The Run that Pushed me to my Limits, and How I Kept Going
Early September in Chicago, a bright sunny day with the perfect combination of left-over summer warmth and early fall crispness in the air. This was a great day to go for a long run. And that was lucky because it was also the day I was going to run 18 miles. The year was 2015, and I was in the final stretch of training for the Chicago Marathon.
I was lucky enough to be training for this as part of a group which meant long runs didn’t have to happen alone. There were multiple pace groups and a ‘home base’ for us to store our bags and coats in the park. My pace group and I had been training together all season. We weren’t the fastest group out there, in fact, we were one of the slowest, but we encouraged and supported each other throughout the runs, and I would not have been able to go through training without them. I popped on my podcast, and the Nike run app which would keep me on pace and off we went running along the lake.
I was feeling great out of the gate. Heading south from Lincoln Park towards Navy Pier in Chicago, you run right along the lake. The sun was shining, waves were crashing (as much as they do in a lake) and I was running. I felt great, this was going to be a good run.
And it was, for a while.
Down lakeshore, along the lake, circle around at the aquarium (snap a picture of the skyline because this is the best view of Chicago) and head back north. Pass home base in Lincoln Park, and go as far north as possible, to the end of the path. This was about when my phone died, apparently having the many apps running that I did runs the battery dry fairly quickly. Oh well, I know where I need to go. Circle back and head south for the final stretch.
Step by step, I was progressing, overall feeling strong and proud of my ability to go so far.
Then it happened.
At mile 15, so close to home base and yet a full 5K away, a sharp pain exploded in my right knee.
I thought I could stretch it out, so I told my pace group I would walk for a minute and catch up with them. They forged ahead. I walked for a bit, but as soon as I started running again, sharp pains exploded in my knee again. I would be walking the rest of the way. And not a quick walk, but a slow, limping progression down the trail.
With my pace group being one of the last, I wasn’t sure if anyone was behind me from my group.
It hurt even to walk now. I wanted to get an uber — phone was dead. I wanted to grab a taxi — wallet was back at the home base; Could I get on a bus — transit card was back at home base. I was stranded in the middle of the city. I would be finishing this thing.
So I limped on. I wanted so badly to sit down, to lie down and stop moving. Every few minutes, I would stop and stretch. But I knew I had no choice but to finish the 18 miles on foot and I wanted to get to the end as quickly as possible. I repeated the mantra over and over again, “Just put one foot in front of the other. Good. Now do it again. Great.”
I limped through the next 3 miles, eventually limping up to the home base. Most people had gone, but there were three people still there, wondering where I was and trying to call me.
When they saw me limping up, they knew I had had a rough run. I remember they stood up and clapped, trying to be encouraging, and I fell over and cried. I felt embarrassed to be the last one in, I felt terrible for having made them wait. I was worried about what this would mean for my marathon training and all the work I had put in.
I cried.
But I was lucky. I was lucky I had people waiting for me at the end of the run, who gave me all the left-over post-run pizzas (two whole pizzas to take home!) and ordered me an uber home.
I was lucky I had people there who reminded me that as hard as it was, I still completed my 18 miles; I still crossed the finish line. As much pain as I was in, I didn’t order an Uber or call a taxi. While I didn’t really have much choice at the moment, it did feel good to know I still finished the ‘race.’
I was also lucky it wasn’t a serious injury. I worked with a physical trainer to get my knee back in operating condition and took training easy for a few weeks before ramping up again before the marathon.
A little over a month later, I completed the 2015 Chicago Marathon with minor interruptions from my knee. I crossed another finish line.
But in that finish line crossing, wasn’t just the 26.2 miles I had just completed, but all the long runs, challenges and successes I had faced across the previous 6 months, especially my 18-miler. My 18-miler story reminds me that behind every finish line, every goal achieved, and every success story, there are countless struggles and challenges along the way.
One of the most challenging things I’ve ever done mentally and physically, this story pulls me up when I’m feeling discouraged. When I’m feeling lost, exhausted or stranded (even in the middle of a city) I remember that mantra that got me through those last three miles “Just put one foot in front of the other. Good. Now do it again. Great.”
Take the next step, keep going, and you’ll cross the finish line.
