by David H.

Chicago Marathon 2025! I’ll pat myself on the back for two things. From my last participation, in 2017, I knew to have warm-ups for the long, cool wait in the start corral. Lots of people had them. The clothes get tossed to volunteers before you stroll toward the start line and it all gets donated-or re-donated to charity. 50,000+ people crossed that start line over most of 90 minutes. It’s incredible to think, but the winner was more than halfway to the finish line when I crossed the start line.

The second thing I did right was to start slow and pace myself. For several of my marathons and other long distances, I have gotten caught up in the adrenaline and MARVELED at how much stronger and faster I’d become during the taper days. Ha! I usually suffer later and find myself slowing way down at the end when I fall for that trap. Not always, but usually.
I had fun with the race for most of it. I was much slower than I should have been. I say should, because I need to lose weight. Between moving from Illinois to Iowa and our trip to Alaska, serious training didn’t start as soon as it should have, but I don’t regret those things.

I meant to enjoy the day and I did. I wanted to go the distance. The variety of neighborhoods and the regular appearance of a new crowd made it far different from an ordinary run. And then you look around you and marvel at how famous some of the sights are and how familiar some sights are from other trips into the city or similar events. I did feel lucky.

I was also quite fortunate to arrive at race day without illness or injury. And I finished that way. I could see other people suffering on course-limping or whatever-and I have since heard of some falls and other race-ending injuries.

After I saw my people as planned at 13.6 miles, I tried to focus on every other mile marker. I just needed to worry about the next two miles. That kept me running until about mile 22. Shortly after that I could see the mile 24 marker on the other side of a narrow strip and knew I had some ways to go until the turnaround. That, and the sight of an aid station, and the fact that my soles were hurting, and the fact that my running was barely any faster than other people’s walking-well, it just deflated me. I was mostly walking after that-and not at the pace of other walkers. I really wanted to stop and rest for a bit, but I knew the streets would soon be re-opened to traffic.

Hearing spectators call my name was a thrill early in the day and still felt like fuel going into the afternoon. I usually just smiled in response. I’ll tell you though, those spectators on the south end of the course know their assignment. They know they are witnesses to people battling the devil. And when they say your name, it’s somewhere between a scolding and a demand to get yer hiney movin’ up the street.

People have told me I’m an inspiration. I agree. I just inspired myself to do better. Or at least do another Ironman! What I had in me Sunday pales in comparison to what got me across the finish line 4 years ago in Madison. So, that’s the goal for next year, in Cambridge, Maryland.