Chicago Marathon

Ratings Guide:
Half handshake, half chest-bump hug – 5 stars
Chest bump – 4 stars
Fist bump – 3 stars
High five – 2 stars
Handshake – 1 star
Manly ass slap – ½ star
Fone and fone – 0 stars



Restaurant: Chicago Marathon
Location: Chicago


Many years ago (maybe five?) my friend Brandon decided that he wanted to spend the summer doing triathlons and he somehow convinced me to do them with him. Our first one was a sprint distance called Race for Sight in Columbia, MO. I had actually done the race the year before, so I wasn’t really concerned about doing it again. It was a pretty short race. A 400m swim or something, which is done in a pool, so you just swim back and forth in the pool like 8 times or something. Really easy. Then there’s the bike ride, which is like 18 miles or so, and is actually pretty challenging because there are a lot of hills. And you finish with a run that is only about 3 miles, but it’s got a couple of hills that I don’t enjoy. But again, not the most challenging tri in the world. So we headed up to Columbia the night before and were staying at Mike and Gretchen’s place. Mike’s brother Tim was actually doing the race as well, so it worked out pretty good. We headed to dinner, and our buddy Dru was working at Addison’s as a bartender, so we knew he’d hook us up a little bit, plus it would be a nice chance to hang out with him. Well, I figured I could handle eating some extra food, because again, the race wasn’t THAT hard, and I had actually done it the year before by myself. So I started off with the crab Rangoon dip (which is awesome), followed by a BBQ chicken pizza, followed by some pasta. And somewhere in there I thought it would be a good idea to start drinking beer, so I had about four or five Miller High Life’s as well. But again, by the end of the night I felt fine. And the next morning for the race, I felt fine. And during the swim, I felt fine. And during the bike ride, I felt fine. And during the run, well that was a different story. As I climbed the final gradual incline to the finish line I could feel my stomach doing jumping jacks. I had to stop and walk for a second, but when I did my entire body reacted, um, unfavorably. I thought I was going to puke, so I clenched up to keep that from happening. That caused me to nearly defecate on myself. My body shot straight up, stiff as a board, as I tried to hold it in from both ends. Let me tell you something – nothing feels worse than the uncontrollable urge to puke and poop at the exact same time. I nearly passed out. I was able to somehow keep myself from doing either, but I had to immediately sprint the last quarter mile to the finish line, knowing that if I stopped again anything could happen. I crossed the finish line and pretty much headed straight to the nearest toilet. Let’s just say that things didn’t end well for the toilet.

So last February I turned 30, which wasn’t a huge deal, but it definitely puts things in perspective a little bit, and I realized there were a ton of things I had expected to do by 30 that I hadn’t done. Running a marathon was one of those things, so I decided to sign up for the Chicago Marathon, which is traditionally one of the easier ones because it’s about as flat as my eighth-grade girlfriend (which is to say my girlfriend I had when I was in eighth grade, not a current girlfriend who is in eighth grade. Just wanted to make that clear).

To celebrate the worst idea in history I wanted to write a journal about my week leading up to the marathon. But since I take notes about a well as Brittany raises her kids, there are a lot of holes in the following information. Oh well, you’ll live.

I didn’t want to make the same mistake I made back in Columbia, so I vowed to clean out my system the week before the marathon and try to eat and drink right. Of course it didn’t quite work out that way.

MONDAY

For lunch I headed to Shaw’s Crab House with Debbie. I had about two loaves of bread using the garlic butter as dipping sauce. If you haven’t tried it, then I don’t know what else to tell you in order to convince you to try it. If heaven had a taste, it would probably be this. Or Matt’s Cookies. Or stuffed pizza. Or melted cheese. Or cheese fries. Or a chocolate milkshake. Needless to say, if heaven tastes like spinach, I’m not gonna be happy. I also had a bowl of the lobster bisque and a crab cake. The crab cake had a lot of shells in it, so I broke my tooth about four times, which kind of pissed me off. Now, had the shells been covered in garlic butter, I probably wouldn’t have minded so much.

For dinner I headed out to the O.P. to hang with the fam and eat at Trattoria 225. I ate prosciutto wrapped mozzarella, a Caesar salad, some pizza, and a baked penne pasta. I wasn’t sure if you’re supposed to carbo load a week out from the race, so I did just in case. After finishing off dinner with an apple pie I decided that the week of cleansing would start on Tuesday.

