I'm running on behalf of Lance Armstrong's LiveStrong Foundation, which was created to inspire and empower people affected by cancer. The foundation provides practical information and tools for people with cancer so that they can live life on their own terms. The Lance Armstrong Foundation also works to unite people to fight cancer and aims to pursue an agenda focused on prevention, access to screening and care; improvement of the quality of life for cancer survivors; and investment in research. I plan to run strong to honor the courage and bravery of family members and friends who have battled cancer over the years.
5:20 p.m.: On the Orange line train heading down to Soldier Field. Lots of runners getting on at the Kedzie and 35th & Archer stops. I'm just wondering if I drank enough water today. It's very hot (about 87 right now). The key will be to pace myself for the first two miles - not start out too fast. There's not a cloud in the sky!
5:35 p.m.-ish: The Roosevelt Road stop on the CTA 'el line is a sea of red-shirted runners of all sizes, shapes and colors. Everyone is making one long exodus east to Soldier Field. A number of us have the same idea ... stop at the AM/PM mini-mart at the corner of Roosevelt and Wabash to pick up water, Gatorade, Propel, etc. The sun continues to beat down on the city as it sets. It will take another 10-15 minutes to walk over to where we're told gear check is located on the east side of Soldier Field ... this is where the disorganization of this race began to rear its ugly head.
5:50 p.m.-ish: Gear check was supposed to be at Gate 9; but, in reality, it was actually located inside the gates of the stadium. The signage and system was terrible. I understand that they had a large number of runners to deal with (closed to 14,000), but there were obvious organizational/setup problems. They needed more room. By the time I got my backpack checked, I had 15 minutes to use the bathroom and the start of the race.
6:15 p.m.-ish: The lines inside Soldier Field were long; so, I headed outside to the port-a-potties. They only had about 25 port-a-potties and the lines stretched back close to 40 people deep. I stood in line for about 10 minutes, but I was getting nervous about the start of the race; so, I decided to hold it in and just head to the starting corrals.
6:30 p.m. You were supposed to line up based upon your minute per mile pace, but that was thrown on the window because there just wasn't enough room on Museum Campus Drive for everyone. The race started close to 10 minutes late. It took me close to 20 minutes to even get to the starting line from where I was in the corral.
6:50 p.m.: I'm finally running! It is hot ... too hot (upper 80's still). There are lots of people cheering us on which is great. Less than a 1/4 mile into the run, there are people taking walk breaks already, which blows me away. I've dedicated the first mile to my former co-worker Maureen, who is a breast cancer survivor, and all women who are battling breast cancer. The first mile includes a run through the McCormick Place West dock. It is incredibly hot and there is no air circulating through this long tunnel-like area. There is light at the end of the tunnel! First mile split: 11:11. The water station was mobbed. I tried not to trip or slip on the plastic cups that they were using. Drank a little water and poured the rest on my shirt. There is an official cheering section for Chicago's 2016 Olympic bid along this section. Banners featuring various 2016 logos line both sides of the street and we're cheered on by 2016 volunteers, including Olympian Michael Conley. Very cool!
The second mile is dedicated to my cousin Michael in his successful battle against bladder cancer. We continue south and I feel more settled and comfortable in my pace. We're actually running on Lake Shore Drive at this point. It seems like we're never going to turn around ... like we're going to run all the way to Hyde Park. There is this one female runner who is way pumped up and keeps shouting positive statements like "I'm doing it!" "we're doing it!" "I'm making history", but more people are getting annoyed with her. She'll sprint for about 30 seconds and then walk for another 30. As we approach the uphill exit ramp to Oakwood Blvd. to head east toward the three mile mark, she's no where to be seen ... or heard. I hit the 5k mark somewhere near 35 minutes. I'm still within my goal time. My third mile is dedicated to all the kids fighting childhood cancers and their parents and healthcare workers ... I think of Janice and all of her patients - the ones that she lost and the ones that have survived.I head into my fourth mile with a little drink of Gatorade and a band playing Tom
Petty's "American Girl". The sun is setting over the city and I can see downtown. We are finally heading north, but we are so far south. The sleeves of my shirt are so wet - making it difficult to wipe the sweat off my forehead. This mile is dedicated to Julia and other childhood cancer survivors who are battling cancer yet again in adulthood. There is a breeze coming off the lake and it does wonders. I am happy with my time at the 4th mile split. I feel good.It's getting real dark now and little kids who were picnicing with their families are lining up along the running path and giving us high-fives. I am trying to high-five as many hands as I can because these kids (and adults, too) are a big encouragement to all of us in this last stretch. Perhaps, one of these boys or girls will be encouraged themselves to take up running one day, too. Lots of the runners are taking walk breaks now. I am trying to pick up the pace and finish under 1:10. I say a prayer for the people of New Orleans as they are fleeing their homes to escape the wrath of Hurricane Gustav.
My time at the 5 mile mark was about 58 minutes or so. It was really hard to see anything on the path because the lights were still out (not good). We began to hear lots of ambulance sirens. Along this stretch, I saw three people injured along the course. One man took a nasty fall and banged his head on the ground. I dedicated this last mile to my mom in her successful battle against lung cancer and skin cancer. Lake Michigan is right next to us and we can now see Soldier Field before us. We are running east of the old McCormick Place. It seems like it is taking forever to get to the finish line. There are a few people cheering us on. As we begin to approach the 6 mile mark, I can hear the public address announcer speaking and he's announcing the names of runners as they cross the finish line. I make the final turn onto Waldron Drive and see the finish line. I completed the course and kept my faith.
All finishers were given a baton-like container which held a finishers bracelet to commemorate the event. I grabbed some ice for my knee from the first aid tent and then made my way to gear check to retrieve my backpack (still very chaotic). Inside Soldier Field, Chicago's hometown band Fall Out Boy performed a concert for all runners and volunteers.
My official time: 1:12:46.
