The whole truth, and nothing but the truth....

HELLO INTERNET WORLD! Have no fears, I am still alive!

So get ready for a big old post here, packed full of a lot of pain, sweat, sadness, and triumph. Ok, maybe I'm being a bit dramatic, but you get the point :)

As you can tell from the photos Emily loaded up to the site, I did in fact survive the Chicago Marathon, or what was left of it. I'm sure most of you heard about the fiasco of the Marathon this year. Go figure, I decide to run a marathon, and mother nature shouts "NO YOU AREN'T!" Eh, you win some, you loose some, right?

So let's start at the beginning, a very good place to start, no?

5:00 AM-Wake up and realize that I'm about to do the most incredible and possibly dumbest thing ever. Oh boy. Eat the usual pre-run protein shake and add a bagel to the mix. Take some Tylenol and a salt tablets before we leave. Me and Dad looked pretty funny. On the bus I listen to some music on my iPod to pump me up while I write my name on my arm in sharpie, and write where all my friends will be with water on my other arm. I look like I was going into battle. Haha.

7:00 AM-Arrive downtown. Runners everywhere. It was nuts and beautiful. Met up with Emily and her friend Joey who were ready to go for the day. Nervous as hell. Kiss my Mom goodbye, and me and Dad are off to the charity tent to drop his bag off. So many nerves, I actually go to the bathroom in a porta-potty. See, I have a huge fear of portable toilets, so if I use one, you know I'm meaning serious business.

7:30 AM-Head to the back of the starting line. Stretch. My dad looks REALLY funny stretching on the ground. Gives me a good laugh and calms me down. We meet another Team Care member, and a runner from Canada. Everyone is nervous but excited.

7:50 AM-We can hear country singer Jo Dee Mesina singing the national anthem. She is also running the marathon this year. I just checked and she got to finish the whole thing! Her pace was 13:11 and she finished in 5:45. DAMN! That's awesome.

The Race!

8:20 AM-Finally cross the start line. Music is blaring, everyone starts from shuffling to running. It's already super humid and hot, not a good sign. My dad informs me to slow down, that I'm going at a twelve something minutes a mile pace. Whoops. I move to the edge of the pack and slow down a little, but can't help myself. I'm crying and I can't stop laughing. I have never felt so alive and so amazing as I cross the starting line. I was just so proud and on top of the world. I'm running past people who are screaming my name, past cars honking horns and cops giving us runners thumbs up. Just amazing.

So I shoot out of the tunnel that we go through right after the start line, and burst around the first corner. Since I'm towards the back of the pack, the runners are spread out farther, which in my case is awesome, because I have my name on my shirt, so all the people that I'm coming up to or passing are screaming my name. Imagine 50+ people shouting your name and telling you that you are awesome and their hero. Yeah, the most amazing experience ever. I pass a group of French fans cheering for me, and thank them in French, and they go wild. I pass the Chicago theatre and a blues band is playing "Sweet Home Chicago." I am in love with the city and all of the people in it at that exact moment.

First water stop: Thankfully they have some more liquids by the time I get there, and I grab a cup of Gatorade. When my Dad passed in the 5:30 pace group, they had nothing for them, so I was thankful for my slow speed at that point. I see two girls that I knew from college cheering me on, my first fans of the day! It was awesome to see familiar faces, and it means the world to me that they came out to cheer us runners on. Thanks Anya and Steph, you girls ROCK!

Corner of Jackson and State: Another huge amount of people are here cheering. I get lots of "GO LISA, YOU GO GIRL!" A lot of "LOOKING GREAT!" I can't stop smiling and pumping my fist and thanking people.

Just past mile 4: Well, the fans are dying down at this point, but still a lot of great people cheering me on. One women tells me a mouthful as I pass by and says "Lisa, you are awesome, you are doing something so many people will never have the courage to do, you are my hero." I almost cry at that comment, phew. I've chatted with a few runners at this point. Everyone is still in good spirits despite no water at the second station, just Vaseline for chaffing. And then it happens. I'm talking to another runner, and the "finish line" van passes us. Yup. Way to make me feel way slow. Eh well. All of a sudden I hear my friend Amy scream my name up ahead. She darts out to me with some Gatorade, and trots by me for a bit before she has to leave for work. She tells me how proud she is of me, that she is so proud she is tearing up. Don't worry Amy, I was doing the same. Thanks for being so awesome and supporting me!

Heading up, almost to North Ave: The church goers coming out of the Moody Bible Institute bless me and cheer me on. I'm not a religious person, but it really touched me deeply to see them out there cheering people on, so major props to the congregation of Moody Bible Institute. A women up ahead is going nuts cheering people on and singing. As I get closer I realize it is a lady that comes to the spa I work at who has ran over 10 marathons. She recognizes me, and starts going crazy! She runs next to me for a bit and sings "Sweet Home Chicago" with me as we run. I hope she comes back to the spa soon, I want to thank her so much for keeping my hopes up during a very dead part of the course.

