By Josh Hertzog   Published Oct 18, 2005 at 5:22 AM

Usually on the weekends, most Milwaukee 23-year-olds are making sure to catch up on sleep missed throughout the week. But, for me, I had a reason to get up early: the Chicago Marathon.

Crazy but true, running a marathon has been on my life-goals list, so I decided to partake in the experience upon graduating college. I wasn't in this alone (thank heaven), as two college friends, Mike Hacker and Andrew Broderick, were along for the ride.

So, as I awoke on last Saturday at 7:30 a.m. to meet the guys for the ride down to Illinois, I thought, "What did I just get myself into?"

But, as I packed my bag with my running shoes, headband, iPod and other running supplies, I cleared the sleep out of my eyes and realized I was ready for this. The three of us had been training since April, so there was nothing to worry about.

What also eased my mind was that I had trained with the right guy: Hacker. After knowing what's he's been through, he was the perfect runner to train with.

Hacker ran the Chicago Marathon in 2004, having no previous running experience. He looked strong the entire way and was well on his way to the finish line. Then, the most unfortunate of events occurred as Hacker suffered from heat stroke and fainted. The worst part? He was less than a mile from the finish line. His title of "marathoner" was erased, as he was unable to finish.

"Running the 2004 Chicago Marathon was a goal that I built up and made a major priority to accomplish," said Hacker.

"After months of training and dreaming, and 25 miles of running, reaching near exhaustion, to being able to see the finish line -- but unable to reach it -- was such a feeling of disappointment. It was a feeling of a goal not reached and some business to finish."

Since that day, Hacker has never forgotten what has happened. His goal became to get back out there and make sure to cross the finish line. After Andrew and I both heard this story, we couldn't refuse the offer to train and run in with him in the 2005 Chicago Marathon. Andrew and I both competed in cross-country in high school, so the idea of long distances didn't scare us much, although 26.2 miles is quite a bit farther than 3.2 miles.

Before getting in the car, Broderick looked at me and said in a partially astonished voice, "We're really doing this!"

We packed into Hacker's car and headed down to the Windy City to pick up our race number, purchase last-minute running gear and explore the many fitness booths at the Health & Fitness Expo the Chicago Marathon hosts the day before the race.

In this huge convention center, McCormick Place, I felt the energy, as a surge of excitement came over me. Thousands were walking around, race numbers and fitness goodies in hand.

I wasn't the only one, as the man in front of me in line turned and said, "I'm so excited."

As we walked around the Health & Fitness Expo, other participants would walk by, evaluating our running potential with a glance. We all felt pretty tough, even though for Andrew and me, this was our first marathon.

Next on the itinerary was an abbreviated driving tour of the marathon course. Dozens of local shops tucked in between towering skyscrapers, adorned with people on every block. It was a sight to see.

The day of rest and relaxation continued with a heavily carb-loaded meal of spaghetti and meatballs at the Hacker residence in Batavia, Ill. As we ate and watched college football and playoff baseball, the feeling sank in even more.

We were going to run a marathon tomorrow.

After a not-so-great night of sleep due to the many race day thoughts "running" through my head, I awoke at 5 a.m. to get ready for the longest run of my life. I was tired at first, but a volt of energy shot through me as I laced up the running shoes and pinned my race number to my shorts, #41730.

The marathon would start at 8 a.m., so the three of us made sure to get there early. Arriving around 6:45 a.m. after having only a banana for breakfast, we hopped out of the van and stripped down to running gear. It was chilly outside.

We had arrived: Grant Park in Chicago.

Runners were stretching, making their way to the restrooms and drinking water, along with every other pre-race ritual. We found a spot, grabbed some water and Gatorade and stretched out.

As 7:30 a.m. rolled around, we headed towards our spot at the starting line in the street. You could say we were a ways back from the Kenyan runners. There were 40,000 runners in the race, so we felt that being at the very front wasn't the right place to be, since that was the 5-minute mile (or faster) group.

