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I did it!By Maria Bailey In the event, you missed my diary entry from last week, Sunday I ran and finished the Chicago marathon. I ran 26.2 miles through the streets of the windy city. It was my third time to run that distance. The third time to feel the rush of adrenaline as I approached the bright yellow sign that read, "26." The third time I cried with strangers as we all crossed the finish line. It is an incredible experience, but I know that running a marathon will never be some people's goal either because of time commitments or physical limitations. So in an attempt to allow you to experience the rush that keeps me going back for more I thought I'd take you with me on race day. It's Sunday morning. The alarm goes off at 5:30 a.m. Pre-race jitters have set in. I can't help but question my ambition to run 26.2 miles when I know what I am willingly about to put my body through. The only feeling that I can compare it to is walking into the hospital 9 months pregnant to give birth to your second child without being in labor. You feel perfectly fine but yet you willingly walk into a situation you know will make you endure extreme pain and demonstrate incredible fortitude because you know in the end it will produce one of life's most gratifying moments. My best friend, Audrey, who had agreed to come along as my cheering section, woke up and attempted to calm my nervous thoughts. She's the girlfriend everyone should have. We met in college on a day that I had unknowingly borrowed her clothes from a sorority sister who happened to be her roommate. As I walked across campus, Audrey approached me in the Student Union. Seems that she recognized her white scooter skirt and matching shirt and wanted to know why they were on my body instead of in her closet. Considering the way things could have ended that day, I have been blessed to have her as a friend ever since although I don't know if she'd call our friendship a blessing. I've gotten her into some pretty sticky situations over the past 20 years. First there was the time I talked her into walking from Battery Park to Central Park in new leather shoes. Then there was the time when I convinced her to help me chaperone 20-16 year old boys on a cruise to the Bahamas. And oh, yeah, while we were on the island, I talked her into biking across the entire island only to end up in the back of a delivery van with our bikes after getting lost somewhere in the jungle hours away from the ship. Through it all, Audrey has stuck by me. She was next to me as I married the man I love, as I looked into my first child's eyes, when the nurse pulled me out of the bed after a c-section, when my father died, when I wanted to take three children under 6 to Disney World and now as I was about to run the Chicago marathon. Yep, Audrey is the best! We quickly got dressed. No need for make-up this morning. Just Vaseline. I greased up any part of my body I thought could rub against another, laced up my shoes and headed out to the starting line. Thirty six thousand runners were expected to race so we anticipated the crowds we soon encountered in the streets. It's amazing to think that 36,000 people spent months training so that they too could run 26 miles today. It's literarily a sea of people and an endless trail of blue Port-o-lets as you approach the starting line. All the while, one word keeps haunting your mind, "Why? Why? Why?" With four months of training behind you, there is no question that the only place you want to go now is to the finish line. We met up with a former colleague who was also racing and found our place in the starting area. The elite runners are at the front of the pack and the rest of us are supposed to file in according to our anticipated finishing time. That way everyone can run comfortably with other runners at the same pace. Looking around you see all types of people from all parts of the world. A couple next to me is from Italy. In front of me is a group of older women who apparently have been training together. You can overhear people trading stories of marathons' gone by and first-timers bragging about their anticipated finish time. The latter group always reminds me of a first time mom who proclaims to the world that she intends to deliver without any drugs. It always perplexes me why anyone would set themselves up for failure by setting goals based on situations they have never experienced. But so be it, the guy next to me is going to run this marathon in a time only the world record holder could beat. It makes me chuckle and I could use one right now. It's one minute to the starting gun and I'm ready to get this feat over so I concentrate on having a girl's weekend with Audrey. She's gone now to the sideline although we have determined mile markers where she will try to be in order to root me on. The gun fires and we begin walking to the starting line. You see, with 36,000 runners it takes well over ten minutes to actually cross the starting line. All you see ahead of you are heads bobbing up and down as runners begin to eventually run. The crowd is thick and everyone is cheering. Many runners wear their names on their shirts so that strangers can root them on as they pass. A few will attempt to run the distance wearing silly costumes or crazy hats. Somehow, I seem to always get behind someone dressed up. Last year I ran 8 miles with the Teletubbies. Today my penance is two older women in flapper dresses complete with fishnet stockings. It's hard to feel like a serious runner with two wigged, women flapping in front of you. Of course the crowds love them so it generates lots of entertainment. By mile two, modesty has been lost among our fellow runners. Everywhere you look, you see men and women urinating. It's like going to the doctor, you just don't think about it after a while. The crowds are thick at the beginning. Strangers yell for you although every once in a while you can hear an older couple question each other as to why any of us would want to run a marathon. Just what I need to be reminded of at this point, "Why?" I am wearing a hat that a good friend and mother of four gave me. It's says, "Marathon Mom" on it. Like the Flappers, it was very popular. Every few feet someone was yelling, "Go Marathon Mom," "You can do it Mom," or "Way to go Marathon Mom." I seem to have an instantaneous bond with every female who stood on the curb with a stroller or held the hand of a toddler trying to escape into the sea of runners. As the miles pass, the crowds thin. The neighborhoods change. We pass through Chinatown, a Mexican area and an industrial park. Audrey finds me at mile 14 and jogs along for a few yards. It feels so good to see a familiar face even for a few minutes. There are water stops every mile complete with yellow Gatorade. The stops allow you to catch your breath for a minute and to smile at volunteers who so eagerly offer something to drink. The fields of runners become thinner about mile 15. Everyone is now getting tired and some drop out of the race. It's sad to see someone crying on the side of the road fighting the fatigue that sets in at this point. A young cosmetologist runs next to me for a few miles. Without exchanging names, we talk about our hometowns and the great feeling we'll experience once we finish. It feels great to be in the double digit miles. It makes the end feel attainable. But fatigue really sets in by mile 18. A stranger yelling at you no longer generates enthusiasm. It's like being in labor and your husband telling you to breath. You just don't want to hear it anymore. And at mile 19 I no longer want to hear, "Go Marathon Mom." At this point in the race, a runner has depleted their body of all the necessary nutrients to keep going. It's a strange feeling. I try to do math problems in my head but it's as if my brain cells won't connect. There are special high carbo gels you eat to give yourself energy. Mile 21 brings the unexpected. An ambulance passes us and as I approach mile 22 I see paramedics working feverously on a man. He is very pale and not moving. A cold feeling comes over me and instinctively I begin saying a prayer. I learned later that the man died of an apparent heart attack. He was only 45, a husband and a father. The scene stays in my mind still and my heart aches for his wife and children. To think that in an instant, his wife's life had been changed. Today she wakes up as a single mom and instead of greeting her husband at the finish line; she was forced to plan his funeral. The moment is one that stuck in my head for the remainder of the race. Suddenly, carving 10 minutes off my finish time didn't matter much. Suddenly, I had a different feeling about all the strangers who yelled out "Go Mom." Suddenly only my mortality occupied my thoughts as I ran to the finish line. As the last stranger yelled, "Go Mom," I realized that if I died instantaneously tomorrow as that unfortunate father had done at mile 22, I was most proud to be called Mom. Out of all the titles I have earned and held in my life, Mom is the one I am most proud of and the legacy I want to leave behind. I finished the race on Sunday and across the finish line, I carried the spirit of the fallen runner. For in his passing, he had reminded me of the fragility of life. So although I know I can run 26.2 miles, I've decided to try to walk a little more. You get a better view of life that way. Do you find setting goals creates positive momentuem in your life? Share your thought on our message board or email Maria.
Also see: Maria Bailey is the CEO and founder of BlueSuitMom.com and a mother of four children under the age of seven.
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