TUESDAY

Tuesday night I ran 7 miles, my last “long” run before the race. It felt so I good I got some McDonald’s for lunch. But, I was really good about what I ordered. So I only got a Big Mac, fries, and a cheeseburger. And a Diet Coke. I felt pretty guilty about the whole thing, so I decided to get a second workout in that night with a grueling game of co-ed flag football. It’d been a year since I played, so I wasn’t sure how I’d do. But I was like Vinny Testeverde. Except good. And not old. And not the arm of a 12-year-old girl. I threw five touchdowns, had three INTs while playing defense, and returned one of them for a TD. In case you skipped your math study hall, that’s 6 TDs total. And I left early because I had to take Debbie to the hospital after some chick raked her eye with her vicious talons. Shouldn’t it be a law that you have to cut your nails before playing any sport? Some people have a gift. Mine is co-ed sports. And eating.

After dropping Debbie off at the ER, I headed to pick up Geoff for our man-date. We headed to Handlebar. I figured they specialize in vegetarian and vegan food, and you don’t see too many fat vegetarians or hippies, so it seemed like a good place to get dinner during my week of cleansing. And it was (I’ll write more about it in my next post, which could be tomorrow, or next year. You never know with me.). We enjoyed nachos, a couple different sandwiches, some mac and cheese (which was terrific, and you’ll hear more about when I write more about it), and about six or seven beers (not all at Handlebar, but either way, beer probably wasn’t a good idea during the week. Luckily I only drank it about four of the six nights.). After two days of cleansing, I was feeling less than cleansed.

WEDNESDAY

I don’t remember what I ate on Wednesday. I’m 99.9% sure I blacked out when Piniella took Big Z out of the game, and when I came to everything was fuzzy and the Cubs were losing. Not good times. At least the Bears are playing well.

THURSDAY

For lunch I went to Specialty Bakery to get a sandwich. Most people haven’t heard of Specialty and have no idea where it is. In fact, it probably deserves its own post at some point, but since I don’t see that happening anytime soon, you’ll have to settle for this mini-paragraph. It’s on Lake St., right off of Wacker. They serve sandwiches and baked goods. And everything here is great. From the breakfast sandwich (I reco the Sante Fe) to the lunch sandwiches (they’re all good) to the baked goods (the cookies are great, and the cinnamon rolls are a guaranteed heart attack, which is code for “amazing”), I haven’t found anything I don’t like. On this day I went with the Thai Chicken sandwich on rye. Just terrific. Not too much peanut sauce, a good balance of toppings, and incredibly filling for a sandwich. My only complaint is that the chicken is probably not that fresh. Most likely pre-cooked and microwaved. At least that’s what it tasted like. But it didn’t bother me. Still enjoyed it immensely. I was finally getting the week of cleansing back on track. And then…

For dinner we headed to The Boundary to watch the Cubs game. The Boundary is a new sports bar in Wicker Park. It also symbolizes the death of Wicker Park as we know it. Boundary feels like it should be firmly planted in the Viagra Triangle, or Lincoln Park, or Weed St. Instead, it’s located on Division. In the heart of what used to be Wicker Park. But what can now only be referred to The Artist Formally Known as Wicker Park. Of course the place was filled with hot chicks, so all is instantly forgiven. Now, as much as I hate the fact that this place feels more like a club than a sports bar, and as much as I hate the fact that it really does feel like the last stake in the heart of Wicker Park, the food here is really good. We started off with the spinach dip (I loved it, and it was served with three different kinds of dipping choices – chips, pita bread, and some toasted bread), con queso (amazing, truly amazing (even if it did just taste like a Ro-Tel dip I’d make at home)), and fried mac and cheese (not bad, but definitely sounded better than it tasted). Somehow I was still hungry after all of that, so I ordered The Horseshoe. It might be one of the single greatest things available in the city. They start off with a piece of toast (pretty sure it was Texas toast). Then they put a huge burger patty on top of it. Then they top that with the fried app of your choice (onion rings, fries, or tater tots (I went with the tater tots)). And the whole thing is then topped with the con queso. I was speechless. But that’s probably because my mouth was full of burger/bread/tater tots/melted cheese. It’s one of the few cardiac-arrest-inducing foods that you have to eat with a fork and knife, which is no easy feat. I finished off the evening with the apple pie, which was horrible. But, the menu is full of classic bar food choices, along with some “eclectic” food choices (like a burger with peanut butter and jelly). And there is a HUGE beer selection (I opted for the Shiner Bock and the High Life (three of each). And there’s a shuffleboard (which is a nice dive-bar touch for a place that is nowhere close to a dive bar. I think it’s their way of trying to appease the “hipsters” in the area. If there are any left.). So the place has a lot going for it. And in closing, this night didn’t help the marathon preparation process. And I hate the Cubs.

