I used to think that people who ran marathons were crazy.
Well I experienced the madness and mayhem first hand over the weekend. There was an estimated 50,000 runners at the Chicago Marathon on Sunday and roughly 1.5 million spectators spread throughout the city. The amount of adrenaline, excitement and sheer will that floated through the air was incredible.
The longest road race I ever participated in was the 8K crim race in August and to me that was exiting. That was nothing in comparison to the 26.2 miles that people ran with goal to win, to set a PR or simply just to finish. And I was only a spectator. To say I was proud of my friend Lindsay as I received the text saying she had crossed the finish line is an understatement. I'm not sure how many people I told about "my friend running the marathon" leading up to race weekend.
I followed her through the course as best as I could just for the chance to cheer her on, which is like a cruel game of Where's Waldo. My first attempt was at mile 3. Nothing. Then mile 13. I was able to scream for her just as she had ran strong past me. At mile 17 I came up short again. But along the way I was able to cheer on thousands of other runners and was blown away that after only an hour small clusters of runners were barreling past the half way point.
Amazed.
Well I experienced the madness and mayhem first hand over the weekend. There was an estimated 50,000 runners at the Chicago Marathon on Sunday and roughly 1.5 million spectators spread throughout the city. The amount of adrenaline, excitement and sheer will that floated through the air was incredible.
The longest road race I ever participated in was the 8K crim race in August and to me that was exiting. That was nothing in comparison to the 26.2 miles that people ran with goal to win, to set a PR or simply just to finish. And I was only a spectator. To say I was proud of my friend Lindsay as I received the text saying she had crossed the finish line is an understatement. I'm not sure how many people I told about "my friend running the marathon" leading up to race weekend.
I followed her through the course as best as I could just for the chance to cheer her on, which is like a cruel game of Where's Waldo. My first attempt was at mile 3. Nothing. Then mile 13. I was able to scream for her just as she had ran strong past me. At mile 17 I came up short again. But along the way I was able to cheer on thousands of other runners and was blown away that after only an hour small clusters of runners were barreling past the half way point.
Amazed.
Let's not forget about the entertainment that came with the day. Never have I seen so many cow bells in one place or people lining the streets just to yell out the name if someone they don't know. They just read it printed on a shirt or painted on a person's skin. And even with an estimated 80 degree temperature high for the day runners were dressed as a superhero, some other character or in a tutu (men included). It was just as fun for people like me who woke up ungodly early to witness what I used to call crazy.
A handful of hours after she stepped over the start line Lindsay crossed the finish line. I instantly changed my Facebook status and eagerly waited for her to get to our meeting place. She met me there soon after with her medal around her neck and a well deserved beer in her hand. Then the celebration began.
I still think people who run marathons are a bit crazy. But one day I hope to be just as crazy.
Check out Lindsay's blog here.
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