Almost exactly a year ago I wrote a recap of my Baltimore Marathon experience (can be seen here: https://lifeafterchildloss.net/the-evolution-of-a-marathon/). The actual marathon was October 9, 2021, exactly 1 year before the Chicago marathon! The Baltimore marathon was not my day and I was looking for some sort of redemption. During my winter training for the spring marathon I was in the best shape I had been in for a long time and knew a Boston qualifying time was in reach. But then injury struck and I did not get my redemption. After that I just hoped I would be recovered enough to run the Chicago marathon.
I’m not able to recap the Chicago marathon the way I recapped Baltimore in part because I just don’t know Chicago so I don’t remember certain streets or where certain miles were, etc., but also because it was just so incredible and I was having so much fun (until I wasn’t, read on for the details) that nothing stood out for me in any particular area. It was all just great and the miles blurred together. I will do my best to share my feelings and emotions throughout the day, and really the whole weekend.
We arrived in Chicago Friday night, too late to do anything but settle in and try to relax a bit before the busy weekend ahead. The check-in line was long but the excitement was palpable. Mostly runners, all there with different goals but the same purpose, to run a great city. Saturday morning I joined a very large group for a shakeout run put on by Tracksmith Running. I was looking forward to meeting Tina Muir, former elite runner, and host of the Running for Real podcast. She is open to sharing her vulnerabilities so I felt comfortable approaching her to tell her my story and how a recent podcast guest who lost his son to cancer, resonated with me. We chatted a bit and I shared my story with her on the run as part of her podcast (neat episode, lots of different stories). The run was beautiful with lovely scenery and even lovelier people. I was nervous about my leg so it was a confidence booster to get out there and run a few easy miles. Really helped the nerves settle but also build the anticipation for the race the next day.
After this we hit the expo to pick up my race packet. I was looking forward to this but once there was completely overwhelmed. The crowds were ridiculous (which makes sense, over 42,000 runners descended upon Chicago) and after looking in a few booths David and I both felt the need to get out of there. Was a bit disappointed that I couldn’t just take it all in but I knew for my sanity it was not a good idea to continue to try to navigate the crowds. It would just exhaust me so instead of spending hours there we relaxed a bit before a pasta dinner, followed by dessert with his sister and family. We don’t get to see them often and it was a joy to spend some time with the kids whom we haven’t seen since 2016, when we took Ariella there to visit. My niece reminds me so much of Ariella that it was like she was there with us. The eye rolls, the attitude, the way she spoke. But by the same note, Ariella loved her cousins and they adored her, and her absence was glaring. But we talked about her and reminisced and before we knew it it was time to head back to the hotel for much needed sleep.
Sunday morning. Alarm goes off at 4:30. It’s race day!!! I got flat me ready last night so I wouldn’t forget anything this morning. I even made sure to have Ariella’s lucky panda tucked into the pocket of my hydration belt. I do all the things and join the thousands of runners heading to the start line. There is a buzz in the air, it’s electrifying. Not feeling too nervous yet, or much of anything else, just cold! Take in some more food and hit the bathroom a few times and then head into my start corral about 20 minutes before my wave starts and that’s when it all just hits me. What I’ve been through to get there. What I’ve overcome. Who I’m running for. Ariella literally on my back. All those that can’t run. That I don’t have to do this but I GET to do this. And I just start crying. And I don’t mean some quiet tears escaping, I mean full on bawling. And I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one. There was lots of nervous energy and the last 10 minutes before the start of the wave lasted a lifetime. Finally it’s time for wave 2 to start but as I was in the second corral of wave 2 I didn’t cross the start line until 8 minutes later. Oh but what I feeling once I did! The months of training, the injuries, the leg that’s not quite right, all the things that threatened to keep me from running this race, all in the past. As I stepped over that start line all I said to myself was “I am going to finish this race.”
