I got beaten by the guy in the chicken suit. I stayed with Will Cunneen for about eight miles, but in the end, he beat me by about 11 minutes. It was so annoying.

I’m not going to be forgetting Sunday’s Chicago Marathon, my first road race, any time soon: After a great first half, things — namely my body — started falling apart during the second half. My knees began to hurt. The sun came out. The electric crowds that lined the streets of Addison were nowhere to be seen way out by the United Center.

At about mile 18, I almost spontaneously burst into tears; it was one of those sheer moments of feeling overcome with the fact I was exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally. (My friend Courtney actually did start crying at mile 23.)

I have what look like lacerations around my waist, chest and shoulders from the seams of my top moving across my skin for a little more than four hours. My legs still are not fully operational, although today I was able to go down stairs facing forward for the first time since the race. The bottom of one entire baby toe is a blister. I have tendonitis in my right foot. Oh, and just to add insult to injury, I got sunburned.

The weird thing is, I don’t know exactly what my motivation was for doing the marathon. Sure, I can say it’s “something I’ve always wanted to do,” but I’ve also always wanted to go to Italy. I didn’t do it for any recognition; I told almost no one I was running it, not even my parents. (I called them the moment I crossed the finish line and said, “Guess what? I just ran the marathon.”)

I don’t understand motivation. I made myself train by telling myself, “I can’t waste the $80 registration fee I’ve already paid.” During the marathon, I told myself I had to finish because I really wanted to be able to wear the official commemorative long-sleeve t-shirt I’d received in my runner goodie bag.

I don’t get it: During the school year, for all the effort and money that contribute to being able to go to school here, I complete only a paltry amount of the schoolwork I am assigned. It’s a good day if I can actually get myself to do some reading, yet I regularly have to limit myself to one crossword puzzle a day.

After $40,000 a year, I often have to convince myself that going to class is worth the effort. On the other hand, I ran 26.2 miles for $80 and the chance to wear a T-shirt.

Still, the marathon definitely was worthwhile. I feel like I came through on a huge bet I made with myself. As my friend Rachel said, “I wanted to run the marathon so I’d never have to do it again.”

When I got home, I put “Marathon” on my resume in the skills section, right under “languages.” I don’t know if that’s what you’re supposed to put on a resume, but whatever. Who knows — maybe I ran the marathon for no reason other than to put it on my resume. Of course, next year, rest assured my goal will be to beat Chicken Man.

Holly Sonneland is a Weinberg senior. She can be reached at [email protected].