Volunteering as a pace leader for the LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon
I've always found something magic about the LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon. Chicago is the home of my very first marathon, my first sub- 3:00 race, and where I was first introduced to my wife, Holly. After five LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathons, I began to wonder if perhaps some of the magic and inspiration of those first few races had faded. Then a friend steered me toward Dennis Linehan, the New Balance Pace Team Coordinator. In volunteering to be a pace leader, I was about to experience marathoning from a completely different perspective.

Linehan's enthusiasm for running is contagious. He offered me a choice of the remaining pace group vacancies: 3:10, 3:40, or 3:55. Although I was confident I could run a 3:10, I also wanted to allow some breathing room for, well ... breathing, so I volunteered for the next available slot: 3:40.

"By the way, that's the women's qualifying time for Boston, so you'll see a lot of very determined women throughout the race," Linehan said. This, I'd learn, was a huge understatement.

My long runs increased through the spring from distances in the low teens to those late summer pinnacle runs of 20+ miles. After a couple weeks of tapering, the big weekend finally arrived.

Saturday, October 21, 1:00 p.m.
The expo at McCormick Place is buzzing with thousands of runners anxious to put their carbo-loaded bodies to the ultimate test. All the pace leaders volunteered for a shift helping fellow marathoners register for the New Balance Pace Team. I can sense that a lot of people, particularly women 18-34, will be counting on us to pace them. My anticipation grows as I answer a variety of questions from, "What is this pace team thing all about?" to, "Where can I find you tomorrow?" I explain that joining a pace team is absolutely free and is a way to help participants achieve their goal time. Also, pace leaders can be identified by their New Balance uniforms and the pace signs they'll carry throughout the race. "I'll see you tomorrow," I promise those hoping to break 3:40.

Sunday, October 22, 7:45 a.m.
Although we'd exchanged a couple e-mails, I didn't meet most of my six fellow 3:40 pace team leaders until I arrived at the New Balance volunteer tent before the race. They'd all paced before and appeared relaxed, confident and ready for the day. I, on the other hand, shiver in the corral from nerves and a piercing northwest wind. Fortunately, I couldn't have asked for nicer teammates and my anxiety eases in the three minutes it takes to reach the start line.

To synchronize our watches, the six of us-Clark Gloyeske, Jim Harding, Krista Lawell, Eric Sommer, and our 3:40 captain Daniel "Deeter" Dietz- stand nearly shoulder-to-shoulder. Leaning over to see one another, our first team step across the starting line is so well-choreographed that I half-expect someone to break into, "Weeee're off to see the wizard..." The moment of truth has begun. My job now is to run as close to an 8:23 per mile pace for the next 26.2 miles. Keeping a consistent eye on Deeter, I know that as long as I don't loose sight of him, I'm safe. And on pace.

I keep my left hand securely around my 3:40 pace sign, and-as much as possible-my right hand outstretched to the wonderful marathon spectators lined all along the course. I'd somehow forgotten how their smiles, high-fives, and shouts of encouragement can keep my feet from ever touching the pavement. Their energy rushes through my veins and the idea of slowing or failing now seems impossible.

Serving as a pace leader for hundreds of 3:40 hopefuls becomes more rewarding and meaningful with each mile. One woman in particular stands out in my memory. She was never more than a few strides behind Deeter, our team captain. For ten miles I simply thought of her as the woman in the blue ski hat. Finally around mile 15, I make a point of asking her name. She introduces herself as Carol from Rhinecliff, New York. Having twice failed to break 3:40 in New York with a PR of 3:42, she'd decided to make the trek to Chicago.

"Well, you should have no problem today," I assure.

"I hope so," she replies.

A marathon is exhausting no matter the pace. By mile 22, my quads are burning but I want to finish with my team, as well as with Carol and the other determined runners who have put their trust in us. I swallow my final Power Gel and hope for the best. The strong crowd support along the Michigan Avenue finishing route is incredible and after completing mile 24 I know I am going to make it on pace.

Just after mile 25, I encourage Carol to make her move. "You've got this locked up. Go on ahead and finish strong."

But she refuses. "I don't think I can. I'm staying right here."

"If you insist," I joke, adding, "Don't worry. There's no way you're not breaking 3:40 today."

Milepost 26 could not have been better placed, just after the last turn onto Columbus Drive, in plain sight of the finish line. Nearing our final destination, my New Balance 3:40 pace team forms another horizontal row. Fifty yards to the end. Twenty. Ten. Striding across the finish mat as one, I hear an announcer acknowledging the team's arrival to the roar of the crowd. For the first time in hours, we slow to a walk and congratulate each other.

I spot Carol walking toward us from up ahead. She embraces each member of our team. "Thank you," she whispers to me with a smile. Every step, every mile, was worth those words of thanks. Carol's finish time was 3:39:48.

Later in the day, I learn that all six members of our pace team recorded a finishing chip time of exactly 3:40:00. Unbeknownst to me, in the high- tech world of electronic race scoring with obstacles such as wind, foot speed and even shoe style, this feat is nearly impossible.

I suppose I could equate the coincidence to beginner's luck. I certainly felt incredibly lucky through this entire experience. And with any luck, I'll be invited back as a New Balance pace leader for the LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon's 30th Anniversary on October 7, 2007. That also happens to be the 10-year anniversary of the day I met my wife, introduced a heartbeat's distance from the start line.

No one is ever going to tell me that the LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon doesn't know how to inspire. Or generate a little magic.

Jim Dahlquist lives in Springfield, Illinois, and serves on the board of the Springfield Road Runners Club. He can be reached at dahlquist2000@yahoo.com.