Flashback Friday: Personal Best Edition

I hit my never-to-be-beaten personal best (1:56:03, baby!) ten years ago in this half marathon, which weirdly tried to rebrand itself as something bigger than it was by calling itself the Chicago 13.1 Marathon.

Amateur runners of a certain size and weight strive to run sub-2:00 half marathons, and this is the only time I ever beat that milestone. I did it in part because an Ironman-doing friend of mine recommended that I take a handful of Advil before the race so I wouldn't feel any pain. Which worked like a charm because I felt awesome the entire time and the whole day afterward. AND THEN I WAS CRIPPLED FOR LIFE WHEN I WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING. Word to the wise from the front lines of bad ideas: Never do this.

Last-minute tips from me to you for getting the most out of tomorrow's Chicago Marathon:

1. Do your crying up front. You'll be emotional at the starting line as it is, so let your tears flow then. Trust me: You won't have any moisture left in your body at the finish line anyway.
2. Speaking of moisture, PEE BEFORE THE RACE. Then get back in the porta-potty line and pee again.
3. There are very few people in the world who get to be cheered and screamed at by millions of fans for plus-or-minus four hours. You're one of them. Drink it in.
4. That said, don't let all that screaming distract you from the race. It's fun to smile and wave at everyone, but doing so burns precious energy. Find the balance between being a rock star and being a disciplined runner.
5. THAT said, all bets are off in Boystown. The second you turn left from Addison onto Broadway, you will be overcome by megatron levels of cheering and screaming and drag queens and music and pure unbridled joy. It is the BEST mile of the race, so smile and wave and cheer and pump your arms and maybe even cry a little. You won't be able to stop yourself anyway, so dive in and enjoy it.
6. There's no shame in walking if you need to. Your legs will start to stiffen up if you walk too long, though, which will make it harder to resume your running. But you probably already know that by now. :-)
7. That said, suck it up, put on your badass runner face and start running like a world-class athlete whenever you see the marathon photographers. (See photo.) You'll thank me when it comes time to buy your commemorative marathon photos.

8. I'm not gonna lie: Your last few miles running north up Michigan Avenue will suck like you won't believe. The cheering crowds will thin, your feet will hurt all the way up to your neck and you will swear that someone has put the Willis Tower -- your one shining beacon leading you to the finish line -- on wheels and is slowly pushing it farther and farther north just to mess with your mind. Rest assured that's not the case; there seriously isn't time to get all those wheels installed.
9. The route is pretty uniformly, blessedly flat. For the first 26 miles. In a twist that can only be described as cruel and unusual, the route becomes a steep hill once you pass the 26-mile marker and turn right on Roosevelt. To mitigate the situation, though, there will be another massive crowd there to cheer you on. Drink in as much as your body will let you.
10. Check out your skin after you cross the finish line. You will be covered in homemade salt. You're a margarita! So cheers to you for finishing. You've earned it.

How to be sick

• Develop a scratchy throat, a general sense of malaise and a Rovian case of dragon breath.
• Work the fact that you’re sick into every conversation. Say things like, “I’m sorry I’m no fun today; I’m sick.”
• Be sure to add that you bit a huge chunk out of your cheek over the weekend—and mention that it’s still swollen and tender—so people understand how much you are suffering. And how profoundly admirable you are just for showing up.
• Make a big show of using gum or mints or breath spray in meetings so people understand you are protecting them from the sulfuric pits-of-hell stench that your scratchy throat and chunky cheek are producing.
• Eat a double Quarter Pounder with cheese value meal—and super size it!—for lunch because the salty fries will help your throat, the Diet Coke will temporarily mask your dragon breath and the double Quarter Pounder with cheese will … um … just be so damn tasty.
• Duck out of work a little early, explaining that you’re sick and you need your rest.
• Constantly check the lymph nodes in your neck to see how swollen and tender they are. And to gauge just how much time you have left on this earth.
• Above all, do not feel sorry for yourself. There’s nothing more pathetic.

Learn from my experience.

Never organize your photo albums while watching Fear Factor.