Turning into Lincoln Park: Well, the official cars are now starting to take down mile markers, and moving us slow pokes to the sidewalk. Thankfully I know the course and have a map, so I'm good to go. The next aid station has no cups, but a nice lady pours water on my hot as hell head. A group of DePaul students stuck around to cheer us all on. It's the most people I've seen in the last 1/2 mile cheering, so it makes me feel better. But I'm starting to get exhausted and dehydrated, so I slow my pace and start to power walk. I power walk a very lonely few miles. I'm too tired to put on my iPod. Every once and a while, someone cheers me on or tells me I look great. Haha, sure. At some point a women has a garden hose and sprays me down. God bless the people of Chicago for all their help.

Turning off Addison and heading back south on Broadway: Well, it's official. The race has passed me by. No more aid stations, crews are cleaning things up, and fans are FAR and few in between. I am so tired. My friend David meets me at Belmont and Broadway with some water and Gatorade. God bless him. He tells me I'm right on time pace-wise of when I told him I'd meet him, so this is nice to hear. He walks for a bit with me, then wishes me good luck. Later he tells me that I looked really bad and tired. Haha. Funny how you don't realize how bad you are when you are dehydrated.

Going south on Broadway: I've got two walking buddies. Brenda and Tara. Tara came from LA to run Chicago, her first marathon. Brenda is a charity runner. We look like a motley crew making our way down the sidewalk.

Turning to go into Old Town: Emily, Joey, and Aaron meet up with me. Emily tells me later that I tell her that I'm fine and have plenty of Gatorade. In fact I was caring a bottle that only had a sip left. She makes me take a bottle of water. Once again I think I'm fine. Later Emily tells me that I wasn't sounding too good, and not making sense when she sees me. Oops.

Old Town: We make our way down the sidewalk, and maybe see one fan cheering us on. To all those people that stayed behind long after the huge mass of runners passed by to cheer us slow pokes on, thank you so much. You are amazing and probably kept me from bailing way earlier. Tara uses the porta-potties at one point. I give her a wet wipe to wash off with after. She tells me receiving that wet wipe is the best thing to happen during the race to her. HAHA. Marathons sure are intense, aren't they?

Somewhere on Wells under the horrible hot sun: My mom and my friend Scootie (who really convinced me to finally do the marathon) meet up with us. They give Tara and me water. My mom is super worried. She also tells me later that I wasn't making sense when I tried to talk to her. They stop us and inform us of the full marathon news. The marathon...HAS BEEN SHUT DOWN. Woah, what? I freak out and want to know about my Dad. I got the text message when he crossed the half way point, and his pace was too fast compared to what he was training at. My mom assures me he is ok. The race officials blocked him and the runners around mile 17 or so, and told them they had to stop, that the race was called due to the extreme heat. My dad asks a cop if he can continue, and the police tell him if he wants to he can on the sidewalk, but if anything happens to him, the wait for an ambulance is 2 hours!!! My dad thankfully boards a bus that takes the runners back to the finish area.

Walking down Wells: My mom wanted me to stop immediately, but I refuse to. Me and Tara talk it over, and decide to head to Jackson where they were making runners stop and turn back to Millennium Park. It came down to we didn't want to get down into Pilsen (not the greatest area) and one of us pass out, and we can't get an ambulance. Their is no aid stations, or they are all empty, and since one person at this point had already died, this was the right decision. Things were getting serious. As we get closer to Jackson, I don't remember a lot, because I was really dehydrated. My legs were starting to buckle as I got towards the end. Not good. The decision we made was the right one. We turn left on Jackson, and get water from police and a few race officials that are guarding a table for runners. They inform us to return to Millennium Park, and there we will receive a finisher medal. A very nice police officer offers me a ride in her squad car and ask if I'm ok. I tell her thank you, but I am good enough, and I want to finish the shortened course to it's fullest.

Crossing Michigan on Jackson: I feel like a zombie, but as I cross Michigan Ave and head over the bridge, I see people cheering the runners that are starting to stagger in. I start running again, so excited. A women comes up to me and hands me a medal and a banana and congratulates me. I start to cry and smile. I ask if I can still cross the finish line. She says yes, to turn in my runner champion chip, and then go backwards to the finish line, loop in and cross it. I tell Tara we are crossing the line, and we make our way down to it.

Finish Line: So now I feel a bit guilty, because I thought the people I was crossing the line with were runners that had also been diverted back to the finish area. Actually, I was crossing the line with some of the diverted runners, but also with people that WERE ACTUALLY FINISHING THE WHOLE THING. So yeah, I feel like a bit of a jerk, but at the time my dehydrated butt had a mission to cross that damn line. I told a race official that I had been directed back to the park, but could I please cross the line. She says of course, and lets us through. Me and Tara run back a few feet, turn around, and bust through the finish line at 5 hours and 20 minutes. I start crying (haha again) and feel so proud. And then I start hearing "runner down" over and over again over bullhorns. People are dropping around me. Everyone looks like hell. A few runners and I exchange congratulations. It looks a bit like a war zone, people falling and looking so sad and sick. I grab an apple and start to eat it because I feel sick and weak. I drink two bottles of water off the bat. I bid Tara goodbye and tell her to keep in touch (Which she did! She found my blog, yay! Hi Tara!) and head to the charity tent. I arrive to find my Mom and all my friends, who start to cheer. I immediately fall into a chair, and am given some apple juice and some turkey sandwiches. I am in a daze. Everyone is talking, but I can't talk because, well, man I was so out of it still. I start to freak out because my Dad is nowhere to be found. I finally see him coming into the tent (he had to go back to get his medal and turn in his chip) and I jump up and run and give him the biggest hug. We sit down and we discuss the race while getting some liquids and protein in us.

