It's almost here!

Tomorrow is the big day, and we figured that if you've made it this far with reading our blog you might be interested in checking out the marathon coverage tomorrow. There are several of ways to keep track of the event and of us, depending on your level of technological expertise. Let me take a break from painting the Special Olympics logo on my nails to tell you all about it.

If you live in the Chicago area, the race is broadcast on NBC, channel 5. If you're like me and don't own a television (at least a functioning television) there might be video coverage on NBC's website, but I can't really figure it out from looking at it. here's the link:
http://www.nbcchicago.com/news/sports/2012-Bank-of-America-Chicago-Marathon-160596815.html

If you like to kick it old school or have a car like mine that only receives AM signal, there will be live coverage on AM 670.

If you're curious about where Becky and I are and haven't managed to see us on TV, you can be a total creep and get live updates texted to you or even put on your Facebook wall. It will update you when we pass 10k, 13.1 miles, and 30k.  You just have to sign up and enter our bib numbers: Becky's is 52452 and mine (Sarah's) is 48876. We probably won't be together so enter both of ours. Here's the link for that:
http://tadpole.textingforward.com/portal/tf_marathon_login_social?pvRaceId=1481

If you're hardcore and want to look at the course map or even make a quick trip to cheer us on, here's a spectator's guide with a map and some ideas for good el stops to get off at to see the action. Becky and I will be wearing our red Special Olympics shirts, so if you are planning on coming to see the marathon look for us and let us know so we can look for you!
http://www.chicagomarathon.com/CMS400Min/uploadedFiles/Chicago_Marathon/Get_Involved/2012%20Spectator%20Guide.pdf

Thanks so much again for all the support and encouragement, it means a lot to us and to everyone involved with Special Olympics. But seriously, watch the marathon on TV because it's really cool to see! We'll do a final post on Monday or Tuesday as we recover, with pictures and a wrap-up. And just to alert you that we're still alive(hopefully)!

THANK YOU!

No, really. Thank you.

58 hours until go time, and we could not have done any of it without each and every one of you. 

Together we have raised $2,168.93 for Special Olympics Chicago, and we couldn't be more proud of our family and friends who have supported us by donating, checking in with us, leaving encouraging notes, reminding us that we can do this, and telling us that we are unquestionably crazy for it!

As Sarah has said, in a few short hours it will all be over. We will be writhing in pain

but wearing medals around our necks with no intention of ever removing them.

Keep an eye out in the next couple of days for detailed information about how to follow the 35th Annual Chicago Marathon online or in the media, and how to track us as we run that morning.

And we leave you today with a nod to the progress we've made.

Believe us, we looked like this when we started.

Oh, wait. It's pretty much how most of our runs still go.

 

(Go watch Run Fatboy Run if you never have... it's been our inspiration and certainly should be yours!)

The Secrets to Our Success!

14 days from now Becky and I will have run a marathon. That's very strange to think about, and I'm really trying to focus on the feeling of accomplishment and the bragging rights I'll have for the rest of my life, rather than the process of running 26 miles. We both know that we'll be able to get through it, despite maybe not being the most prepared people to ever run a marathon. But at least we're not as unprepared as this guy:

At this point we've survived our longest training run and are tapering; the long run this week was only 12 miles! For me, that means I'll spend the next two weeks freaking out about the fact that there will be three whole weeks between my longest run and the marathon. How does that make sense?? So in an attempt to not think about scary things like that, it's time to start figuring out the logistics of our marathon experience: things like how to instruct our mother to see us without getting lost in the crowd of a million people (literally), what I'm going to wear, and how Becky and I are going to affix things to the body parts we've sold as part of our fundraising for Special Olympics. So for those of you wondering what goes into preparing for race day, here's a photo list of the necessities -- if you're Becky and me.

1. Hand-held water bottle contraption. Guaranteed to make you look 100% more like a pretentious runner. Also guaranteed to give you a strange hand tan line when you wear it for 4 hours in the sun. But on long runs it's actually useful. And note the reflectors on the side, so that nobody will run into your hand when you're on a long run in the middle of the night.

