Now this could only happen to a guy like me
And only happen in a town like this
So may I say to each of you most gratefully
As I throw each one of you a kiss
This is my kind of town, Chicago is
My kind of town, Chicago is
My kind of people too
People who smile at you
I’ve never been to Chicago before, but this one visit has me hooked! Sure, it’s home to the second marathon I’ve ever run and my current PR, but even before those historic (to me) events, I felt a weird sort of bond with the place. Coming from earthquake country, I’m just not used to seeing so many tall buildings. And it sits on a huge lake that rivals any ocean in scope — at least scope that humans can perceive. I’d like to come back for a real visit someday. But now, it’s time to recap the race weekend.
Day Zero (Thursday, October 9th):
I took today off because I knew there would be things I needed to do that I wasn’t able to do while I was cranking work out so I could leave. That gave me plenty of time to go over my mental checklists, get things ready for Laura to care for the cats while I was gone and pack my things.
Everything went smoothly. Naturally, this made me nervous.
Day One (Friday, October 10th):
I left the house a little late, but since I planned to leave a little early, it worked out. Hit the ATM on the way to the airport and got there with a little time to spare. My first stop was Las Vegas. Well, McCarran International Airport.
All flights into the Midwest were being delayed due to a recent fire at an air traffic control building that covers the whole region, so my flight from LAS to MDW was supposed to be delayed by 1 hour. My original layover was supposed to be 50 minutes, so I thought this would give me plenty of time to wander around and find something to eat. Air traffic control had other ideas.
Just after I sat down to eat my turkey sausage and egg wrap and drink my coffee, I noticed people lining up at the gate. Apparently, Las Vegas doesn’t make enough money off of visitors to afford a decent PA system because I never heard the announcement that my flight had begun boarding! So I stuffed half of the egg wrap in my food hole and dashed off. This is where early bird check-in started to pay off. I already had an A-group pass, so even though I was a little late, I still got a good seat with the tail end of the A group.
I landed and got on the L train’s Orange Line to The Loop. I was excited about riding the train until I overheard one passenger talking to another about someone robbing an entire train car a few weeks ago.
Welcome to Chicago. Here’s your three-day supply of paranoia.
Since I have some degree of “street smarts,” I knew better than to walk around downtown Chicago with my face stuck in a smartphone and a suitcase in tow. I had a rough idea of where I was going, but 2D maps have no way to convey how easy it is to get lost in Chicago’s 3D street layout. I ended up walking over the river until I found a spot where I felt safe to pull out my phone and find my way to the team hotel. Luckily, my crude sense of direction had only led me astray by about a quarter of a mile. I could see the hotel from where I stood.
After I got settled into my room, the emails began flying around about who was there and what people were doing for dinner. Since I hadn’t budgeted time for sightseeing, my only goal, outside of setting a new PR in the marathon, was to eat some genuine Chicago deep-dish pizza. So I connected with some teammates who were on the same dinner schedule and we walked to Giordano’s.
The place was packed; the hostess said the wait was about an hour, but we could order our pizza at that time and it would be ready soon after we were seated. Since we didn’t have anything better to do, we hung around the crowded waiting area and chatted until our name was called.
It was worth it.
Afterward, I met a few other teammates for a nightcap at the hotel bar. It was a great way to start a great weekend.
Day Two (Saturday, October 11th):
SueMac and I had to pick up our race packets, so we dashed off the the expo shuttle bus with our dedicated team manager Lorri. Once we got there, Lorri just stayed on the bus waiting for it to go back to the drop off area. She just wanted to make sure we made it to the expo. That’s dedication!
Everything was so well organized, it was amazing. When I walked up to this Packet Pick-Up sign, the woman on the right scanned the QR code on my phone (which was integrated with Apple’s Passbook app!) and told me which line had my stuff. In the ten seconds it took me to get to that line (which only had one person in it), my stuff was already waiting for me. Pretty impressive. Wish I could say the same for the rest of the expo, but I guess there’s only so much running stuff you can cram into an expo hall before it all starts to look the same. I bought a Nike Chicago Marathon long-sleeve t-shirt because the official race tech tee was pretty boring.
There’s nothing on the back, either. Yawn.
Nike had a cool display that helped you visualize the course and the names of the neighborhoods we’d be running through. I thought it looked kind of like an assault rifle with a deformed suppressor, which is kind of appropriate for Chicago, the murder capital of the US, in a morbid way.
