There's a TikTok sound made of Jimmy Carr's quote that goes, 'Everyone is jealous of what you've got, no one is jealous of how you got it.' To be clear, I don't think anyone is jealous of me at all, but I like the symbolism of it.
I've always been pretty disciplined when it comes to training for marathons. And this year, with a new coach, new teams, and new runner friends, I took it up a notch and it paid off. That doesn't mean it didn't come without sacrifices, people getting annoyed because I said no to so many things, or loneliness.
Each 4:30 AM wake-up and 9:30 PM bedtime holds its own story of crushing workouts, struggling to make it through, exhaustion, tears, happiness, missing paces, exceeding paces, the list goes on.
Two questions to ask yourself about any goal, not just in running, is how bad do you want it and what are you willing to do to make it happen?
It's no secret I am the polar opposite of some of the other bloggers, influencers, and content creators out there who push more traditional, sappier, motivating messages. I am usually not one for sugar-coating. You'll find my approach to things is grittier, don't give a fuck, and unapologetic. I am not for everyone and that is OK!
Those are some of the traits that make me uniquely me and got me through, for the sixth time, four months of tough training.
In the weeks leading up to Chicago, it became apparent my mental health was a disaster and depression was creeping in fast though it had NOTHING to do with running. In fact, running was the only thing going right and I was still nailing every workout. My PR agency started going under and it was, and still is, devastating. Was I going to make it to the starting line became a very real question.
I continued to prep like I would, wrapped up my pre-race physical therapy sessions at Custom Performance, and packed everything up for my Thursday morning flight.
My mom and sister flew in the same day so after my run and client meeting I went down to meet them and took my mom down to the Riverwalk for a snack then we went to check me into my hotel and get my bags. Once my card went through (thank you, client, who paid on time), I was able to release some of the anxiety and stress that had been haunting me until this moment. Entrepreneurship is not always glamorous and not for the weak.
Friday was a non-running day for me, so I had a nice solo sit-down breakfast in my hotel, then gathered my family, and headed to the expo.
Chicago does a great job of getting runners through the bib pickup line. Once they scan your confirmation, they tell you what number counter to go to, and voila, your bib is ready for pick-up. What they don't do well is make you walk through the expo to the back to get your bag and shirt.
Once we got my bag, we started the aisles from the back. Nothing was truly piquing my interest to purchase though I scored some good freebies. My mom got a pair of shoes and I linked up with my friend Lindsay.
A few pictures with the Nike signs later, we dropped my stuff off at the hotel and left for Navy Pier. A fun yet uneventful, in a good way, day.
On Saturday, I planned to do my 3-mile shakeout solo, but Lindsay said she would possibly meet (I was naturally going early) if she was up, though I ended up waking up to a text from her because she misread the EST vs CST for her charity brunch. Serendipitous! I ran a mile up to the Riverwalk, linked up with her, and we did about a mile down the path and back. We parted ways, and I headed a mile back to my hotel. After a quick shower and takeaway breakfast, I headed to the Nike store to grab finisher gear with the fam. What a coincidence that I chose three items, and there were three of us!
We looped back to my hotel to pick up my friend Valeria who arrived for the weekend then went on the architecture boat tour to reduce time on my legs. A girl from Endorphins came to my hotel to braid my hair and I laid out all of my gear. Every time I run Chicago I go to Hampton Social for dinner because they have a very basic chicken, veggie, and starch dish. Easy on the stomach yet filling!
On the way home, Valeria and I stopped at Target to get water bottles, a snack, and face masks. I used my Therabody boots, and within an hour of getting back, I was asleep!
Waking up and it being race day felt incredibly surreal. Looking at 18 weeks on a calendar makes it seem like a long time, yet it flew by. I woke up pretty refreshed, excited, and ready to go.
I had my breakfast (half a bagel with peanut butter and a banana), a bottle of Liquid IV, got dressed, used the bathroom 5787 times, and then headed to the park!
Whenever I run Chicago I treat myself to a hotel steps away from Grant Park - a nice change from the 5-hour NYC excursion to the start.
My goal there was to get on the bathroom line twice. Needless to say, all the calmness in my body left once I realized this was once again going to be a shit show with the bathrooms. I spent 40 minutes on one line and was panicking the whole time. I ditched my throwaway robe as I got closer to the front. I texted my people that I might be a wave back because there was no way I was starting without at least one bathroom visit.
I somehow made it to the front before 7:45 AM (when the corrals were supposed to close) and felt so rushed. I wanted to take my time, make sure my stomach and bladder were both empty, and chill for a second, but that didn't happen. I was quick in and out so the girls behind me had a chance to go too, then booked it to the corrals which were overflowing. They couldn't close because there were too many people so in hindsight, we did have extra time!
Oh well, there was no turning back now. I took my pre-race gel and once the wave was called, and the corrals started moving up, I was finally able to get inside.
Here we go! I wasn't overly nervous, but I knew I was going to have to pee again, and I was kind of bummed that I wasn't starting feeling like 100% if that makes sense.
But the start line waits for no one! Once I crossed that first timing mat, it was off to the races...literally, I guess. I started conservatively. I tried to remember that if it feels too fast, it is too fast. Chicago is notoriously known for having shitty GPS signal in the beginning of the race, so I was mostly paying attention to the elapsed time.
It was crowded during the first few miles, which helped me keep that pace slow and steady. From the minute we started I had a smile on my face and I made sure to keep it. I saw my cheer squad for the first time right before the 5K! My mom brought dolphin balloons so I could easily spot them.
