Chicago 2014 Race Report

I could start this post by noting how long it's been since I last blogged (six months, in case you're counting), by updating you on my busy non-running life (new responsibilities at work, a wedding just over a month away), or I could just dive right into my Chicago race report as though I've been blogging regularly and nothing has changed. Hmm...which option to choose?

Summer Training

In April I ran my third sub-3 marathon in Boston, coming across the finish in 2:58:56, slower than my 2013 Chicago time, but a big Patriots Day PR. I was thrilled but knew I wanted to run faster in the fall. I spent the summer training harder than ever before--I had seven weeks at 70 miles or more--yet never felt overwhelmed. I had lots of great individual workouts and even PR'd in the 10k.* Nevertheless, I had a very conservative goal going into Chicago--2:57:59, a 14 second PR.

As always, I did a three week taper which means that my last hard long run was my team's Metric Marathon, which went really well. Still, there's roughly a 10 mile difference between 26.2k and 42.2k and as anyone who's run a marathon can tell you, a lot can happen in the last 10 miles.

Race Week

One of the cool Niketown displays.

The Saturday before the race, my fiancée and I invited all of our teammates running Chicago over to our place for a carb-heavy dinner and a chance to talk race strategy. It was good to do something on the New York end because it was much harder to coordinate something pre-race in Chicago--I would definitely recommend doing this next year. 

My fiancée and  I  flew out on Friday night. Our original flight was super late thanks to residual delays from the air traffic control fire a week and a half before, but I was able to work my persuasive magic with Delta to get us on an earlier flight meaning we still got in at a reasonable hour and were in bed by 9:30. I find rest two nights out is key since it's often hard to sleep the night before a big race.

The next morning we got up around 7 a.m. for a shake-out run along the Lakefront Trail followed by our now-traditional pancake breakfast at Wildberry. Note: If you go, make sure to order the cinnamon roll pancakes! After a quick shower, we my fiancée's parents for a trip to the expo. Those of you who read my report from last year may remember that her parents had to miss the trip because her dad had to be taken to the ER. Thankfully he's fine and we had no such scares this year.

The Chicago expo is definitely better than New York's, but we didn't stick around too long since neither of us wanted to tire out our legs. Still, I managed to eat about half my weight in free samples. I also picked up a 3-hour pace-band tattoo just in case. The highlight worst part of the expo was paying $4.50 for a small Powerade. Pro tip: If you go, BYOB!

Lunch for me was plain pizza and more Gatorade (I also snacked on bagels throughout the morning--the day before a marathon, I'm pretty much always eating between the time I wake up and dinner). After that, we went back to our Airbnb, got stuff ready for the morning and then took a nap. 

We regrouped with the future in-laws at 5 p.m. for a pasta dinner at Topo Gigio where I paired my fresh noodles with the finest non-vintage red (Gatorade, of course). Thanks to our early dinner time (I try never to eat later than 5 p.m. the night before a marathon to give the food plenty of time to digest) we were able to get to bed by 8 p.m. or so. I actually slept pretty well (thanks klonopin!), though all the Gatorade/Powerade/Nuun I drank during the day ensured a couple bathroom visits. 

Race Day

The alarm went off at 4:45 and I sprung into action, toasting a bagel for each of us and slathering them with peanut butter. We turned on the news while we got ready for any last minute weather updates. Thankfully, our Airbnb was right next to Millennium Park so we were able to delay leaving until 6:15 a.m. 


My fiancée and I found Steve and Francesca, two of our teammates near the bag check and I picked up a Gatorade Prime to take a few minutes before the start. (I like taking Prime at the start instead of a gel because it tastes a lot better and doesn't need to be chased with water). With about twenty minutes to go we split up and Steve and I went to Corral A. Since we were in the same corral and he was aiming for a sub-3, we decided to start out together.  