After the race: Well, me and Dad discussed our stories, and come to find out, my dad had no hydration until mile 5. The first two aid tents had no liquids at all. They were told to run ahead. Now, on a decent day, this would be ok, but it was sooo hot and humid, you can't run like that with no liquids at all. My dad still believe he could have finished the whole thing if he knew for a fact there would be water ahead of him. But it wasn't worth risking. We find out that 1 man died (a police offer and father of two, his wife was also running the race), a that 315 were taken to the hospital. The whole thing was very tragic and sad, and my thoughts go out to the runner who didn't make it and his family. He died trying to do something amazing and extraordinary, and I will always respect him so much for that. We also find out that it was the hottest Chicago marathon in history (temps were ranging from 87-93 degrees Fahrenheit) and the first Chicago marathon to be cut off. We also find out that 10,000 runners didn't even show up that morning, mainly due to the heat. Me and Dad both saw physically fit athletic looking people walking and dropping out early in the game, which is something you don't usually see. My mom was by one of the starting corral athletes who ran off the course and quit. A spectator asked her why and she replied "I'm running New York in two weeks, this isn't worth hurting myself." My mom also helped a runner on the curb call her husband to come pick her up because "she couldn't go any farther." These were healthy people that have been running for years. So yeah, my Dad and I were a bit optimistic and crazy. But we did give it our all.

Am I disappointed? Yes, a bit. I really wanted to complete the marathon (no matter how long it took) and I know I could have if I was better hydrated. It was sad that I only got to do about 14 miles and then had to stop. But when cops and race officials are turning you around, and the wait for an ambulance is 2+ hours, it's best to make the smart choice. 26.2 miles I will conquer, but it's not worth loosing my life over.

At first I didn't want my finisher medal. I was a bit ashamed of it. But I've realized that I do deserve it. I finished the course that the marathon officials rerouted, I didn't give up before that, didn't take the two offers of rides back to the finish area. I finished what was given to me. I can't help mother nature and I can't help the hydration problem. I don't blame race officials either, shit just happens. I ran in the hottest Chicago Marathon to date. I ran in conditions that were insane, and pushed my body way beyond it's limits. I trained hard and for a long time. I overcame a lot, gained a lot mentally, and lost a lot physically (btw, I weighed myself the day after, and here are the total; starting weight 297 [? it was around that], weight after marathon: 273, AMAZING). That medal was worth the miles of sweat and tears it took me to get where I am today.

I learned a lot about myself these past few months, and a lot this weekend alone. I learned that you don't know how dehydrated you are when you are actually dehydrated. I learned that you CAN look pretty damn awesome in spandex and a fanny pack when you pair it with a smile and a lot of determination. I've met a lot of amazing people during this journey, and have seen just how amazing some of my friends are through their support and love.

Above all else, I learned that I am amazing and wonderful. I have so much self confidence now, and I feel that I can do whatever I set my mind to. I may not have finished the full 26.2 miles this year, but every mile was well worth what I got out of it. Yeah, I was sad not to finish, but the feelings I had at the start line, the feelings I had as I raced through the first part of the course, the adrenaline and energy I felt that I can't even describe, that was worth everything.

Thank you everyone for reading and coming along on my journey. Thank you for all the amazing support. You have no idea how every comment on this blog helped me along mile after mile.

I have a few blisters that are almost healed, and then it's back to running for me. Will I compete in the Chicago marathon again? You betcha! I'll be there front and center next year, hopefully weighing much less and maybe even in a pace group by then. When the marathon gods tell Lisa "no, you will not finish this race," I reply "fine, maybe not this year, but just watch me next year suckas!" We thought about running another marathon soon, but honestly I want Chicago to be my first. I love this city, and I want my first full marathon to be here.

Keep reading the site. Me and Dad are planning to run the Indianapolis half marathon next May for sure, but I know I'm going to run some other smaller races and maybe a few half marathons before next year. Most of all I'm going to keep running. Running has changed my life, and has slowly started to grow on me.

I'm also on a crusade to convince as many people as I can to run a marathon in their lifetime. I've already convinced a few friends to maybe run with me next year, and if anyone needs a virtual training partner (cough cough Pip cough cough), just let me know!

Good luck to everyone with all their future dreams that they will set out to conquer like I have, and no matter what, never give up and keep running.

Love,

Lisa