2. Finnish running shorts. I spent a semester in Finland and will pretty much use any excuse I can get to pretend I'm Finnish. The bonus is that they're actually really great shorts. Which makes sense because Finland doesn't mess around when it comes to running. Or anything else. But I probably would have bought them either way. Fun fact: "karhu" means bear.

3. Classy sassy Special Olympics hats. Which are clearly not very effective in shielding the sun. I don't wear a hat when I run and won't actually be wearing this on race day, but Becky might. Plus this picture is just too cute not to share with the world.

4.  Confirmation that I am in fact one of the slowest runners registered. Because of the size of the race there are two start waves and corrals labeled A-M, according to your predicted finish time. As you see, I am in corral L. The second slowest.  I believe Becky has the honor of being in corral M, and I'll probably join her there so that we start together. This means that although the start time is 8:00 AM we'll probably cross the start line some time around 8:30, because we're so far back. It just seems like a cruel joke, because it's already going to take us a really long time to run it, AND we're the last to start! So we'll probably be arriving at the post-race party right as it's finishing.

5. Peanut Butter. Duh. I've eaten peanut butter on a bagel before every race I've ever run, and I've never died, or even passed out. So that can't just be a coincidence. Plus I'm a very routine-oriented person, so this is probably just as mentally helpful as nutritionally helpful. And peanut butter is delish.

6. Sweet Tats. Becky and I have sold our body parts to raise money, and now we have the challenge of figuring out how to make things stay on our faces for 26 sweaty miles. One kind donor bought our cheeks and requested that we put guitars on them in honor of David's friendship with her guitar-playing son. While we're planning on using sharpies to write or draw most things, guitars are a little tricky. So I bravely set out for a party supply store and spent about 45 minutes tracking down the best guitar temporary tattoos. $1.19 later, this is what I came up with. 

*side note: we still have a couple body parts left for sale, so if anyone wants to buy our arms and have us put flaming skulls on them we're all stocked up. Here's the website for our donation page

7. If you're Becky, you need about 800 other things to get through a run. She practiced on our 20 mile run. There are pretzels, because 5 hours is a long time to go without a little snack. Then there's her phone so that she can take important business calls. Car keys in case she decides to just drive instead of running. Various energy goos and gels and blocks, because it's the only way to get through a long run. Seriously, before these were invented people didn't run more than 5 miles. Headphones that will probably only work in one ear and totally break 20 minutes in. Gatorade prime, because water just isn't good enough for this champion. A wallet in case she wants to buy ice cream at Oak Street beach. Classy sassy Special Olympics hat (see #3). An excited and optimistic expression, to show that she enjoys waking up at 5:00AM to run to McCormick Place and back. And finally, a belt to put all these things in and to make her look like a "serious runner." Except for the saying, which reads "WTF! Where's the finish." Serious runner indeed.

And that's about it; our secret formula for a successful race day is no longer a secret. It's the least we can do to thank you all for the support you've given us; as much as we joke about it this is a big deal for us, and having people support us in our insanity is awesome. And amidst all the craziness  we're trying to keep perspective; running 26 miles is one day of our lives, but the impact Special Olympics has on people's lives is ongoing and we're so honored that they let us be a part of it. We'll check back in as the day gets closer, and let you know how you can watch the marathon or even keep track of us as we run (hint: you know the vehicle that follows the last runner? We'll be not too far in front of that.).

Good News, Bad News

Well, here we are... one month from the big day! It's all a little surreal, and daunting, and frankly... ahhhhh! (Downright scary)! But we are running a lot, learning a lot, and even blogging a lot (well, kinda...a lot for us, at least). So things are starting to become routine, which is good thing... but it's still nice to spice it up every once in a while. For this update, we shall play a little round of Good News, Bad News!

Good News: We just passed the 50% mark in our fundraising for Special Olympics Chicago... THANK YOU!

Bad News: Our hands and arms are the only body parts still up for sale... you could miss out if you don't buy them soon!

Good News: On Wednesday, I (Becky) drove from the north side to downtown and thought, "Wow, I am able to run this far and could run back, too!"