FRIDAY

At this point I probably should have just given up the idea of eating right before the marathon and accepted the fact that I was going to ruin my shorts somewhere along the race route. But, I’m not a quitter. So for lunch I decided to head to Cosi for a salad. That was until I saw John, Dave, and Pete in the lobby of my building. They were heading to McDonald’s to play some Monopoly. Who was I to argue? I joined them, but took it easy, ordering a Big Mac, large fry, and large diet coke. That gave me six Monopoly pieces. And not one of them was an instant winner for me. What a rip.

Brent and Susan were in town for the night, so a big group of us headed over to Hot Chocolate for dinner. Again, trying to keep it light I ordered a milkshake (twice), which was never delivered (probably for the best). Then a grilled cheese (which wasn’t very big (also for the best) and tasted decent). And then an order of the mac and cheese. I could write about it all day (what kind of cheese (gouda), how much there was (a very good-size portion), how good it was, how it made my pants fit a little tighter, how my tongue almost swallowed itself, etc…). Instead, I’ll just say this – it was the best mac and cheese I’ve ever had. Ever. Ever, ever, ever. Ever. Ever. It goes without saying that it gets an HJ rating. All of the girls at the table took a bite, and I believed two of them orgasmed. Dave took a bite. He also orgasmed (but in a tantric way, so he didn’t ruin his shorts). I can’t say enough about it.

SATURDAY

One day until the race. The weather was heating up, I was developing a blister, and I didn’t exactly treat my body right all week. Needless to say I was terrified. So on this day I had cereal, played a round of golf (where I walked as a warm-up to the marathon, and also where I developed a blister), had a pork chop sandwich at the Cog Hill clubhouse (which was just OK), and a frozen pizza for dinner (which seemed like a good idea at the time). In hindsight I should have gone with a couple of hot dogs. Oh well. You live and you learn.

SUNDAY

The day of reckoning. I woke up at 6 and started off with a cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese, a banana, and some water. After putting on my race day clothes (white mesh shorts, black socks, Nike+ running shoes, a mustache (which was supposed to be my Prefontaine good luck charm), and my Jordan rookie-year jersey, I headed to the train. The platform at California was packed with runners, and when the train finally came it was almost impossible to find anywhere to stand. I guess that’s what happens when you have 45,000 people running a race. After getting off the train and heading to the starting area I ate another banana and a plain bagel with cream cheese. My stomach felt good and full without being too full. I topped everything off with some Gatorade (lemonade flavor). I was ready to go. As we creped to the starting line (I was with a couple of guys my dad works with (Matt, Derek, and Rob)), I wasn’t prepared for what I saw next. Several women jumped the fence, ran over to a tree, squatted down, and went pee. Right in front of everyone. You could see everything. Suddenly the two bagels and two bananas weren’t sitting as well as they once were. Not the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. As I crossed the start line I had a rush of adrenaline.