As we stood and stretched a bit more, it got more and more packed in, with runners coming in from both sides. Before we knew it, there was almost no room to stretch further.

It was almost time.

Music blared from the speakers, with U2's "Elevation" getting the runners fired up. Layers of clothing were being removed at the last minute and tossed carelessly toward the curbside. Some clothing didn't make it to the side, hitting some runners in the face, who then tossed it out of the way.

Beloved Dukes of Hazard star (and Wisconsin native) Tom Wopat sang the national anthem, but got stuck at one point, causing a few runners to display a facial expression indicating, "Did he just mess up the national anthem?"

And then the announcement, "The 2005 Chicago Marathon is underway!"

A loud roar followed from the crowd and runners.

It took a while for the thousands of runners to get going, and after about nine minutes of walking, we reached the starting line. I hit the button on my watch, and we were off.

"The anticipation and excitement to cross the starting line of this year's marathon was fantastic," said Hacker. "You could literally feel the energy."

Of course, at the beginning of the race, I had to go to the bathroom. Thinking there would be nowhere to go was incorrect, as I witnessed runners going off the course and relieving themselves in alleys and on city buildings. I couldn't resist, and I also couldn't hold it much longer.

OK, now I was ready to run. I thought the race would be nerve-racking throughout as I tried to keep pace, but not lose my running partners. I was absolutely wrong. It was actually fun. I couldn't keep from smiling for the first four miles.

I had never seen so many people cheering and screaming. As I scrolled the city, all eyes were on us. It was incredible, reminding me of the part in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" when he sings in the downtown parade with the city streets packed.

I thought I was running for a good cause until I read a fellow runner's shirt that read, "You think a marathon is tough. Try chemotherapy." Right then, I knew this was more than just a run through the city.

There were other shirts too that caught our attention during the race.

"There was a quote on the back of a runner's shirt that read, 'Marathon: A 30K warm-up with a 10K race," said Hacker. "How true that is."

The marathon led us through all parts of Chicago, from downtown, to the United Center, to U.S. Cellular Field (or what people still call Comiskey) and back. Each section of the city provided a unique and diverse crowd, from the little children holding out their hands for a high five, to the old married couple banging on pots and pans as a means of cheering.

I couldn't resist high fiving the kids, and remember one saying afterwards, "All right!"

Family and friends met us at several different points along the course and cheered crazily, some taking pictures, some screaming and jumping up and down and some videotaping. It was an amazing thought-they came so far to see us run.

The mile markers kept adding up-four miles ...10 miles ...18 miles. When we reached the 20-mile marker, the smile that was on my face returned again. We were going to finish!

Running alongside the highway during miles 19-23 was horrible, as the cheering sections had diminished and the sun started to have its affect. This was the only point in the race I dreaded, as Hacker and Broderick felt the affects, as well.

And then we reached the last mile marker-25 miles. When I read, "One mile left" on the marker, the afterburners kicked in, and the celebration began as Hacker and I raised the roof to pump up the crowd. And it actually worked, as those who were once quiet woke up and cheered like never before. Broderick, an asthma sufferer, showed pure guts and kept trucking along as well, while his face showed the state of fatigue he was in.

I turned to him and said, "We got this, buddy."

And then, the final turn.

"As we made the final turn and could see the finish line straight ahead, I felt a pure rush of adrenaline," said Hacker. "I could see the goal that took two years of training, two years of dreaming and one fantastic day of running about to be accomplished."

I became overwhelmed with pride and joy, especially for Hacker, who had put so much into making this year's marathon a success. We skipped (probably not the best idea after running 26 miles) for the last .2 miles, raising the roof and clapping to once again pump up the crowd.

"The last .2 miles was the best I have felt running in my entire life," said Hacker. "Who knew it would take 26 miles to get to that point!"

"I couldn't have done it without the support of family and friends," Broderick added. "It was an exhilarating and powerful experience."

And when we crossed the finish line, we did it together, arms around each other. We ended the journey the way we started it -- together.