Bad News: I found it out the hard way on the Monday prior, when we ran 18 miles from Foster Beach to Soldier Field and back... ouch!

Good News: As of 10 am Monday morning, our calorie count for the day was at -4500, so we got to eat whatever we wanted all day!

Bad News: We mostly wanted to lie around and die all day, and we're pretty sure we never even made up for most of those lost calories this week.

Good News: AthletiCo offers free 15-minute sports injury screenings and just moved to the neighborhood.

Bad News: I (Becky) and my flat feet had to drag ourselves over for a friendly visit after that 18-mile run this week!

Good News: This week's "long" training run is short -- only 10 miles!

Bad News: We are crazy and might run the Chicago Half Marathon on Sunday instead, which is 13.1 miles...

Good News: Fleet Feet Chicago has been incredibly helpful in supplying all of our training needs.

Bad News: Fleet Feet has been sucking us dry of money and recommended specialty "fat girl" spandex to us for race day!

Good News: Many of our training runs typically end at the beach now, so we get to go swimming!

Bad News: Lake Michigan and the Lakefront Trail hold absolutely no novelty anymore, and typically induce all sorts of yelling and cursing.

Ahhh... the list could continue endlessly, but the point is that we are taking the roller coaster of ups and downs in stride, and actually really enjoying some of it in spite of the fact that we are up to running for about 4 straight hours now on our long training runs! Thank you all for your support, we couldn't do it without you!

Any idiot can run...

Well, the countdown continues. 40 days.

That is how long Noah spent on the ark when God destroyed the world. And the same amount of time that Jesus trekked around the desert with nothing but enough water to stay alive. And I'm sure a million other biblical references I can't think of. While I hesitate to compare myself to these biblical figures who endured all sorts of crazy shenanigans, I am really freaking hoping and praying that my legs can make it that long.
(I just keep reminding myself that Noah and Jesus did it with hair longer than mine...
and they didn't even have Clif Shots or Gatorade!)

Sarah and I ran our longest run last night, at 15 miles. Let me tell you, it really freaking hurt. But alas, when you have learned the art of procrastinating such as we have, you also learn to appreciate the few rest days between one long run and the next. Because just on the horizon, this coming Saturday, Sarah and I will head out around 5 am to complete our 18-mile run with our training group!

Well, I say training group. Except that we don't really train with them. They like to run too much, and talk too much, and there is just a general air of too much excitement over the sick thought of running for 4 hours straight. The whole idea of running 26.2 miles is really sick, when you think about it. 

This shirt, which I happened to notice at another race a few weeks ago, really says it all:

That's not the only lesson we've had to learn, though. If you ever decide to venture out for a 3+ hour run, 

here are a few other things you might want to know:

1. If the sun is out, don't do it. Just don't. What would otherwise be a beautiful, sunny day with 80 degree temperatures turns into a fiery furnace of nausea and impending doom.

2. If your calf muscle is feeling a little tight in the first half mile, you are likely to spend the next 14.5 miles running weird on that leg, and the next day walking like an idiot 

because your hip feels like it's going to detach itself.

3. Toenails are not nearly as secure as you think they are. And as someone who hates feet, I'm going to need counseling after this. (These first three are from Sarah, by the way.) And if you need more disgusting information, most of which we're both experiencing to some degree, this is a fun read: http://www.more.com/health/fitness/yuck-marathon-trainings-10-grossest-things

4. Every energy drink/chew/gu/tablet/bean/potion tastes the same: GROSS.

Like someone threw sugar, lime rind, and poison berry juice together, then mixed in 

varying amounts of pectin in order to realize a prescribed texture somewhere between rubber band and clay consistency. Just ask Sarah how she really feels about this.

5.  It is a real and true fact. Everything that could possibly seem weird or off will. That app for

your sweet jams will force close. The GPS will tell you that you ran to Wisconsin. The Droid X

will shut off completely. And inevitably, you will get stuck 30 feet up on the wrong side of the 

Chicago River, hoping and praying that Lake Shore Drive decides to magically fuse itself

back together sometime before midnight.

