I did it. For the second time in my life, I completed a 20-mile run. Not only does this number mark the height of many marathon training schedules, but for me it is also significant in that I've been here once before, and I broke down. My body suddenly decided it had been pushed too much and would not finish the training or run the marathon. So here I am in my post-20-miler week, hoping to make it through. After all, it was on an "easy" five-mile run that my injury occurred. And it was on a Thursday--tomorrow. I am admittedly somewhat superstitious, so my real feat will be getting past tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day--until I actually make it to Chicago on race day. In fact, I was talking to a run-club friend last night, who is also running Chicago, about our sudden fear of incurring a non-running injury in our daily lives--falling down some stairs, tripping on curb, or some other injury of klutz--that would prohibit us from making it to race day. I suddenly ...