Runners have different goals when running a marathon and though I said over and over (more to convince myself) that I wasn’t expecting to reach my A goal, and that wasn’t even my goal for this race since I was coming back from injury, it really was my goal. My A goal was a Boston qualifying time (3:50), B goal was sub-4:00 and C goal was to finish with a PR. And through 2/3 of the race I thought the farfetched was actually within reach. For 18 miles of the race I felt great! The first mile was electric. The crowd support cannot be described and I felt like I was flying. I was careful not to go out too fast. I was soaking it all in. The noise and cheers of the crowd, the music, the shared experiences. I saw David and after hitting that 1st mile mark I thought, that was easy, just 25 more to go! And it was easy. I was having so much fun and nothing could stop me. My pace was comfortable and I picked it up just a little after the first 10K. I wasn’t looking at my watch (which wasn’t accurate for most of the race anyway, hitting the miles too early) but just running by feel. I actually felt like my A goal was achievable. When I felt like I may be pushing too hard, I pulled back. I was trying to run smart and it was truly exhilarating. Nearing the halfway point I saw David again amongst hundreds of other people and was happy to still be feeling strong at that point. I allowed myself to imagine crossing the finish line achieving everything I wanted, but was still cautious. And it’s a good thing I was. Around mile 18 was when I thought I was in serious trouble. Out of seemingly nowhere both calves started cramping. That wasn’t enough to stop me initially but it certainly slowed me down and I saw my A goal slipping away along with the 3:50 pacing group. I almost wish it hadn’t felt like that goal was within reach because it made it that much harder when it disappeared with “just” 8 miles to go. I was begging my body to keep going, to not quit on me. To allow me to just run through it. I was thinking of Ariella, all the pain she went through and how she came through even stronger, how it didn’t crush her spirit even a little bit. And I kept running. And then I had to stop. I had to stretch. And I just started crying. I was so frustrated. I did everything I was supposed to do. The only thing slowing me down were the cramps. And they wouldn’t let up. The remainder of the race went on like that. I would run as long as I could at a pace my legs could handle and stretch when needed. I began walking through the water stops to give them even more of a rest. I downed pickle juice at mile 22 which is supposed to stop cramps in their tracks, but did nothing for me. Was hoping at some point they would just go away, but they didn’t. The sun was beating down and I started feeling really hot but I did not go that far to only go that far. Ariella never quit so neither would I. Between miles 22 and 23 you could see the sign for mile 24 on the other side of the road and I cannot express how much I just wanted to cut the course and get to mile 24! I didn’t of course but that 24 mile marker was just there, taunting all of us running by before we could make that turn to head back down towards the finish. At mile 23 I did the math and realized that a sub 4:00 marathon was within reach. To force myself to keep running I would find various markers and tell myself I just had to run to that marker, and then the next, and then the next. Less than 30 minutes to go, less than 20 minutes, less than 10 minutes, less than 5. I can do anything for 5 minutes. I know for sure that B goal is going to be achieved. At the top of a hill just 200 meters to go. Most were groaning up the hill but I welcomed it because my calves felt much better running up that hill rather than on the flat ground (plus that hill was nothing compared to what I trained on!). I practically sprinted up that hill. And then turn the corner and the finish line is in sight. I gave it everything I had. And I came in at 3:56:22, a 24 minute PR and my B goal for sub-4. Frankly I’m glad if I wasn’t going to make 3:50 that I wasn’t super close because I think that would have been more frustrating. I crossed the finish line and just started sobbing again. Tears of joy and tears of frustration. It wasn’t the race I wanted. But it was for a large part of it. I limped my way through the finish area, got my gear, changed, and then made the seemingly endless walk to meet David.
I was on a high the rest of the day. As we spent time in the city we could easily identify the runners by their awkward walking gaits (and of course the medals and other marathon gear)! All of us that ran wore our medals with pride the rest of that day. All around you could hear people talking about the race, their successes and disappointments, their accomplishments, their favorite signs, what it meant to them. The magic was still in the air as the city was overtaken by runners. As for us ,we spent time with dear friends of ours, also members of the childhood cancer community. Ariella and their daughter Ava were immediate friends and remained great friends in the short time they knew each other. Of course Ariella’s absence was once again at the forefront of my mind during our dinner but we were sure to leave her mark behind.
And just like that it was our last day in Chicago. We went to Under Armour to get my medal engraved, had a delicious breakfast and then headed home. The airport, just like the city, was taken over by runners and it was fun to be among them. I have run other big races before, Marine Corps Marathon in 2001 and NYC Marathon in 2006 but this one felt extra special. Maybe because with the advent of social media there is much more awareness about the race and activities surround the race, and more hype. Maybe it’s because more and more people seem to be taking up running. Being a part of a training group and also social media groups builds up the anticipation to race day. There is so much support and encouragement it’s impossible to not get caught up in the excitement. And following the race there are so many ways to share our stories. The city of Chicago, the various neighborhoods, the people, made this experience exceptional. I pushed through, didn’t quit, and had the experience of a lifetime. As for what’s next, I’m not sure. After the Baltimore marathon I was immediately ready to sign up for another race for my redemption. This time, not so much. This training cycle and race beat me up and I’m looking forward to a couple of weeks of no strenuous activity before deciding what I will do next. Thanks to all who supported and followed me on this road to marathon redemption. I was disappointed when I had to cancel my spring marathon but this marathon more than made up for it. And yet I know I still have room to grow so stay tuned!
