Well what can I say? I ran with Trixie and TriOK, both super mega hotties, and they were wearing French maid outfits. Yeahhh so OK I was too, kind of, but just the little bow around the neck and the apron. With pink bows on it. Don't judge me.

Anyway the run started out with the entire field, something like 200 people total did the full marathon, trekking into the woods. It was nose-to-ass for about the first two or three miles. I wasn't too impressed with the hills as I started, probably because my face was pretty much always in somebody's butt. I was just PRAYING nobody'd had breakfast burritos.

So after about the first mile my calves started hurting. After the first mile. I was concerned. The steep grades and loose rocks and stumps stickin out of the ground worried me greatly, but thankfully I just stared at Trixie's and TriOK's asses and all was right in the world. `Moments of clarity,' I call them, because it all became very clear that even if I tumbled down a hill, at least I could recall that, similar to Happy Gilmore's `Happy Place.'

Eventually the crowd thinned, runners ran by or we passed people, more of the former to start, and the three of us were chugging along at a decent clip and walking most of the hills. We were singing songs such as `I Like Big Butts' and `Sunshine Day' and even some `Candle in the Wind.' Yes, you know it's a long race when you sing Elton John.

The first loop was like getting hit by a bus. The second was like that same someone putting the bus in reverse and backin over you, then rinsing and repeating. After the first 13.1 I could tell my legs were lifting as high and my feet were scraping more rocks and stumps and roots. I stumbled a few times on the second loop, mostly because the only hills in Chicago are called `curbs.'

People complimented us on our choice of outfits, and one particular funnyman said `Nice outfits, ladies.' I said, `What about ME!?' to which the comedian said `We were trying not to look at YOU.' Smartass.

So on and on it went, for more than 5.5 hours, singing and dancing and running and stumbling through the woods. It was a great time, but I have to admit despite the sweet, sweet pace booty, the last two or three miles really frickin' sucked, as the last two or three miles of a marathon do. I openly cursed the last few hills and was elated at seeing the finishers chute approaching. I raised my arms and let everybody know that my running partners were indeed my beetches and that I was indeed A PIMP! Despite the pink bows and lace.

Not fall for `Hey, Tony, it's Trixie and TriOK. We just bought some French maid outfits. Wanna come up here next weekend and get all dirty and sweaty with us?'

Stripped and jumped into the lake. It was FREEEZING! Like an ice bath. After a few minutes the legs adjusted and I could feel nothing. I reckon that's why I'm only 18 shades of sore today instead of 46.


Did you NOT read the RR? There were HILLS!


Maybe could've had a couple more water stops as the heat toward the end was starting to get brutal. It must've risen to 85 degrees by the time we finished. It was HOT! Otherwise a fantabulous race and a great time! Plus the fact that women wanted me and men wanted to BE me because of my running buddies made it all that much better. Not bad for my fifth 'thon. Good times!