About 12 seconds later it went away as I was sweating profusely. It was hot out. At about mile 2 my clothes weighed an extra 6 lbs. At mile 4 I stopped and said “hi” to Steve and Halley. At mile 7 I stopped and said “hi” to Jen and Cleatus. At mile 8 I questioned what the hell I was thinking. At mile 9 I lost my will to live. By mile 10 I had consumed about 1,000 ounces of Gatorade and water. And it still wasn’t enough to keep me hydrated. At mile 10 I stopped and had a nice chat with Kristy and Claire. Kristy was nice enough to have a banana and M&Ms waiting for me. Before the race started I thought that would be more than enough, but at this point with the heat, it wasn’t even close. She asked if I wanted water, and after telling her that I would father her first-born for a cup of water, she ran up to her apartment and brought down a 16 oz Solo cup along with a gallon of water fresh from the fridge. I’m not exaggerating when I say it was the best water I’ve ever drank in my entire life. I downed half the cup, had her fill me back up, and then was on my way. I thought the M&Ms and banana would both be satisfying and delicious, but they were neither. The M&Ms just didn’t taste right, but that’s because anything that wasn’t wet didn’t taste right. And I think I had maxed out my banana consumption for the day. I was only able to eat about a half a bag of the candy, and half the banana before needing to ditch the rest. Have I mentioned how hot and miserable it was outside? I began running again, but let’s just say I’m not much of a runner and my training wasn’t up-to-par and I’m a tad overweight (I’m also the only person in history to train for a marathon and not lose 1 lb. Very sad.). So, after about mile 11 I began doing a little walking mixed in with a little running.

And I must have looked horrible, because it was at this point that a woman who was running had a full bottle of Gatorade, took a swig of it, then handed it to me. I told her I was OK, but she insisted, and then said, “You look like you need it more than I do.” That pretty much summed up the entire day for me. At mile 14 I grabbed a handful of ice from one of the spectators and held it against my neck. I couldn’t feel it. It was like it wasn’t there. I knew this was a very, very, very bad sign. I was actually prepared to quit, but my mom was waiting for me at mile 15, so I had to at least make it that far so she wasn’t standing outside (and she had biked there) in vain. And my buddy Tony was waiting for me at mile 20 to run the last 6 miles with me, so I didn’t want to let him down. Somehow I made it to mile 15 to see my mom. She gave me a bottle of water that was the exact opposite of the water Kristy had given me. This bottle was near boiling. Yet I drank more than half of it because I was that thirsty. I almost saved the second half of it so I could make some mac and cheese at mile 18, but was too weak to continue carrying the bottle, so I ditched it. For the next 5 miles I did the walk a mile/run a mile compromise. And this worked out really well. I actually found some new energy and was pretty sure I could do the rest of the race this way. Around mile 19 they started announcing that they had cancelled the race and asked people to start heading back to Grant Park. This was all the motivation I needed. No way I was quitting now. Not after four months of training. And if I did quit, then I’d still have to do another marathon in my lifetime so I could say I completed one. I kept going (as did everyone else), on my way to meet up with Tony. Soon they started asking everyone to walk, and all the clocks along the route were shut off. So almost everyone started walking. By the time I met up with Tony it was really hard to run. Partly because I was exhausted, and partly because running became like an obstacle course as you had to zig and zag through thousands of walkers. It wasn’t fun. We ended up walking most of the way from mile 21 through mile 25. I tried to have another banana, but it really didn’t sit well. Also tried some “goo”, which tasted like “goo”. Which is to say “not good”. At mile 25 Tony convinced me to run the rest of the way, which I did. For the most part. When I crossed the finish line I did the “Jordan” (the dunk pose made famous by his logo), which made my legs cramp up in a way that I thought I was going to pass out. Somehow I was able to stick the landing. Luckily the finish line was stocked with bottles and bottles of water. All at a temperature that could cook shrimp. I ended up having to walk about a half mile to a 7-Eleven before I was able to get cold water.

By the time I got home I was so exhausted all I could do was lay on the couch (which was a step up from the 9,000 runners I saw who could only curl up and lay on the sidewalk along the route). I was starving, but I was so tired I couldn’t find the energy to eat. I just curled up into a ball for about four hours before I was finally able to muster up the energy to have a bowl of cereal. I would say it was the worst I’ve every felt in my entire life. Even worse than the time I had food poisoning and lost 10 lbs in 24 hours.

In the end, the race was a success simply for the fact that I didn’t pull an “Oops I Crapped My Pants”. Will I ever do another marathon? I wish I could say “no”, but my time was so horrible that I’m sure I’ll do at least one more just so that I have a time I’m not embarrassed to tell people (5:49 by the way).

I give my marathon experience a handshake, and that’s only because I finished.




Got a question? Send it to josh@borntofork.com.