There was also a graffiti wall, so I left a shout out to two of our honorees: Team Sylvia and Team Marie.
To see my dedication, click on the picture and a larger version will open in a new window.
Before we left the expo, Sue wanted to meet Bart Yasso at the Runner’s World magazine booth. I’m not too star-struck, but I do like to thank people when their advice has helped me. I’ve been a big fan of Runner’s World writer Jenny “Coach Jenny” Hadfield since I started running, so when she was also at the booth, I shook her hand and told her how much I appreciated her column. I told Bart how much his “Yasso 800s” workout tortured me and he laughed. As we were making awkward chitchat, he mentioned how nice the weather was going to be (after the race day forecasts had predicted up to a 50% chance of rain earlier in the week). He said, “that should make it fun.” I looked at him and said, “You mean it’ll make it less painful!” He really got a kick out of that 🙂
Then some of us had lunch at a nice chop house across the river from the hotel. On the way, I took a boring picture of buildings and worked on my selfie technique.
After lunch, I got my race gear together. I also worked on my selfie technique a little more.
For the past few events, I’ve worn three good luck charms to help me push through the hard times.
My “Team Marie” button was given to me by my cycle team bro John Garza during our Tour de Cure ride to benefit the American Diabetes Association. His daughter Marie lost her battle to blood cancer before doctors even had a chance to accurately diagnose it. He is a constant source of inspiration and earned the nickname “Iron John” when he completed a 140.3-mile “long course” triathlon with Team in Training.
My “Team Sylvia” button was a fundraiser for Sylvia Casillas, 2X leukemia survivor who is currently recovering from a stem cell transplant. She is one of the strongest women I know (true fact: I say that about all cancer survivors).
The third is a patch created by members of the Hawk List in memory of Steve “Da Gadfaddah” Lenac. Jersey Steve was one of the toughest, nicest guys you could ever hope to not-quite-meet-on-the-internet. He was kind of like a father figure for the Hawk List: quick with soothing supporting words or a blunt New Jersey-ism, whichever the situation called for. He survived cancer, but succumbed to heart disease while leading a motorcycle tour through the fall foliage in New England (IIRC). He literally died doing the two things he loved: helping people and riding motorcycles. The small “YFG” stands for “you fuckin’ guys!” which I am told is a term of endearment for Jersey folks. And I choose to believe that 😉
Dressing your chair is a time-honored TNT tradition. You basically lay out your clothing as if you were wearing it, starting with what you’d wear on your head and ending with your shoes. It helps you visualize anything that might be missing…before it’s too late. Here’s mine.
The TNT Inspiration Dinner was inspirational, as always, and featured the hilarious John “the Penguin” Bingham, as always (for the big running events). That guy really knows how to work a crowd and his attitude toward running really melds with the TNT philosophy that it’s not where you finish that matters, but that you participate, have fun and make a difference.
After a short team meeting to go over the schedule for race day, we went to bed. I thought I’d get a decent amount of sleep, but I only got about 2 hours, then woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep until right before my alarm went off. But it’s cool. Like I tell my participants: don’t worry about it because you won’t fall asleep on the bike or while you’re running.
Day Three, Race Day (Sunday, October 12th):
We gathered in the hotel lobby between 5:30 and 6:00am with the intention of walking over as a team and flooding the streets of Chicago with purple TNT race jerseys. This was one of those ideas that sounds a lot better than it works because most people realized that that was WAY too early to start lining up for an 8:00am start and those of use who did walk over together were bundled up in jackets and trash bag ponchos lovingly made by Coach Tim.
But we had a super-pleasant surprise waiting for us. Coach Meghan flew out — on her own dime — and would try to get on the race course without a bib to support us. I was too asleep to really appreciate what that meant for all of us (and she was a little underwhelmed by my underwhelming response to seeing her) but she would later save my ass race at around Mile 22.
So this is what Chicago looks like at the crack of dawn. Exciting, no?
Gradually, the sun came up and we got a little warmer. Then the gun went off and the elites were on the course. 58 minutes later — when they had reached the 11-mile mark — I crossed the starting line.
The Race:
I was really struck by how beautiful Chicago was. The architecture is great and the various neighborhoods we ran through each have a distinct personality. Okay, some of them aren’t exactly postcard-perfect, but that just gave you a frame of reference. More important, the people EVERYWHERE were fantastic, always cheering and looking like they were having a great time supporting us.