The Race: The First Half

Compared to the cannon that starts the New York City Marathon, Chicago's starting gun is pretty anemic, but the result is the same. I always try to run a slow first mile since the crowds and the excitement make it all too easy to go out too fast. Steve and I managed to rein it in and did the first mile in just over 7 minutes. We picked it up on the next two miles which carry you through the Loop and large crowds and I clocked the first 5k in 21:!4, a 6:50 pace. A 3-hour pace is 6:52 so we were right where Steve needed to be, though the 3 hour pacer was slightly ahead of us on the course. 

Somewhere in these early miles I ditched my arm-warmers, though I held onto my gloves for a little longer. It wasn't hot but I could feel myself sweating so I figured I'd better nip it in the bud. I was running with a disposable bottle filled with Gatorade (I always carry a bottle for the first few miles of a marathon since the early water stops are always the most congested), and it was great having Steve there since he was able to hold the bottle while I ditched the arm warmers. 

Although I had us slightly ahead of pace, the damn 3 hour pacer didn't seem to be getting any closer. Our miles ticked by pretty consistently and we hit the 10k in 42:21, meaning we'd run our second 5k at a 6:48 pace. About a mile after the 10k the course hits its northernmost point and turns south again, offering the briefest glimpse of Wrigley Field. That turn is a really good mental point, helped by the fact that the next several miles through Boystown (Chicago's LGBT neighborhood) have some of the best cheering. Once of the highlights was the perfectly in-sync drill team, complete with twirling bayonets.  

We hit the 15k in 1:03:24, improving to a 6:47 pace, and somewhere around this point we finally passed the 3-hour pace group. I was feeling really good at his point as the course took us through Old Town where there's an awesome Elvis impersonate who's there every year (though he was singing Sinatra when we went by). Mer's parents were waiting around Mile 11 (they had also been at Mile 4) and they gave a big cheer which was a nice boost.

Shortly after mile 12, the race crosses the Chicago River for the fourth time and heads back into the Loop and the crowd support begins to build. I crossed the 20k in 1:24:37, a slight and unexplainable decrease to a 6:50 pace. My legs no longer felt fresh, but I was pretty sure I could keep up the pace, at least for the time being. Of course, I got a little carried away by the crowds approaching the half and ran the next stretch fast, with a 6:27 mile thrown in.

Steve and I crossed the half in 1:29:02 and I thought we were in great shape. I told him that no matter what, we were both going to re-qualify for Boston (we needed a 3:05, which would have meant a 6 minute positive split for either of us to miss the mark and I wasn't going to let that happen). I also did the math and realized that I would need a negative split to PR, but I tried not to think too hard about that yet.


The Race: The Second Half

The second half of Chicago is definitely not as good as the first; it's less scenic and there are far more dead zones. The first mile or so is very lively thanks to the presence of the "Charity Block Party," but by the time you get to the first turnaround by the United Center the crowd support is minimal and the shade is non-existent. In my mind, this is where the race really begins, since you can no longer rely on others to carry you through. Case in point: Steve and I crossed the 25k at pretty much the same time, 1:45:18 for me, but then I gradually began to pull ahead. 


The next portion of the course had a few highlights. There was an official cheer zone with loud music and a video screen around mile 16.5 as you turn south on Halstead. I also knew fellow Whippet, and Team Fox superstar, Jennie Kelly was waiting around Mile 17 and it was great to get a shout-out from her. The course then begins its last real westward jog before turning south again for one of its most boring stretches. I passed the 30k in 2:06:17, now averaging a 6:45 pace.

Shortly after Mile 19, the course turns east and takes you through Pilsen, a largely Latino neighborhood that always has great music and cheering. It didn't disappoint this year and it gave me a mental boost as I thought about my strategy for the remainder of the race. I figured I would reevaluate at Mile 22 or so, but for the time being, I would just try to hold the pace.

The next stretch took us through Chinatown and as I passed the 30k in 2:26:47, still a 6:41 pace, I was feeling pretty good about my prospects. After you exit Chinatown comes probably the worst part of the course, a mile along the Dan Ryan Expressway (imagine running along the Cross Bronx) with no shade and minimal crowd support. If you can make it through this section, you're going to finish, no matter what (at least, that's what I kept telling myself--I hadn't slowed down, but maintaining speed was taking a lot more effort).

