Marathon Man: It was a steep climb, but Lynner braves Chicago Marathon

For some it is gratifying, others grueling, but for most people it is a strange combination of both.For it is human nature to test limits. From a toddler disobeying its mother to an amateur runner disobeying their body, running a marathon is the most satisfying punishment I have ever experienced.Never a gifted athlete to begin with, just getting to the starting line was an accomplishment in itself. A nearly life-long struggle with rheumatoid arthritis had taken its toll, yet still the daily march to the treadmill seemed as routine as brushing my teeth.It was 18 months ago, while attending a four-day bachelor party in Las Vegas, that a couple of close friends decided to try a half marathon together ? which seemed like a good idea at the time.Upon our return home we both decided to train. And a few months later we accomplished 13.1 miles in the Hartford half marathon.Sure, 13 miles was a nice accomplishment. But now there was a larger goal to chase ? a bigger dream to dream.Sunday, Oct. 10, that dream was realized in the 87 degree blazing heat of the Chicago Marathon.There we stood, two lifelong friends about to attempt to accomplish something that less than one percent of the population on the planet will ever accomplish.To say that we were nervous would not begin to describe what we were feeling. We were, however, both comforted by the fact that we had trained, we were prepared and while 26.2 miles is never easy, it was attainable.About two hours into the race we crossed the 13-mile mark. And while some runners rejoiced, we both knew that the worst was still to come.By mile 16 our feet begin to talk. They tell you that they are sore from 16 miles of concrete pounding. And by mile 18, the brain begins to listen to the feet.Maybe human beings really aren’t supposed to run this far after all!Mile 20 is a tease. For a moment you allow yourself to think “almost done,” but then the realization sets in that there are still six painful miles waiting to inflict even more torture on an already frail body.For the first time in 18 months that thinking takes its toll and there was doubt, and, for a moment, defeat.I will never forget that last hour of that race. With a broken iPod, the sound of my breath and beating heart droned out the noise from the crowd. A friend’s advice came through: “just put one foot in front of the other.”That done, and five hours and 44 seconds after this odyssey had begun, it was over.Forty-five thousand people took on the 2010 Chicago Marathon, and while Samuel Wanjiru of Kenya earned first place, the 36,000 other runners who crossed the finish line went home knowing that just by finishing what they had started they also had won a race of their own: against the limits of the human body.Patrick Gilroy writes a weekly column for The Item on the Boston Celtics.