Unfortunately, I was very focused on having a good race, so I didn’t stop to take any pictures along the way. The lone exception was a selfie by the porta-potties, which is kind of a (no pun intended) running joke with my friend Paulie. She always takes selfies during her runs and, invariably, there will be at least one porta-potty in the background somewhere. So, here’s my tribute to Paulie, taken at the Mile 19 aid station. (Oversharing Alert: the only reason I stopped was because I actually had to use one of those.)
The race itself was close to perfect: flat, cool and not too windy. I was going to try for a negative split (running the second half of the race faster than the first) AND get a PR (personal record). So, my strategy was to alternate running a 12:00min/mile pace for five minutes and walking a 17:00min/mile pace for one minute. The trouble was the tall buildings blocked the GPS satellite signals and I couldn’t tell how fast I was running. After the first few miles, I knew I was going too fast and tried to slow down, but by then it was too late. So I created new plan: just keep that regular pace going as long as I could, then adjust the ratio of run:walk until I found a ratio that worked until I crossed the finish line. It kind of worked. I ended up running the second half only 10 5 minutes slower than the first half, which is exactly what I did during my first marathon. (Edited for math, at which I suck.)
Speaking of Mile 19, that short break to pee and take a picture gave my body a taste of what it was like to stop running. It liked it. A lot. It liked it so much that I found that I wasn’t quite the same afterward. Even though I was taking a regular dose of electrolyte capsules every hour and drinking Gatorade at almost every aid station, my left leg started cramping. Everything hurt a little more. And every step was a little heavier than before.
I think I hit the wall at Mile 21. Fortunately, that’s when I saw Meghan.
We ran together and I was telling her that I was fine, just cramping a little. Then I felt one really come on and I had to stop and stretch it out. She asked me if I wanted any salt and I told her, “no, I’m taking Endurolytes.” Then she asked me again if I wanted any.
We endurance athletes kind of have a rule of thumb that says if someone says “no” to assistance three times, you have to listen to them because if you keep bugging them, they’re going to rip your head off and/or you’re going to plant a bad thought in their heads. But the reverse is also true that if someone offers you assistance three times, maybe you should consider taking it because at some point late in every event, you lose your objectivity and all you can focus on is finishing.
So I said, “okay, maybe I’ll have some.” She gave me a couple of packets of table salt — probably less than 1/4 teaspoon each — and I poured one in my mouth.
It tasted good.
Normally, a bunch of pure salt all by itself tastes gross. But my first cycle team head coach used to carry around a small container of salt on rides. He said that he’d dip his finger in it every few rest stops and if it tasted good, that meant his body needed salt and he’d take another little bit. But if it tasted bad, he’d just put the container away until the next stop.
Since the first one tasted good, I took another and washed them both down with a healthy swig of water. By Mile 23, I was starting to feel better. Still, I took the third and final packet of salt. It didn’t taste as good as the first two.
By now, I was in the home stretch. Several TNT coaches ran with me to check on me, including Coach Tim. We had a nice chat (from what my run-addled brain can remember). I was in really good spirits even though I knew I wasn’t going to achieve my goal of breaking the 5:30 mark. Furthermore, I was prepared for the finish, thanks to Coach Jenny.
Less than a quarter mile from the finish, the course turns right onto Roosevelt Road and you see “Mount Roosevelt.” This sick joke of an incline can really demoralize you if you’re not ready for it. But because I read her advice, I knew it was only 10′ tall and I told myself, “Hell, I’m a Californian. That’s not a hill to us!” I actually increased my effort running up that bump and that translated to a burst of speed all the way to the finish line!
Paulie actually knew my time before I did and sent me this pic. 5 hours, 34 minutes, 38 seconds! If my math is right, that’s 26 minutes and 6 seconds faster than my 6 hours, 44 second time at the 2013 Nike Women’s Marathon. So, even though I didn’t break 5:30, I was still very happy with that time. Got some nice hardware, too.
Post-Race:
An even crueler joke than Mount Roosevelt was the finish line area. You basically have to walk from one end of Grant Park to the other. That’s about a mile. Then you have to walk about 3/4 of a mile to the hotel. And climb some stairs. But it was worth it!
