The Chicago Marathon

Date: October 11, 2015

Location: Chicago, IL 

This is it, I am about to run in one of the Majors. One of the six largest and most famous marathons in the world. I’m standing in the starting corral, jiggling my legs partly to keep warm and partly to calm the butterflies flailing around in my stomach. Looking around, I see hundreds of faces showing the same emotions I’m feeling. Resolve, anxiety, excitement, and a little bit of dread. Because when you’re about to run 26.2 miles as fast as you possibly can, you know you’re in for a long, painful, glorious morning. How can something be both painful and glorious, you ask? Well, let me tell you.

Chicago has become almost a second home to me since I moved to Indiana. Or, rather the place I go when I need an escape from Indiana. I was ecstatic when I found out I got into this marathon because I’d been looking forward to running it for years. Unfortunately, Jin wasn’t so lucky in the lottery drawing, BUT that meant that I would have my #1 fan there cheering me on! And that meant that for the first time ever, SIGNS WITH MY NAME ON THEM!! Every runner’s dream.

Jin and I arrived in Chicago on Saturday and met up with my friend Si and her  fiancé Nathan at the expo. Si would be running too and we were both geeking out. As self-proclaimed obsessed running nerds, we were super excited to be running this race alongside so many elites. (And by "alongside" I mean far, far behind). After spending too much money at the huge expo, it was time for a pasta dinner, then bed. But I slept horribly. I mean, one of the worst nights of sleep I’ve ever gotten. We were staying at my friend Nicole’s place and there were 6 of us there, but only two of us running. So the non-runners, understandably, were out much later than the runners. Every time someone came home, I would jolt awake, heart pounding, and it would take at least half an hour for me to fall back asleep again. Apparently I was more nervous about what awaited me in the morning than I’d thought. In total I got about 3 hours of very broken sleep.

I woke up at 4am feeling groggy and nauseous. Si and I silently went about our race morning routine. It was early and cold, and I wanted nothing more than to get back under the warm, safe covers. But then I would remind myself, this isn’t just any old marathon, this is Chicago. 

But the morning only got worse when our Uber driver got pulled over for speeding in a construction zone. I was freaking out about getting into my corral in time because I’d heard so many horror stories about it from reading other blogs. So we got out and walked the rest of the way to Grant Park. I was right to worry. It took me nearly half an hour just to get into the starting area. There were so many people! Once in, I hurried across the park to drop off my checked back, then hustled back to the corral, and prayed the porta-potty line wasn’t too long. I made it in my corral with only minutes to spare.

Standing in the corral for those few minutes was like a calm between storms. I’d been so stressed and rushed all morning I hadn’t really had a chance to ponder what I was about to do. I closed my eyes. This is it. Time passed in slow motion, sounds were muted. I tuned everything out and got in my zone. And then… we were off.

As I crossed the starting line, all the stress of the past few hours melted away. In the very first mile, we ran through a long tunnel and everyone cheered and hollered. The echoes engulfed me and I was filled with both excitement and calm; a mix of emotions that can only be achieved when running. I was expecting this to be a great race for me because my training had gone superbly. I didn’t set any particular time goals, so my one and only goal was to PR, but I fully expected that it would be a big PR. I decided to start with the 3:50 pace group which would be running 8:45 min/mile – the pace I’d kept for most of my long training runs.  So if I was able to stick with them, I was looking at a ten minute PR. I wasn’t sure if I could actually hit that, but I figured there was no harm in trying.

Mile 2 was the most memorable mile for me. We crossed over a bridge and found ourselves running straight into the heart of the towering buildings. I pulled out my GoPro just in time to capture this moment. Once downtown, I knew that Jin and Nate would be somewhere in the crowds soon, so I constantly scanned the faces lining the course for them. Finally, there they were! My heart leapt, I was overjoyed to see Jin (and the signs!) and to hear them cheering for me.

The next few miles were a blur. We headed north for a long time. To me, the course map looks like an electric guitar, and so here I was heading up the guitar’s neck out of the busy downtown area. But the crowds were still fantastic the whole way up. I was so busy watching them go by, seeing all the silly signs and listening to them cheer… I practically forgot I was running. The volunteers were amazing too, never failing to offer words of encouragement along with each water cup. The scenery changed around mile 5 when we ran by the zoo – it was green everywhere, but the cheering crowds were just as thick.