 

 Be honest now, don't you have a new appreciation for the fact that all we're asking you to do is donate? :-)

We sold our souls, but you can buy our bodies!

TRUE CONFESSIONS:

Sarah has been writing all our blog posts.

It's true, she's always been the better, funnier, wittier sister.

The Glo Run post from June that has my name on it? She wrote it. I know, I know... I tried. I started it. I wrote about two sentences, then left it to sit for weeks. Sarah finally logged in under my name and just finished the darn thing. Anyway, there is something decidedly less compelling about my style of writing, so I let her do the work. I let her do most of the running these day, too.

But it is my understanding that a blog post concerning our fundraising endeavors has been promised.

So with no further ado, good friends, I present you... a good-natured appeal for monetary donations!

Here's the deal. Sarah and I have pretty much sold our souls and livelihood to the Chicago Marathon. 

Our cute summer tans, our Saturday morning sleep, our pride (we joined Women's Workout World in desperate need of a treadmill after many consecutive days of 90 degree temperatures, but we had to trade in our fitted Mizuno running shirts for 80s spandex and headbands that the rainbow vomited all over), our tendencies to give in to iced coffee cravings. All gone in an effort to get our bodies in some sort of shape to run 26 miles.

But after much discussion, we decided... why stop there?

We may as well sell our bodies, too!

(And maybe even get some money for it?)

So here it is, friends.

Your chance to purchase body parts and our dignity.

Our chance to look ridiculous and be encouraged for all 26.2 miles.

Will you help us out?

Below are is a list of our body parts, all priced at quite reasonable costs.

LEGS (4): $50 each

ARMS (4): $35 each

CHEEKS (4): $20 each

FOREHEADS (2): $20 each

HANDS (4): $10 each

TOTAL: $500

That's right, folks. We are selling our bodies for a total of $500.

But we want to share the wealth, and we want many of you to be involved!

It doesn't stop there.

As with any major transaction, there are certain terms and conditions for this purchase. As a buyer you receive unique perks, and there are guidelines and procedures in place to make your shopping experience top notch.

Read through the fine print below, and follow the instructions to make your purchase!

FINE PRINT:

Buyer, in making a purchase, will not receive actual body part. Purchase of a body part is a contractual agreement in which the seller(s) agree to paint, write on, or otherwise alter the appearance of the body part in accordance with the buyer's wishes. This visible alteration of the body part may include the drawing or writing on of inspirational quotes, personalized notes, motivational pictures, or otherwise encouraging visual content. These alterations will be donned on the morning of October 7, 2012, and will remain printed on the sellers' bodies for the duration of the Chicago Marathon.

PURCHASING INSTRUCTIONS:

1. To purchase a body part, head over to our fundraising page.

2. Click the green "Donate" button under our picture.

3. In the "Amount" section, type in the price of the body part you wish to purchase.

4. Type your name in the "Display Name" box (so we know who donated!)

5. Head to the box that reads "Leave a comment with your donation"... this is important!

6. In the comment box, type the name and body part of the person you would like to purchase from (i.e. Becky leg).
7. Following the name of the person whose body part you have purchased, type a message, quotation, or other description of what you would like to appear on the purchased body part during the marathon.

8. Complete the"Your Info" and "Payment Details" sections.

9. Click "SUBMIT!"

10. Wait for a confirmation email and relax in knowing that the body part you purchased will serve to encourage us on the day of the race and remind us of your amazing support.

As always, thank you for loving us and humoring us as we endeavor to do the impossible.

48 days and counting!

Are we worse at blogging or running?

Ugghhh. I obviously need to apologize for letting you all down; I know that when we started this blog you probably checked back every day in hopes that there would be another witty update. As days turned into weeks without updates you may have begun to feel hopeless, betrayed, and a little saddened by the fact that we straight up lied to you about all the blog posts we were going to make. Believe me, we feel just as sad as you. 

This is how we feel about our lack of updates. I can't even show my face. So ashamed.
(Special appearances by my lovely cousin Bethany, and my other cousin's girlfriend Andi- betcha can't tell which one is related to us!)