Still feeling good and strong! Somewhere between the 5K and 10K, I spotted an open porta potty with no line and swooped in. Based on the splits, I was in there for no more than 45 seconds, if that. Felt much better about the remainder of the race!
I was just cruising along on the blue line at this point. I was still passing a lot of people, which was odd because I was in a fast(ish) corral. It made it really hard to tuck into a pack.
My watch also finally settled so I figured out that the course mile markers were when my watch was around .67. My pace was still holding pretty steady, and my fueling was good. When Doug and I had our pre-race call, we ended up changing my fueling strategy based on the predicted weather. I ended up doing a gel every three miles, drinking the Gatorade at every aid station, and pouring water on my head at every aid station. Unlike NYC, Chicago's aid stations are about 1.5 or so miles apart but they felt like kept coming!
There was a lot of weaving around during this time, and I accidentally kicked someone's foot really hard and am now rocking a black toenail, the same one that fell off after Berlin. Between first-time participants (I'd assume newer runners and/or influencers because we vets are usually more mindful) and the crowd, there was a lot of poor etiquette and a lack of crowd control this year. Randomly stopping without moving over, walking on the blue line, people getting mad at runners when they were crossing the road (?? insane), the crowd spilling onto the blue line, etc, made this more chaotic than usual. I think once the running influencer bubble pops and we go back to what racing was 7-8 years ago (basically pre-COVID), the majors will be less of a circus. (*I wrote this before NYCM weekend, did I manifest Tuesday? The world may never know)
I approached the half feeling really good. This was the fastest half marathon I've run within a marathon, so the vibes were high but especially after what happened in Berlin last year, I did not let myself get too excited. I had been on PR pace through the half, then really blew up at around mile 15. This was also the fastest half I'd run in a bit! My cheer squad was right after the 13.1 marker with extra gels and electrolytes ready, but I didn't need them.
Onto the second half!
My math was getting a little wonky during these middle miles. I kept forgetting what elapsed time I needed to get under between 14 and 19 but mostly held my pace steady. Still smiling and kept reminding myself that I was fine. These miles were going by super fast! I did start to feel my legs more but nothing that was going to derail me, just normal distance fatigue. That leg fatigue did make me pay more attention to my watch to ensure that even if I did slow down a little, which was baked into my race plan, it wasn't too much that would cut the PR too close.
Once I got to mile 17, that's when I truly doubled down on 'you are fine and you need to get out of the next two miles.' I tend to blow up at mile 18ish and was hoping, praying, begging, that wasn't going to happen.
Proud to say I made it out alive!
When I was in mile 19 I started thinking about what I wanted the rest of this race to look like. It was already going so well - did I want to risk it?
Of course, I wanted a PR, but what I wanted more than anything was a great race that I could be proud of. I wanted to cross the finish line happy with my performance.
Getting to mile 20 meant I finally had a good grasp on what was going to be feasible. One hour of running left. I thought up different scenarios - I could push the entire 10K, I could push starting at 22, or I could wait until I got closer to the end.
So many options available, especially because I still felt good, but I chose to have a safe, solid race. Why, after all of these years of struggling, would I want to ruin an otherwise perfect (perfect is relative given it's 26.2 miles, lol) performance?
I trained for this. I wanted this. I knew that overdoing it when I wanted a great race could jeopardize that, and I would end up crying at another finish line. Chicago 2021 and Berlin 2023 were two of my worst races ever. NYC 2021 I ended up with a course PR and ran 11 minutes faster than Chicago three weeks prior. Rent was due.
Today was my day. As I approached mile 24, I finally allowed myself to get excited. I didn't let it sink in until I knew that if I walked the rest of the race I would still PR. And when I saw that I was only nearing 4 hours, I smiled even bigger and just kept going.
I gave it all I had left in the last mile. Used everything I had for that turnover. My hamstring almost seized up in that mile, but I said absolutely not, not today, satan. My cheer crew made it to their fourth location and I flew by them. Something that I am usually really good at is having a solid kick in the last mile.
As I booked it, the right-hand turn started coming into view. I diagonal-turned, so I ended up on the left side of the road for the left turn into the chute. It was frustrating that there were so many people walking on the hill and in the chute that I still had to weave.
As I turned left, I hugged the side so I could cruise through to the finish line and not have to worry about trying to get around people.
It was during this stretch that I realized a 4:13 was possible.
Once I crossed the line, wobbled a little, and gave the volunteers a little scare like usual, I turned my phone off airplane mode.
In 2019, I was so incoherent and distraught over a devastating breakup that I didn't know what my finish time was or that I had truly PR'd. It was when I turned my phone back on that all of the text messages came in along with the finish notification from the app from tracking myself.
This time, I knew that I had a significant PR, but it became very real when I saw the app notification come in.
4:13:42.
A 15-minute plus seconds PR. A near-perfect race. Exactly what this girl needed.
I don't think I've stopped smiling since that moment. I'm feeling like I'm back in my 2013-2015 running era and I'm hoping to keep this fitness and speed going into 2025.
I'm still in disbelief that I pulled it off and I've already double-checked my map against the race map, and still peek at the tracker to see if they changed my time.
The reality, though, is that I trained for this. I poured my heart and soul into this training cycle. I wanted this. Every time a mile clicked, and I was still on pace, I was just so proud of myself. For hanging on, for not giving up, for trusting my training, for using my knowledge as a 5x marathoner to get through it vs. the 1x TikTok "marathon experts," and for going for it.
I'm going to be riding this high for quite some time.
Marathons are hard. Anything can happen over the course of 26.2 miles. And some days, the stars align just for you.
XO,
Lynette
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