Chicago Marathon

Yes, I was supposed to run a marathon — and no, I didn't follow any recommended training guide.

Prelude

Even before my first race, the idea of running a marathon was already running (no pun intended) through my mind. At the time, I didn't know much: how long a marathon actually was, the recommended weekly training plan, or the suggested nutritional intake before, during, and after the race. But after doing a 10K in 2018 and then a half marathon in 2019, I decided to sign up for the 2020 Chicago Marathon to keep the trend going. Miraculously, I made the lottery and was accepted into the marathon roster. Because the race was still far away, I was excited and already envisioning myself finishing among a roaring crowd. Long story short, COVID-19 happened and the marathon was postponed.

The organization gave me a choice: defer to the next year with a guaranteed entry, or get a refund. For some reason, I chose the refund. After skipping the 2021 race and suffering from major FOMO during the 2022 race, I registered again for the 2023 marathon and began counting down the days.

Preparation

Yes, I was supposed to run a marathon — and no, I didn't follow any recommended training guide. I didn't join CARA (Chicago Area Running Association) until late 2024, so I had no real direction on how to properly train. For months, the most I did was run three to seven miles per week at my local track, telling myself I'd add more miles "next time." Eventually, with only three weeks left, I did what was probably the closest thing to a marathon-appropriate practice run: I ran 15 miles on my treadmill, taking several breaks between miles while watching the latest Indiana Jones movie on my phone.

I even contemplated not running the marathon at all until one of the guys from my school's run club convinced me to stay in. After some thought, I decided to bite the bullet and run it. Before I knew it, marathon morning had arrived.

Getting There

My official start time was between eight and nine in the morning, but I was already on my way to the city at four, knowing streets would be blocked early. I parked near my school (my usual spot) and walked toward Grant Park. It was still dark, but the place was already packed — typical for a race with over forty thousand runners. I wore a full-sleeve jacket but thin shorts, so the early morning chill hit hard. I walked and jogged around just to warm up.

Hours passed, and eventually the sun was fully out. By then, I had met a few friends, reunited with a neighbor I hadn't seen in almost twenty years, and was waiting in the corral for the race of a lifetime. Eventually, the horn blared, the race began, and I officially started running the 2023 Chicago Marathon.

The Race

We started at Grant Park on Columbus Drive, heading north across the wide road and under the bridge. Any fatigue I felt before the race disappeared — I was filled with energy and excitement, eager to finish my first marathon. The first few miles were similar to other Chicago races: starting on Columbus, running through River North, passing Grand, State, and LaSalle. This is also where we crossed our first iconic Chicago bridge. Beyond that, the route changed.

The next five miles took us further north. After the third mile marker, I ran up LaSalle Street, occasionally slowing down to wave at friends and grab water or Gatorade from volunteers. After River North came Old Town, with its small bars and apartment buildings lining both sides of the street. Then came Lincoln Park, where I ran past the zoo. The city landscape began to clear out, giving way to more open streets and smaller buildings. I was still keeping pace without slowing down, surprising myself. For a moment, I thought I might make it through the entire race without walking.

After the sixth mile marker, we were on Cannon Drive, heading toward Sheridan Road and leaving Lincoln Park. Lake Michigan lined the right side, parkland on the left, and the Loop sat far behind us. We continued north on Lake Shore Drive toward the northernmost part of the course, reaching the eight-mile marker. After that, we turned around and headed south — still nowhere near halfway.

Beyond mile eight, I ran south back through Lincoln Park and Old Town for the next three miles. By mile twelve, I was back in the Loop. Leaving the Loop, I headed toward the West Loop — one of Chicago's most vibrant areas. I didn't run down the famous Randolph Street; instead, I trotted west on Jackson Boulevard. The crowds thinned slightly, and the roads opened up, giving me more space to maneuver. Around mile fourteen, I left the West Loop and entered Greektown, where the crowd picked up again. That entire mile was a long straightaway, making it easy to lock into my pace. By now, I had definitely slowed compared to the first ten miles, but the energy here was incredible — people lining the streets, holding signs, screaming encouragement, and high-fiving runners.

At mile sixteen, I reached the UIC campus, running past the buildings and briefly thinking of my cousin who went to school there. This area felt similar to the West Loop and Greektown, and before long, I was off UIC grounds.

Past UIC, I entered Little Italy, where the crowd seemed determined to out-cheer Greektown. People waved flags, offered handouts, and high-fived everyone. It was impossible not to feel energized. Pilsen, the next neighborhood, matched that energy with its own massive crowds. After Pilsen came the last major neighborhood before the final stretch: Chinatown.

Chinatown may have been my favorite part of the race. Aside from the large crowds and music, there was something epic about running through the Chinatown Gate and down the narrow streets lined with small restaurants and convenience stores. People were out and about, some offering handouts from their storefronts. Someone might have been offering Malört shots too — unfortunately, I wasn't lucky enough to spot them.

By now, I was past mile twenty and alternating between walking and running, knowing I would still make my time. Volunteers offered half bananas and Biofreeze sprays — a late-race miracle. Chinatown provided exactly the energy needed to begin wrapping up the marathon.

Leaving Chinatown, I ran on 35th Street near Guaranteed Rate Field — the southernmost part of the race. Finally, we headed north on Michigan Avenue toward the finish. Midway past mile twenty-three, I reached the long stretch of Michigan Avenue, crossing miles twenty-four and twenty-five. I was still alternating between walking and running, but I was elated knowing I had only one mile left. With a final burst of energy, I passed the "1 Mile Left" banner, ran from Michigan Avenue to Columbus Drive, and with a smile on my face, crossed the finish line — officially completing my first marathon.

First Marathon Review

What did I think of my first marathon? I loved it.

The weather was cloudy, and I saw the sun maybe once or twice near the end, so nothing was a mood-killer. But the best part was the energy from the crowd. I had done many races before — 10Ks, half marathons — but this was the first time where the entire 26.2-mile route was lined with screaming spectators. There wasn't a single quiet area. People everywhere were cheering, holding creative signs, and giving us energy. The longer the race went, the more extreme the handouts became: early miles had water and Gatorade, but later miles had candy (hopefully legal), pain pills, alcohol, and even free kisses. I also saw many friends who were tracking me and calling out my name.

After the race, my legs were stiff. I remember dropping my medal and having to use my foot to pick it up because I couldn't bend my knees. I found a tree in Grant Park and sat against it, realizing I couldn't get up — but I didn't care. I had just finished a full marathon, a race I was ready to quit three weeks earlier until a friend knocked me back into my senses.