It's been quite a summer; after graduating college in May I immediately started a full time job, which has been awesome but a huge adjustment. I also moved about a month ago and am still attempting to get settled in and back to some normalcy. Becky has had an equally busy summer with work and roommate changes at her apartment. It's a terrible excuse, and I'm well aware that there are people training for the marathon who have way better reasons to slack off on training and fundraising, and yet they don't. But the fact is that here we are seven weeks away from the marathon and neither Becky nor I are feeling super psyched about running 26.2 miles very soon. So part of the reason for this post is some accountability. I really hope a couple people will read this and have the heart to kick us in the butt for being losers at this marathon thing. 

But enough self-shaming. In 49 days Becky and I are going to go for a nice little jog, and we've got a lot of work to do before then. A lot that work involves buckling down on training and really taking advantage of the physical health that we're so blessed to have-- AKA get our butts off the couch and going running. A lot. 

I know that I also have some mental work to do before the race. I committed to running for Special Olympics, and I am working to understand what my physical effort is going to mean for the people who participate in Special Olympics. That part is actually pretty simple. I just think of my brother's face after he makes a sweet shot in a basketball game, or bowls a strike in bowling. If you've never seen David truly excited, you're missing out. He loves Special Olympics, and is fortunate to go to school in a place where it's accessible to him. Becky and I are running to raise money for the program in Chicago, where there are a lot of people who deserve to get just as excited about making a shot in basketball as David does -- even when they miss the shot, as David seems to do without fail (he's still by far the best athlete in the family though).

The other thing we have to do to prepare: actually raise the money to allow people to get super excited about playing basketball, bowling, and even bocce ball-ing. And let's be real, everyone deserves to have the chance to get stoked about bocce ball. It's awesome. Ok, so we need to raise some money. But  Becky and I have some fun ideas to give you a little incentive to donate-- if you really need more incentive than people playing bocce ball (I promise there's more sports in Special Olympics than bocce ball, I just think it's really cool). So I swear and promise that a post on that is coming in the next 24 hours. Please please give us another chance and check back; I don't want to overwhelm you with it right now but I figured you all deserved an apology for our lameness.

The shirt makes it all so real!

Highlights (or Low Lights): The Glo Run Disaster

A pack of neon gel pens exploded on us, and this was the resulting look. 

Sarah and I are more or less in agreement that if we don't continually sign up for races, we'll have no motivation at all and probably never run again. That fact combined with my intense love of glow sticks led to us thinking it would be a great idea to sign up for a sketchy night race called the "Glo Run" a couple weeks ago. Naturally, things did not go as planned.


Now, most reputable races in Chicago are organized by either running associations or a big sponsor (like Bank of America). The first tip off that something was amiss should have been that we had never heard of All Community Events, which organized this race. But we were too caught up in the promises of "glow swag" and an on-course DJ to be seriously worried. Excitement was in the air as we sat on the Great Lawn in Millennium Park, listening to classical music and outfitting ourselves in neon shirts, glow stick jewelry, glow-in-the-dark painted headbands, and (in Sarah's case) a glow stick laced tutu. In fact, we may have gotten a little too excited, and by the time we got to the start line in Grant Park, we desperately needed the facilities. Except, wait... there were no toilets anywhere. ANYWHERE. Races are one of the only times I'll gladly use a port-o-potty, and I would have given anything for one at that moment. But apparently even that was too much to ask. Whatever, it was time to leave our unbelievably tolerant & supportive friends Ahn and Earl, who had gladly accompanied us on the expedition. We headed, bladders unrelieved but glow sticks illuminated, to the Start Line. And this was the point at which they herded all 3000 of us across Lake Shore Drive (which had not been closed) and down into the underpass beneath the road. We then proceeded to wait in the suffocating cavern for about 30 minutes. It happened to be about 90 degrees (32ish celcius?) even at 9:00pm.  

This was kind of how we felt about the whole thing.

