I've always been easy prey for peer pressure. Especially when it comes to running. The summer before my freshman year in high school, I had just returned from football camp when two of my friends dared me to run one practice with the cross country team. Only two people were faster that night, and suddenly I was a varsity runner.

Now that it's my job to surround myself with runners, cyclists and hikers (and the people who love them), I shouldn't be surprised that I was tempted to test myself against the best. That's how I found myself running 5 miles on a July morning in Chicago, going stride for stride with Bart Yasso, the authority on endurance, and Carey Pinkowski, executive director of the Chicago Marathon.

I told them that I was training for this fall's Kansas City half-marathon after not preparing wisely for last year's half. They, in turn, told me about the allure of the Chicago Marathon - it's flat, it's fast and it's fun. Oh, and it's full. Well, it couldn't woo me if there wasn't room for me. So I thought.

Turns out we had one unclaimed entry back at the office. With just 10 weeks to prepare and only 9-milers under my belt, I dismissed the notion of a last-minute training effort. Then I talked to Bart, to whom nothing is impossible. He sent me a custom schedule that would have me add three miles a week, then scale back, then add until I hit 20 miles a couple weeks before the marathon.

So I ran 12 that weekend with the help of my Forerunner 50. And felt good. Then a half-marathon the next week. But the next one was the test. 17 miles. I gave myself an ultimatum. If it hurt (I had ACL surgery a few years ago), I'd throw in the towel. If it didn't, I'd officially be training for my first marathon.

I'll tell you how it went next time.