Chicago Marathon 2010

It was 4:30am when my alarm went off. The train was departing at 5:13am, we could not miss it. Last year the traffic was unbelievable. My adult son and his fiancé were my companions. The platform crowd numbered like weekday rush hour. Runners and their support teams looked like they were headed to Oz. When I saw someone wearing my running shoes it made me a little sad. I have not followed astrology since I was a teen rushing to read Omar in the paper but since I was told running the marathon was not possible this year I feel like dueling Gemini twins. At times I accept it as a positive factor which will make me a stronger contender in 2011 and in the next moment I’m playing the why-me tape in my head. Runners are happy upbeat people therefore I quickly turn it around.

I truly enjoy the train into the city. I always take my square Jansport canvas backpack that I bought for my daughter 10 years ago. The label said that textbooks would fit better, my daughter never bought that tag line nor did any of my kids after her. I love it and carry it on all train rides and school buses when I chaperone field trips. Inside I had bottle of water, bananas, apples, Kindle, DVD camera, 2 iPods (long story), book club selection and writing material, with the exception of my loved ones everything I cherish is in that bag. It even doubles as a pillow if I were able to sleep on a packed train oozing with excitement.

My son sat two rows ahead of us next to a woman who was running. We were barely out of our zip code before I noticed his face book status, “on the train for the Chicago Marathon but not running, maybe next year”. I knew it, I have been telling him since his first 5k race 7 months ago that he is destined to run a marathon.

We found a great spot at the start line. When the sun rose over Lake Michigan lighting the streets for 45,000 athletes, this was the equivalent of front row seats at the World Series, Super Bowl and NBA Finals all rolled up into one event. How could this be free of charge?

Just when I was questioning my arrogance for thinking I am worthy to be among these dedicated individuals the disabled participants were wheeling pass doing warm-up laps. By the end of our adventure we would see a blind runner, others with one or two artificial legs or obese people content with walking, I will shut up and run.

Thirty-five minutes after the start gun the sea of participants thinned to zero. We made it to the 13.1 mile marker ninety minutes later. There we saw the elite runners set to finish under three hours. Everyone at this level is not just trying to finish, they are racing. No beer bellies, no silly costumes just serious competitors, some had not broken a sweat, were they robots? We even saw a pregnant runner set to finish at 3.5 hours.

I did have one goal before heading home, I had earned a bag of Chicago Mix popcorn from the one and only genuine downtown popcorn place. The 10:40am would arrive in Lisle by 11:30am giving us more than enough time to see the Bears kick-off. We passed one location on our way to the start line and spotted a worker preparing for a busy day. It was over 2 hours later, I was confident that the line of popcorn freaks would be at least be pouring out the tiny store front. We rounded the corner and there was not one person standing outside. The door was locked. I cuffed my hands over my eyes to peer inside, I spotted an employee stirring the caramel corn, I tapped on the glass and mouthed the question, “What time do you open?”. Her response shook me to the core, she held up 2 fingers, 11am. I was like Dorothy who realized that all that work was for nothing, there was no wizard. Sure, I had just witnessed the perfect day at the perfect event but I needed cheese and caramel popcorn to make it complete. What owner operator would not understand that on the 33rd annual Chicago Marathon thousands of spectators will want some of that famous delightful sweetness. Let’s pretend that they forgot, wouldn’t the staff call and tell the manager that 10,000 potential customers walked by on a Sunday? I thought this was the city that works, well not if want yellow finger tips from reaching in that wax bag of freshness. As we walked to the train I honestly saw mirages that appeared to be an open popcorn location, it was very possible they are peppered throughout the downtown area but it always turned out to be a bagel or pastries shop that only looked my favorite popcorn haven. My last result was the sad substitute spot in the train station. It is fresh, they sell the mix but it is not the same so I got just a small bag. Next year after I crawl over the finish line, well after 11am, I want my four sons to carry me to my lake view celebration suite filled with all the things I will have to limit during training: 1. Harold’s Chicken wings with fries soaked in mild sauce 2. Portillo’s chocolate cake alamode with Hagen Daz Vanilla 3. Ice cold Diet Pepsi (I can cut calories) 4. Party sized bowl of my favorite popcorn. Is that to much to ask?