkehard showed up. Ekkehard had run also. He had told us he was hurt, hadn't trained enough and was slow. He ran a 3:16, taking it easy. He also made my life a lot less miserable by loaning me a coat to wear while Tom and I waited for Dave, who had our sweats in his car.

When Dave showed up we headed to his car and talked about the races. The crowd had gotten too big and I didn't see Nimbus again. We'd run such a good race together and he helped me push through the hard parts. The days leading up to the race and at the start I wondered why I run these, but the feelings after the race make it worth the effort.

Nimbus Couzin's version of this story.

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