Just before hitting U.S. Cellular Field (home of the White Sox), the course turns east and takes you through the Illinois Institute of Technology campus, where there's a marching band and decent crowds. The band was taking a break when I ran by, but it was still a welcome change of scenery. As I crossed Mile 23, I let myself do some easy math and realized I could slow to 7:30 pace and probably still PR which gave me a confidence boost. Somewhere around this point I also heard someone cheering for me. It was only after I passed the cheerer that I realized it was James, Francesa's boyfriend. That was another needed lift this late in the race.

Post-race with teammates Francesca and Meredith

After one last southerly jog, the course finally turns on Michigan Ave for most of the final 5k. I was now counting down streets--they're numbered and get smaller as you head north--and miles. I crossed Mile 24 with a 6:37 pace and somehow picked it up for a 6:32 Mile 25 (I passed the 40k checkpoint in 2:47:24, averaging 6:39 over the last 5k). With just over a mile to go and a PR within my grasp, I was determined to hang in there. I felt like I was slogging as I made the second to last turn onto Roosevelt Road (the infamous "Mt. Roosevelt," essentially an on-ramp that would hardly be considered in a race that's not as flat as Chicago), passing the 400m to go and Mile 26 signs. Then it was one final turn into Grant Park along Columbus Drive. I gave it what little I had left, watching the official clock tick towards 2:57, and crossed with my arms held high.

Somehow I had done it, I had PR'd with a net time of 2:56:19, an average pace of 6:33 over the final 2.2k, and a negative split of 1:45. I felt like a million bucks, even if my legs were completely shot.

As I waited for my fiancée to finish, I ran into other teammates, including Steve (who didn't get his sub-3, but still PR'd) and Francesca (who completely killed it with her 3:04). Later that evening we all met up with several other teammates who had run or cheered, capping off a great weekend with some great pizza.

Hopefully we can continue this tradition of PRs in Chicago next year!  


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*Want proof that I really don't focus on shorter distances? Although I ran the10k in mid-September, I only realized it was a PR two days after finishing Chicago.

A Great Day in the Second City: My 2013 Chicago Marathon Race Report

Last fall, in my ninth marathon, I finally broke the elusive 3 hour mark. It was one of the happiest moments of my life, finally meeting a goal I had set for myself three years earlier. After the glow wore off, though, I found myself adrift, directionless. I decided to make sub-3 my goal for Boston in the spring just to see if I could do it again but then a hip injury took any chance of that away. After a struggling through the finish in April, all I wanted was some time off from training.

 

Spring turned into summer and still I resisted setting a schedule: it wasn't until the second week of August that I completely committed to a plan for Chicago. Although I did every workout on my calendar, I didn't feel the same level of motivation I had in previous training cycles and was unsure what my goal for October really was. I worried that the running bug had left me. Fast forward to this past weekend and even on race morning I was full of self-doubt. In spite of a full calendar of summer races, I hadn't PR'd at a single distance in 2013 and going into Chicago I wondered if my days of improvement were over.
 

A great sign at Niketown

Though I was unsure of my own prospects, there was plenty to look forward to in the Windy City. My girlfriend was also running, her fifth time doing Chicago and her tenth marathon, and hoping to BQ. Her parents were supposed to fly out to cheer and spend the weekend with us, but unfortunately on Thursday her dad had to be rushed to the hospital with what turned out to be a pulmonary embolism. It gave everyone quite a scare and though he was released over the weekend, her parents were obviously unable to join us.  This meant that as we prepared to leave our hotel room at 6 a.m. on race day, we knew that the only friends and relative who would be watching would be doing so via electronic updates.

 

Even with the enhanced security, navigating the starting area was relatively easy and by 7 a.m. we had check our bags and it was time to part ways and head to our respective corrals. I was in Corral A along with my friend Helen and her boyfriend Alex, both also from New York. They were running with a sub-3 goal which sounded good to me so we agreed to meet in the corral by the 3 hour pace group. Unfortunately, it was far more crowded than I had expected and as the clock ticked closer to the 7:30 a.m. start, I couldn’t find them. Finally, just when I’d given up hope, I spotted Helen and managed to make my way over to her and Alex before the gun went off.