Before I knew it, six miles had already come and gone. I passed over the 10K timing mats, and imagined my friends and family across the country getting an update. I was still keeping a steady 8:45 pace and feeling good. There was one small problem though, which I knew would turn into a big problem later. Blisters. I’d struggled with them on every long run ever since I got my new shoes. Nothing I did could stop them. They would still form under Band-Aids or athletic tape, or even special blister pads. And I’m talking HUGE ASS blood blisters. (Sorry if this is grossing you out). If I was already feeling them now, I cringed at the thought of how bad they’d be after 20 more miles.

Mile 7 was on Inner Lake Shore Dr, and for the first time I got a glimpse of the water with Belmont Harbor to the right. After that, we turned around to head south again, down the neck of the guitar. Immediately the scenery shifted. We were running on Broadway near Wrigleyville and the street was lined with shops, bars, and restaurants. The crowds were amazing here. Once again, I got so distracted watching all the people I forgot I was running. There were drag queens and cheerleaders giving us mini performances as we ran by. I couldn’t help smiling, I was so happy to be running these streets and to be a part of this huge event.

Sometime during mile 8, I saw a large gathering of people just off the course. They were taking pictures and celebrating and I vaguely registered a wooden archway with an unmistakable collection of running medals hanging from it. At the time, I had no idea what was going on, but later I found out from a news article that I’d just witnessed a wedding! Two of the runners in the corral before me had stopped for a few minutes to get married! Then jumped back on the course to run 18 more miles together as newlyweds. (Possible future life goal?)

I was still with the 3:50 pace group when I crossed the 15K timing mats. The next few miles continued through some residential areas. When I realized I’d been running for about an hour and a half, I forced myself to eat something. I’m never very hungry when I run so I literally have to force myself. After a while the high-rises of downtown came back into view and I knew the halfway point was coming up. Once back in the heart of downtown I started scanning the crowds again for Jin and Nathan. I saw them with signs held high, and I waved frantically at them as I turned right onto Adam’s street to start the trek around the body of the guitar. Soon after, I crossed the 13.1 mile marker. Halfway there!

The joy I felt from seeing my friends carried me through the next few miles, which is good because I was starting to slow down. My pace was now between 8:50 and 9 minute miles. Surprisingly, I didn’t panic. Since I didn’t have a specific time goal, it took a lot of pressure off. I told myself, just run how you feel. I hoped that this was just a rough patch, and my pace would pick up again. But the pain of my blisters was getting unbearable, and so was the heat from the unrelenting sun. The mileage on my Garmin was getting significantly off from the course markers because the streets were so wide and I wasn’t running the tangents. This meant I’d pass a mile marker nearly a half-mile after my watch said I’d passed it. This was definitely not helping my pace.

Mile 16 was my slowest mile yet when my pace dipped to slower than 9 min/mile. I told myself it would be my slowest mile. Period. I knew I couldn’t slow down much more if I had any hope of getting that big PR. Why wasn’t I feeling as good as I’d felt during my 20-miler? I was only 16 miles in and already running slower than that training run. The answer had to be the heat. The morning started out at a perfect 50 degrees, but the temperature kept creeping steadily higher to 70. And the sun was in full force. I’d discovered just how sensitive I was to heat earlier this year and I realized with growing dread that today would be no different. My only hope was to make sure I stayed hydrated. I was taking at least one Gatorade and water cup at every aid station.

When I finished mile 17, I realized I was now in the coveted single digits zone and the end finally felt within reach! This gave me the second wind I was hoping for and my pace picked up quite a bit. But it didn’t last long. In mile 19 I clocked a 9:30 mile. This was not good. At this point I was deep into a runner’s coma, slipping out of space and time. I had no sense of where I was on the course despite having stared at the map so many times prior to the race. At some point I’d passed UIC and Little Italy where I’d had my first deep dish pizza a few years ago, but I hardly noticed. I knew I should eat something but my stomach was so full, sloshing around from all the liquids I was drinking. And all the while, the sun continued to beat down relentlessly.

When I passed the 20-mile marker I did a serious evaluation of my time. My watch said I’d been running for 2 hours and 58 minutes. This meant I was still in good shape for a PR as long as I didn’t slow down much more, but I knew it wouldn’t be the big PR I had expected coming into the race. I tried not to be too disappointed. As I’ve said so many times before, this kind of thing just comes with the territory of running marathons. No matter how well you may have prepared, you just never know what race day will bring or how you’ll feel.

