Chicago Blues

Temperature at the start: 61F. Temperature when I finished: 82F. Elapsed time from start line to finish: 6:34:17.

Arrrggghhh!!!!

Are all marathoners as optimistic as I am? Every time race day approaches, I think, "This time, I'm going to PR." Then the marathon kicks my butt. But I'm not here to whine about the race. Chicago has a great course--you run through some great neighborhoods and the fall colors are gorgeous. And where else can you run among the skyscrapers of Louis Sullivan?

I had a different approach to my training this time. I was working with Coach Brian, and he had me training by heart rate rather than speed. My long runs were supposed to be in the 115 - 135 range and never exceeded four hours, although my final included a one hour fast walk after the 4 hour run. To keep my HR that low, I had to run slow, although I did speed sessions and drills on the track.

That all made me stronger, and I actually ran (or my version of running) the entire way, only walking through the water stations. So that was progress for me. And I made it all the way through without any sore knees or other injuries.

Before the race turned brutal, it was actually fun. My friend, Bunny, came to Chicago in pursuit of a BQ, and we hung out together before the race. The start and finish lines were in Grant Park and, ever the optimist, I lined up with the 5:30 group. Bunny was up ahead with the 4:00 group, her Boston qualifying time. I chatted with a couple of guys from England, who had seeded numbers, meaning they could start before the unwashed masses, but decided to move back because of their injuries.

Although the race started at 7:30, I knew it would be a while before I would start, so I sat on the curb to keep my legs rested. And then we started walking toward the start. Music blared from the loudspeakers: Sweet Home Chicago, Let's Get It Started, Start Me Up. It was fun and then we were off!

I don't know Chicago neighborhoods, so much of this is kind of a blur. We went through downtown, turned and headed down State Street. There's a great marquee there, for the Chicago theatre, and I wanted SD to take my picture with the marquee in the background. That was around mile 2 or 3. I made sure there was a lot of space around me so he wouldn't miss me, but he wasn't there. The Marathon Photo guy was there, but I think my head was turned. Oh, well. I'd figured my husband would be at the mile 12 cheer zone.

At first the crowd was sparse, but it got better in some of the neighborhoods. I high-fived a few spectators, mostly kids. I had written my name on the race bib, so alot of people were calling out, "Go Dori." At one spot there was a group of young guys and, pumping their arms they yelled out, "Dor REE, Dor REE, Dor REE." That was fun. :-)

In one of the neighborhoods, there were four guys on a stage, wearing white pants and white t-shirts that read "ROTC." There had white rifles and were doing rifle drills in unison. At first I thought they were like Chippendale dancers, but then I figured out that I was in the Chicago equivalent of the Castro. They were really good, though.

As I approached a bridge around mile 12, I saw SD siting on the rail. I waved to him and he took my picture, then I blew him a kiss as I went by. It wasn't until I passed him that I thought to worry about how he was going to get down. But of course, he was fine.

I talked to other racers along the way. There was a church group that trained runners for the race and I talked to one of the guys. I think his name was Calvin. It was his 7th marathon, too. That was around Lincoln Park, which was beautiful with the fall foliage.

The temperature got hotter and hotter, and I hydrated often. I was carrying sports drink with me, because I don't like the high-carb drinks they pass out at races. So I was replacing electrolytes and running on the shady side of the street whenever possible. I tried to run tangents, but the Garmin still read more mileage than the mile markers.

When the 5:45 pace group passed, I knew my dreams of a PR were shot. So I just focused on finishing. But when the "end car" came alongside, I kicked it into high gear. I wasn't about to be passed by the sweep bus! I managed to get ahead, then settled back into a plod.

It was reminiscent of Grandma's Marathon, my second marathon, which was stifling hot. Along the way, I'd see sponges on the ground, which had obviously been passed out to the faster runners. I had a small cloth with me, though, and I'd wet it at the water stops and wipe myself down with the cool water. Somewhere I got a cup of ice and put some under my cap and in my sports bra, which helped. I still felt light headed and slightly nauseous, though.

The only other neighborhood I remember was the Spanish neighborhood--I think it was called Pilsen. There was a lot of Latin music playing and one woman had a sign that read, "Si, se puede!" Yes, I can; thanks for the reminder.

As I neared mile 25, the end car tried to pass me again. Dammit! I ran faster, even on the uphill, to make sure I finished within the official 6:30 time. I wasn't going through all that misery to not have it count! I was still 4 minutes off, but I guess they took pity on us, because they included me, and people behind me, in the official results. As I approached the finish line, I was too tired to even look for SD. I just crossed and was happy to be done. He saw me, though, and got my picture.

I didn't want to walk any further than I had to, so I skipped the post-race party. I found my husband and we walked to the hotel. Everything ached, and I showered and tried to nap. I had forgotten about the cold tape I got at the expo--that would have felt really good.

The race broke more than a few hearts. Bunny tripped and fell early in the race and got very banged up. She was going to drop out, but found a woman who was also struggling and they walked/ran together, holding hands across the finish line, with a time around 5:40. AmyBee's hubby ran his first marathon that day, and had his own issues to deal with. I spoke to some racers at the restaurant at dinner that night and they were all bummed about their finish times.

So, a few days have passed. The soreness is gone and I'm thinking about where to run my next marathon. I've completed seven marathons, in six states--maybe I should try for a 50 states rank. I'm ready to go for a run again and work with my coach to get fitter and stronger. SD took a lot of pictures, and I'll post them when I get home.