 

No NYCM for Me (This Year)

First things first, I wasn't chosen in the  New York City Marathon lottery. That means that 2012 will be the first time since 2009 that I haven't done this race. Am I bummed? Yes and no.

Yes because this is an amazing event. There's really nothing like running over the Verrazano Bridge with 45,000 people while Sinatra's "New York, New York" is blaring at 100 decibels, or reading the creative signs along 4th Avenue, or making the turn off of the Queensboro into the 1st Avenue wall of sound.

No because, like last year, I'm signed up to run Chicago. While running two marathons a month apart is doable, the recovery period after the second one sucks. Last year it meant that my whole fall was either taken up by marathon training or by marathon recover (look at October which was a combination of both!).

When I first moved to New York I went to watch the race in Central Park and had an amazing time. This year I have tons of friends who will be running it so I'll have even more reason to cheer. As for next year, I'm working on my 9+1 so I plan to be back. 

You Snooze, You Lose (on Race Registration)

Earlier this winter I was contemplating running the Broad Street 10 Miler in Philadelphia. I've always wanted to do a race in the City of Brotherly Love but the Philly Marathon comes too soon after the other fall races and I refuse to do the Distance Classic now that it's been taken over by the evil Competitor Group.* I knew the Broad Street Run was popular but I didn't know just how popular until February 15 when it sold out in 5 hours!

As time goes on, it seems like all large races are hitting their caps earlier and earlier. Boston is probably the prime example: the 2009 race sold out on January 26; the 2010 race sold out on November 13; and the 2011 race sold out in 8 hours and 3 minutes! As a result, BAA (the group that puts on the race) completely reconfigured registration. Similarly, while the 2011 Chicago Marathon sold out in 31 days, the 2012 edition filled up in just 6 days.

Quite a few well-known races have now switched to lottery systems to handle the increased demand. The New York City Marathon is probably the most famous example, but plenty of other big races like DC's Cherry Blossom 10 Miler, New Hampshire's Mt Washington Road Race, Atlanta's Peach Tree Road Race, and the Houston Marathon use similar systems.

When you get shut out of these races because they've filled up to fast or you don't get picked in the lottery, just use it as an excuse to find a smaller local race. I know I've talked about NYCRuns before. With their comprehensive local race calendar, you can usually find a comparable alternative race. You can also search Active.com, or check with your local running store. The other bonus about smaller races is that they are usually less expensive.

In the end, it's probably good for me that Broad Street sold out so quickly. It's only three weeks after Boston and I know I won't have recovered fully. I'll just post-pone my return to racing and save a few bucks on transportation costs too.

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*Okay, calling them evil may be an exaggeration, but just like I won't shop at Walmart, I won't run a Competitor race.

Race Report: 2011 Chicago Marathon

On my way home from the Chicago Marathon I read race recaps in the Chicago Sun-Times. A woman who lost her iPod at mile 6 was quoted as saying, “I was inside my own head the rest of the way—it wasn’t a nice place to be.” Without judging this woman, I think she misunderstands the marathon. In a crowded corral one of the principal pre-race challenges is keeping other people out of your head—something you have to do it if you want to run your race. On Sunday morning, just before the gun went off, I was trying to do this in and really struggling. I don’t think I had really found that center when the race began.

Many people say if you don’t feel like you’re going too slow in the first miles of the marathon, you’re going too fast. Well, the first several miles of Chicago I felt like I was running way too fast. Nothing was clicking—my mind and body weren’t in sync (see above). Mile 1 went by in 7:13, a slow start, but while my brain was saying, it’s alright, you’ll make up that lost time, my body was saying, you need to slow down because I don’t want to do this.
 

As we circled south into the loop I got in a 7:00 mile 2 but my stride didn’t feel any more natural. I was already feeling hot, though more clammy than sweaty, and we were still in the shade of the city’s skyscrapers. I’ll give myself until the 10k, I said, but if things still don’t feel right, I’m going to back off. Mile 3, the first in our long march northward, went by in 6:46. I could see the 3:00 pace group ahead but didn’t feel up to catching them. Mile 4, also a straight line up LaSalle, passed much the same in 6:45.