And I was feeling pretty awful. The next few miles passed in a blur. I tried to focus on the crowds and the course, but honestly, compared to the rest of the course, this part was not nearly as exciting. After passing through Chinatown, we were now running parallel to I-90. It was wide open with no hope of shelter from the ruthless sun, and the crowds were sparse here too. Somehow it looked and felt like I was constantly running up a gradual hill. It was brutal, and I wanted nothing more than to be done running.

I allowed myself to walk for longer than necessary at water stations. My blisters were getting unbearable. I was relieved to finally reach the 23-mile marker, but that mile had been my slowest yet at 9:50. I started panicking. After all the hard work I put into training this year, what if I don’t even PR?! I couldn’t let that happen, so I gave myself a much-needed pep talk. All you have left is a 5K, you can endure any pain for just 3 miles. Just keep giving it your all, and don’t forget, no matter what happens, you’re about to finish the Chicago Marathon!!  

It worked – each of the next three miles I got increasingly faster. I turned onto Michigan Ave for the last 2.5 mile stretch that would take us back to Grant Park. The crowds got thick again near the 40K mark and I could finally see the skyscrapers in the distance. Downtown was so close! In my head, a constant battle was occurring. Everything hurts. This is terrible, Why do you keep putting yourself through this again? Then, This is amazing, just look around you! Look at what you’re a part of! The power of the crowds was overwhelming. I had the brief, slightly deranged thought that we, the runners were like blood, coursing through the veins of Chicago, and the crowds and volunteers were the heartbeat, keeping us moving.

At long last, I had only 1 mile to go, and my confidence grew because I knew for certain now that I would get a PR. Tears started welling in my eyes and I scanned the swarms of people lining the course for Jin who I knew would be waiting for me just before the 26 mile marker. I turned right on Roosevelt, and there he was! Sign held high and beaming as he cheered for me. There were a TON of people here, so clearly he’d had to fight his way to the front so that I’d be able to see him. I got overwhelmed with emotion at the thought of that and burst up the last little hill that would take me to the entrance of Grant Park.

Once I turned left into the park, there it was!! The finish line!! It was so close, I gathered every bit of remaining strength to sprint down the stretch to the finish. I couldn’t believe it, I was about to finish my eighth marathon. THE CHICAGO MARATHON. And I was about to do it in my fastest ever time. I ran under the finishing arch and a mix of relief and elation washed over me. I raised my arms in victory, but my face says it all in this finishing photo. Thank god I can stop running now.

My Garmin told me that I’d PR’d by 2 minutes! 3:57:42. And since I’d actually run closer to 27 miles with all the wide turns, I considered this a win. I’d come to Chicago with the goal of running my fastest ever marathon, and after battling heat, sun, sleep depravity, blisters, and that ever-present voice tempting me to slow down, I’d done it!! Goal accomplished.

My happiness couldn’t even be hampered by the fact that walking the mile from the finish line to the finishers’ area was almost more brutal than the race. My hamstrings completely seized up and were totally useless. I had to walk with straight stilt legs, and on top of that was the fact that I could barely put weight on my right foot due to excruciating blister pain. I wanted to sit down in the shade along the edge of the path and stretch badly, but if you so much as made a move to sit down, a race volunteer would be on you in a heartbeat asking if you needed medical attention, and if not, you were forced to keep moving.

Once I finally got my chance to stretch, drink some chocolate milk, take off my shoes, and meet up with Jin, Si, and Nathan in the post-race party area, I felt much better. It turned out that Si PR’d too, and finally reached her goal of a sub-4:00 marathon!! We celebrated with post-race massages and 312 beer.

Relaxing on the lawn in the park, I looked up at the skyline that I’ve come to know and love over the past four years. Although I’ll be moving to the east coast in a few short months, Chicago will always hold a special place in my heart. Music festivals, holiday shenanigans, countless brunches and cocktails… now I can add running 26.2 miles to my list of Windy City adventures. In a way, it was the perfect way to say goodbye. The sheer energy of the city and its people helped carry me through in my worst moments, and celebrated with me when I felt my best. I couldn’t have asked for more.