As we inched toward the start line we realized the holdup: the start gate was only wide enough for about 1.5 people to get through at a time (maybe two, if they were really skinny). The only thing we could figure was that since the race was along a narrow-ish bike path maybe they were staggering the start so that we didn't all get jammed up along the route. Either way, it was a little ridiculous. And very warm. Once the race actually started, it wasn't so terrible. In fact, the whole experience was fun in a disastrous kind of way. It was a lot of little strange things that make us think that was a one-time race for us. Some of them include:

The start line: one at a time please!

• It was 6k. 5k is normal, 10k is normal, even 8k is pretty common. 6k, however, makes no sense. But with nothing to compare it to, it was an automatic personal best time! 
• The "on course DJ" was a set of shoddy speakers with an iPod. Good. 
• As I said, it was HOT. In a normal (legit) race, there would be warnings about the heat. We never heard a word from the announcer. They also ran out of water at the finish line. It's the middle of summer in Chicago; let's plan for the possibility of it being warm. 
• Along the same line, there was some pretty significant lightning that was also not mentioned. I believe the race announcers comment was "better run fast!" Ugh.
• The course was poorly lit, poorly marked, and they made me run up stairs. Not cool, bro.
• Can you say $40? That's what it cost, per person, to register. Maybe for a good cause, but maybe not. And I have a feeling we'll never actually know.

Even the weirdest runs have a view like this. So we're going to stop complaining now.

So that's the story, and I hope there were enough pictures to keep you moderately entertained. For all we complain, it was still a lot of fun and could have been way worse. Really, we're pretty lucky to be able to do ridiculous things like this.

Thanks again for having nothing better to do with your life than read our blog! Less whiny posts are coming soon! And now, let me leave you with this:

Classing it up at the Grant Park Music Festival before the race

112 Days and Counting

Welcome, welcome! So nice to see you! If you happened to stumble across this and are not sure what this is about, let me fill you in. If you do know what this is about, stay with me, I promise it gets good. Becky and I (Sarah) are running the Chicago marathon in October, and we're raising money for Special Olympics Chicago along the way. So this blog is more or less a thinly veiled attempt to get you to give us money, whether out of care for Special Olympics, or just annoyance that this keeps showing up on your news feed or in your email. Either way, and for whatever reason, we're really really excited (and really really apprehensive) about attempting 26 miles (42 km for you foreigners) and can't wait to share our journey with you all. 


Let's start with a history lesson. In October 2010, Becky mentioned to me that she was thinking of running a 5k. After recovering from my fit of laughter, I decided that if she could do it, I could do it. I had been running a couple miles a couple times a week at the gym and figured it wouldn't be a problem. So we did it, and finished in a devastatingly awful 37 minutes. To be fair to us, it was a very disorganized race and we had to walk a lot of it because there were all sorts of baby strollers and walkers littering the very narrow course... Needless to say, we had humble beginnings. Since then we've run several more successful races, including half marathons. But we're getting bored, and it's time to raise the bar. 26.2 miles sounds good, but if you know us, you know we need some other motivation.


Special Olympics (S.O. from now on because I'm lazy) is close to our hearts; our brother David has participated in various S.O. sports and we really feel like it's been great for him. When we thought about what might motivate us to drag our butts 26 miles, S.O. was a natural choice. The money will be going to help fund programs specifically in Chicago, where S.O. is working to bring recreation to people and places that might not have it otherwise. It's a great organization, and we feel lucky to be able to help them out. 


But here's where you come in. Becky and I are aiming to raise $2000 for S.O., and unfortunately neither of us have a couple thousand dollars to spare at the moment. So we're hoping you might find it in your beautiful hearts to help us out. In the coming months we'll be keeping you updated about our progresses and certain failures along the way. We'll also post pictures, because I never want to put you through this much reading again (talk about biting the hand that feeds you!), and don't worry, they won't all be of us... just mostly. On that note, we actually did a run last night and it was especially ridiculous. So our first real post will be on that topic and coming soon. 


I'm done rambling for the moment, but before I go, we really want to thank all of you in advance for your support. Feel free to get in touch with us if you have any questions or for more information, and check back often for specifics on our torturous quest. If you're feeling bad for us already (or don't want to have to check back) click this now!  http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/beckysarahgould/2012chicagomarathon