After soaking in cold water and then taking a lukewarm shower, I headed downstairs to thank and say goodbye to Meghan. She bought her own ticket, flew to Chicago, ran probably close to a marathon herself, and supported us all, then flew home in less than 24 hours. THAT is dedication!
I ate and drank and ate some more and swapped stories with teammates and watched the Giants take a lead in a playoff game (which they ultimately lost, but I didn’t stay awake long enough to see the end), then went to bed. I slept a good eight hours and still got up at 6:30 local time.
Day Four (Monday, October 13th):
I woke up, turned on the TV, saw that the Cardinals had come back to even the series at 1-1, and started to send out feelers to see who was up for breakfast. Since I was leaving around noon, I was on a short fuse. Everyone had their own agendas, which is fine. Sandi’s schedule was the most flexible, so she agreed to have breakfast with me and we limped around town looking for a place to eat. The first one I picked out was swamped, but I found another one nearby that was really nice and had no wait. Thank God for smartphones!
After breakfast, it was time to check out and head to the airport. Thus began a marathon of a different sort.
I asked one of the hotel taxi captains how long it would take to get to the airport by cab. He said 40 minutes if the weather is good, but over an hour if it rains. It was supposed to rain, so I steeled myself for a long, painful walk to the L and up its stairs, and then from the L terminal to the airport concourses. Fortunately, some geniuses invented naproxen sodium (aka, Aleve®). I took some before bed and it worked like magic!
When I arrived at the airport, everything seemed to go smoothly, despite two gate changes. When I got to the final gate, I got a page from the gate agent. I’ve never heard my name called in an airport before, so I knew something was wrong.
Apparently, my connection from Las Vegas to San Jose was canceled, but they were able to put me and everyone else making that connecting flight on a flight leaving around the same time, but going to Burbank first, then to San Jose. The agent said it would only add about an hour, so what the heck? But before I left, I saw that THAT flight had been delayed by 90 minutes. Great.
After a nice flight from Chicago, I was feeling a lot better. I took another Aleve before leaving the hotel and it worked great. I had barely any discomfort after the flight. Good thing, too, because I was about to go from running a marathon to sprinting about a half a mile!
My plane landed and docked at the end of the B concourse. I checked the info board and the connecting flight was delayed AGAIN and wasn’t supposed to leave until 9:30!
So I hustled over to the gate where my next flight was supposed to be at 9:30pm — at the end of the C concourse! — and tried to get on another flight. Turns out the only two flights left would’ve put me in San Jose at 9:30 at the earliest. And they had no fewer than six people on the waiting list.
But the gate agent there was super helpful. She asked if San Francisco was close enough. I thought it was, so I took a chance and got on that standby list. She said it wasn’t full yet, and no one else seemed to be checking in.
There was only one catch: it was the plane I had just left back in the B concourse and it was leaving in 19 minutes. She asked me if that was okay and I said, “hey, I just ran a marathon yesterday. I can make it.”
So I walked as fast as I could without bowling people over and just barely made the plane. If all went well, I should get home about 90 minutes after I was originally scheduled. And I’d only be out the cost of a BART, Caltrain, and taxi ride.
I got to SFO just fine. I hopped on a BART train headed to San Bruno, then transferred to a southbound train to get to the Millbrae terminal. Why? Because apparently, the BART Yellow Line doesn’t go all the way south to Millbrae until after 8pm. WTF? Also, because the directions weren’t clear, I overpaid for my BART ticket, too. (insert heavy sigh) Fortunately, the transfer from BART to Caltrain was easy and I happened to catch a semi-express train that skipped a few stops north of Redwood City.
I got off at the Santa Clara Caltrain station and thought about taking a cab to the SJC Economy Parking Lot, but decided to try Uber. It turned out to be a pretty good experience. My über driver had only been driving for the company for a week, but he was very polite and got me where I needed to go quickly — without driving like a maniac. The public transportation costs were offset by the fact that the Uber ride was free. I’d forgotten that I had a $20 promotional credit from the SF Rock and Roll Half Marathon earlier this year.
So, despite a lot of walking (had a long walk from outside the economy parking lot to where I parked my car, too), and some transportation craziness, it was a great trip and I’m none the worse for wear!
EDIT: Okay, that took a long time to write and I was really tired. That’s my excuse for forgetting to thank my teammates, fellow TNT volunteer staff, Lorri (our team manager), our honorees and our coaches for all they contributed to this amazing season.