In mile 5 we finally made the turn into Lincoln Park, one of the few geographic features of the course I knew I would recognize. For me this was one of the toughest parts of the race. When I had visualized myself running Chicago in the weeks before, I felt great in Lincoln Park but in reality I felt sluggish. Even so, miles 5 and 6 were both close to 3 hour pace. I hit the 10k mark and asked myself if I wanted to back off. I decided I would keep going for it and reassess later on.

The course went further north than I anticipated, with mile 7 passing me by well before the turn around. As soon as we curved back south along Broadway the course opened up in my mind—I could picture its component parts. I told myself, I just need to make it until we turn west. There were lots of people out on the course cheering us on and blasting music making these miles some of the most fun, but also the least individually memorable.

By now I was looking at my watch every mile and thinking, if I slowed to 7:03, could I still PR? How far off of a 3:00 pace am I? Shortly after mile 12 we crossed back over the Chicago River. Now I was thinking about mile 13, where the family of the friend I'd had pasta with the night before was watching. I’ve got to look strong for them, I told myself. I didn’t see her family but I passed mile 13 with the course clock reading just over 1:30.

As the half clock came into view a lot of the doubt I’d been feeling slipped away. Just after 13.1 I passed St. Patrick’s, a Catholic church with pipers playing out front and crossed myself for good measure—I never did make it to mass that day. I no longer had any recollection of what the course was going to do, but about this point I had a revelation. The reason I felt so weird, so uncomfortable and disconnected, was that I was actually racing. My mind and body were working together, just not in a way I had experienced before.

With the half behind me I broke the remainder down into increments and set a goal for each one. If I can get to mile x at y pace, I thought, then I deal with what comes next. With this attitude, the miles flew by. I had my mind focused on getting to mile 20. I need to get to mile 20 by 2:20, I decided, because no matter what happens, I can do that last 10k in under 45 minutes—at some point the plan had become PR, not sub-3. Sure enough, I got to mile 20 in 2:17:59.

The sun was beating down and the crowds were sparse but neither of those things mattered. As mile 21 went by bringing me into Chinatown, I thought, you’ve only got 5 miles to go and almost 40 minutes to do them in! I managed to keep a pretty even pace, not sacrificing speed the way I had in New York the previous fall. Mile 22 went by in 7:01 and mile 23 in 7:04.

Mile 24 was tough; I did it in 7:10. At some point a spectator yelled, “You’re almost there!” I turned to a woman running next to me and said, “I hate it when they say that.” “Me too,” she managed back. I knew I was close, but in the final miles with the speed slowly draining from your body, distance is an abstract, an almost meaningless concept.

I set mile 25 as my next goal, then the “One Mile to Go” sign as the one after that. 1600 meters from the finish I heard a voice saying, “Come on, let’s do this.” It was the woman I had made the comment to a little while back. We picked it up. It really hurt, but I kept saying things like, “We’ve got this,” and knowing I had someone running beside me pushed me.

We finally turned right onto “Mount Roosevelt,” a small on-ramp that would not so much as trigger an extra heartbeat at the start of an easy run. People had told me it would be a tough climb, but thanks to my new-found running companion, I barely noticed the incline. We passed the “400m to go” sign and rounded the corner. With the finish line in sight, I gave it everything I had and crossed it in 3:01:44, a nearly 3 minute PR.

Moments later my new friend crossed the finish line and I thanked her for pushing me. She said, “I could see you had it in you.” For all the mental games I had played with myself during the race, here was someone I had never met who was able to see something that I couldn’t and who got me to give that extra 10%. I owe at least 30 seconds of my PR to her.

I've gone on for far too long here, so I’ll wrap things up by thanking all of you who, like that mystery woman, have been able to see things in me that I haven’t seen in myself and have helped me to succeed in ways that I never could have without your support. Thank you, and it has been a pleasure running “with” you.