Cubs in Five

We went to Chicago for Bill to run a marathon. Most people who run marathons just want to finish. Bill had much bigger aspirations than that. He wanted to qualify for the Boston Marathon, which means that he needed a very specific time - 3:30. Lots of people have the goal to qualify for the Boston Marathon, but my husband trained for it. He has worked for years to get his pace faster and faster. This last spring he ran the Lincoln Marathon and finished in 3:31. That was pretty devastating. But rather than give up, he rested up, and then started planning his fall marathon. He did everything you are supposed to do - speed workouts, fast long runs, slow long runs, rest, weights. He had his VO2 tested and was assured that a 3:25 time was reasonable.

We got plane tickets, he cut back to a 1/4 cup of coffee in the morning, and I felt myself getting swept up in this for him. He should have this. He did everything that he should do in order to get what he wants. And I am a firm believer that hard work and dedication pay off - or should pay off. This was reasonable and he deserved it.

We started watching the weather two weeks ago and they predicted rain. The forecast changed as the date got closer and it became clear that it was going to be hot and not a dry hot, as they say, but a humid hot. "You've run in 100 degrees. You've run a marathon in July around a lake with no Gatorade. You're in the best shape of your life." I said every positive thing I could think of and meant them all. Bill would smile wryly.

We flew in Saturday morning, had a great breakfast at a diner with Bill's brother, and then went downtown to the running expo. We picked up his packet, got loads of free stuff, met Elvis, and more importantly, met Hal Higdon (!!!!!!!), and Bill drank Gatorade and ate salty things all day. We went to Joe's apartment (I love having a brother in law named Joe) and Joe made meatballs and spaghetti and we watched the Cubs lose. Joe and Bill are both Cubs fans and they grimly accept their position in the world of baseball fans. We went to bed early. We slept well despite the trains and the upstairs neighbors (it really was the penultimate Chicago experience for me - the El tracks were in the backyard - technically it was about a block away - but that's close). In the morning Bill and I went for a very short jog in the neighborhood to warm him up and I was coated in sweat at the end. The air felt heavy and warm. It was 5am. The train came on time and we were at an early stop so it wasn't too crowded. We found his corral (he was a seeded runner, so he got to start after the Elite athletes, the Top 100 runners, the A runners, the B runners, and then his group - it sounds like a lot of people ahead of him, but it was way better than being in the general corral) and then I left him. I felt myself shaking and nearly crying. I felt sympathy anxiety, I guess.

Joe and his girlfriend are very familiar with the trains and the neighborhoods and we used the El to get everywhere - to the race and then to various points along the race. We headed to Boys Town first, which is at about Mile 8. We got there ahead of all the runners and enjoyed the atmosphere - drag queens dancing to Disco (the picture is of them rehearsing before the runners came), synchronized rifle twirlers, men in cheerleading skirts and just general fun. The wheelchair racers came first and they were incredible - super fast and intense. I saw my first female wheelchair racer. Then I saw the helicopters overhead. And then I saw the Kenyans. They were amazing - so fast. The runners came in order at that point still. Elite, A, B, C...we saw Bill on the far side of the street although he did not see us. He looked good. I registered to get text messages from the race organizers when he crossed checkpoints and the text message updates assured us that he was on pace. We got back on the train and headed to Chinatown. We got another text update on the train and saw again that he was on pace. We stood in Chinatown at Mile 21 watching for him and when his expected time came and went, I began to get anxious. We saw the 3:30 pace guy, and then quite a few runners after him, we saw Bill. His face was exhausted. His body looked good though - strong and steady. He smiled when he saw us and later told me that it gave him a boost to see us cheering for him. (The route is packed with people the whole 26 miles. Bill said there was no point where there were no spectators. But it is nice to have someone just for you.)

We got back on the train and headed for the finish. Ambulances were all over. It was 90 degrees and finishers were walking around with ice on their heads. We heard that a runner actually died. I waited anxiously for my text that he had finished and it didn't come and didn't come and then finally it came. And it told me what I already knew. 3:41. Not fast enough. But Not Dead.

We went to our meeting place. When I saw Bill I hugged him and held him tight. "I didn't do it," he said into my hair. "I know," I said. "It's ok."

He dried off, put on clean clothes, popped blisters, and we got back on the train to go North for leftover spaghetti and meatballs before we headed for the airport.

Bill talked about the race and the disorientation that comes with running in such a large race in a strange city. He talked about the heat and the people dropping off on the sidelines with spectators force feeding them water while they waited for medical personnel. He said that he felt the drop in his pace and resisted a bit, but then saw the numbers of runners laying on the side of the road and decided that at this point he just wanted his Finisher Medal.

I was ready to start planning a December marathon so he could still qualify for Boston in 2008. "Dallas and Las Veags both have December marathons," I said.

"I think I'll just wait until the Lincoln Marathon in the Spring."

"That's not early enough for Boston," I said.

"There's always next year."

"I am glad that I am married to a Cubs fan," I said.