2009 Chicago Marathon: It’s a race report.

Long distance running, without a group of 44,999 enthusiastic running-mates, that is, is so mind-numbingly boring that it’s a shame anybody ever has to do it at all. But one day each year, the city of Chicago is nice enough to put on a 45,000-runner event, and just before noon on Sunday, October 11, 2009, I completed my second running of the Chicago Marathon. [Insert applause!] It’s an impressive achievement, but mainly it’s a six-hour party which, if you’re lucky, takes only three or four.

The Chicago Marathon is a world-class event that draws elite runners from all over the world who hope to break world records on this fast, flat course. In addition, 17,000 first-time marathoners ran the course this year, participants came from 120 countries, and the event is an economic win for Chicago, bringing $140 million in tourist dollars to the city in 2008.

I can’t say I broke any world records, traveled from another country, or spent much money in Chicago because of the marathon this year, but I still had a unique set of experiences that won’t contribute to the city’s history but will always remain a special part of my life. Here I will share some of those experiences.

Runner, Pace Thyself.
My first challenge was to decide how fast I wanted to run. I never sign up for a race with any intention other than to perform better than my last race. This was my second marathon so I had a clearly defined “Can’t-Do-Worse-Than” time (4:28, set in 2005). I trained with that in mind, despite the fact that I started from nearly zero in the spring when I started thinking about, and then training for, the marathon. So I stayed pretty disciplined, didn’t stray too far from my schedule, and even lost 15 pounds along the way. But due to a variety of factors I did just about everything wrong in the final three weeks leading up to the marathon, so I was a little nervous about what pace I should be setting.

The first problem was that the pace groups at that level are for 4:30, 4:15, and 4:00. There are no choices in between. Running with the 4:30 group in 2005 landed me at the finish line at 4:28. (I passed the group at some point during the final few miles.) But with my recent training flubs in mind, could I count on being able to keep up with the 4:15 group? (Never mind that throughout my training I secretly wished to finish in four hours.) When I entered the start corral on marathon day I was forced to make a decision. Would 4:15 really be that much harder than 4:30, or would 4:30 just take that much longer? In the moment, I picked the 4:15 group since there was no 4:20 group to fall back on, and 4:30 was not the group to run with to beat my previous time.

The second problem, that I was not aware of until after the race began, was that the pace groups this year ran with teeny tiny little pace signs. In 2005 they ran with enormous, 2-3′ diameter placards that could be seen a couple blocks back. But in 2009, while they held those large signs in the start corral so they could be easily found, the pace leaders didn’t actually run with them during the race. In addition to the “4:15″ bibs that people who had officially signed up for the group wore on their backs, there were a couple pace leaders carrying bib-sized signs on sticks that were difficult to see unless you were very close to them. So after the race began I was never sure if I was actually anywhere near the experienced pace leaders or if I was just running behind some group of yahoos with “4:15″ bibs on their backs who had long since fallen out of the group.

What ended up happening was that I paid attention to the largest groups of “4:15″ runners, watched the clock at every mile, and found that my natural pace was right on target. It helped having the “4:15″ people around (even though during the race I also saw a lot of “4:00″ and “4:30″ bibs, plus times in the three- and five-hour ranges), but I was very pleased with myself to find that the pace I wanted to run seemed to be the pace I was best suited for that morning.

Say Cheese!
One of the things you do to keep yourself occupied when you have nothing to do for the next several hours besides RUN is to stay on the lookout for photo opportunities. There are fewer of these than you’d like. And you don’t want to end up with a whole bunch of pictures of yourself with your finger up your nose, so it’s best to scan the sides of the streets and the overpasses for the guys with the big lenses basically the entire time. And so I did, and I either waved or mugged for the camera in some way each time I saw one.

Alas, only one photo taken by MarathonFoto.com (the official photographer) during the race caught me in any such pose. That is, except for the finish line photos, for which I prepared by raising my arms above my head about 20 seconds before crossing the finish line just to eliminate any doubt I was victorious.

This year I purchased the finish line photo, as that was the photo I purchased in 2005. I may as well have a matched set.

The Mile 25 Debacle
Well, I can’t usually have a long run without having an intestinal ailment. There, I said it, and now the world knows it: running upsets my wittle tummy. In 2005 it happened around mile 21. I had to walk for maybe a half mile until things settled down, and it wasn’t too distressing. But this year, it happened after mile 25. Not only was it after mile 25, but it was after mile 25.2, where they put up a big sign shouting that you have only one mile to go. One mile to go. That was the point at which my tummy got all rumbly, and at times like that I have to find a porta-potty, and I mean I have to find one NOW, or else I have to stop and walk and clench up every muscle in my body to avoid having an extremely embarrassing accident in front of thousands of people.

This is really the hardest thing for me about long distance running, except for the mind-numbingly boring part. Not all runners have this problem, but enough do that they made a term for it. But that’s enough about that.

So there I am at mile 25.2, a point at which I really wanted to push it. I had been watching the clock and it was looking like I had a shot at finishing in 4:10. I was really elated at that possibility, considering that on the drive downtown I wasn’t sure if I should even set my sights on 4:15. My pace was great. The weather was wonderful. I wasn’t winded. I had no injuries, not even a sore heel or toe. And suddenly, I’m looking at the doors of storefronts to see if any place is open and might be willing to offer me their restroom. I’m looking for large bushes I can possibly get away with squatting behind. I’m hearing people on the sidelines telling me that I have only five blocks to go. I’m seeing the guys with the “4:15″ signs on sticks passing me.

The 4:15 group is now passing me??

Something shifted inside me, and I picked up the pace. I was able to start running again. I didn’t want to overdo it, but I gradually gained on the pace leaders. I was in the semi-home-stretch, those blocks on Michigan Avenue before the turn on to Roosevelt Road that is home to the infamous hill. The hill that lasts about a block before turning on to the REAL home stretch, where the finish line is so close it’s jarring. And when I got to the real home stretch, there were the 4:15 pace leaders with their little 4:15 sticks, looking at their watches and kind of dancing around, realizing that they were ahead of pace. Right there I turned on the heat and zipped past them, racing past every last runner that I possibly could before reaching the end. And as I crossed the finish line with my arms up and a smile on my face, I realized that I never even thought to cry, because I had left all that emotion back around mile 25.2. I did it, I did it, I did it.

Now, the Results.

Name: Jennifer Swofford
Bib: 34515
Division: 35-39

Split	Time
Start:	7:42:01am (00:12:01)
5k:	00:30:14
10k:	01:00:01
15k:	01:29:50
20k:	01:59:16
Half:	02:05:41
25k:	02:28:47
30k:	02:59:18
35k:	03:29:35
40k:	03:59:39
Finish:	04:14:24

Totals
Place (total):	14,632
Place (gender):	4,420
Place (division):	740
Total (net):	04:14:24
Total (gun):	04:26:31
Pace:	9:42 min/mile

 
Next?
Right now I’m just looking for my next race. In marathon afterglow, you’re never sure if the Next Thing will be to try out a few more distances, to run a marathon in every state, or if you’re looking at qualifying for Boston next year. (That’s a 3:45 finish for my division.) I’ve only run once since the marathon, a quick four miles yesterday that seemed to set back my legs’ healing process by three or four days. It’s early to speculate. Only time will tell.