The View from Finishing Place 28,294 of 33,297
By Paul F. Witt, M.D.

On October 9, 2005, Felix Limo sprinted the 26.2 miles of the Chicago Marathon with the winning time of 2:07:02. While Felix was preparing to start the marathon, the “open” runners with me took positions on Columbus Drive behind the “Elite”, “Competitive”, “Preferred” and “Wheelchair” participants. We chose our positions blocks from the starting line near signs designating the times in which we hoped to finish. The longest time sign was the “5 hours 30 minute” although the course would be open for 7 hours. Optimistically I chose the “5 hour 15 minute” group, but thought my probability of crossing the finish line was as likely as the wind blowing from the east or the White Sox winning the World Series.

You may wonder what would prompt an otherwise logical and sensible person to attempt a marathon. When my good friend, Jim, announced in early 2004 his intention to run the Chicago Marathon, I had my best laugh of that year. I thought his chance of finishing was slim to none, but finish he did. His success led me to think that maybe I could attempt a marathon.

To find a marathon training program, I went to www.amazon. com and chose the book The Non-Runner’s Marathon Trainer which I thought described me well. It evolved out of a course at the University of Northern Iowa where everyone in the course ran a marathon. The goal was not to be fast, but simply to finish. The training was running 4 days a week for 16 weeks. Because I was 3 times the age of college students, I started running 13 months before the marathon, doing 3 mile runs 3-4 times a week for 5 months before increasing the distances. My running log shows that I had run 783 miles prior to the marathon.

Sunday October 9th was an ideal day for a marathon. It was sunny with the temperature in the 50’s and the wind was from the east at 10 to 15 mph. Positioned near the end of 34,128 runners, we did not even hear the starting horn at 8 am. It was obvious that the starting time was near when the runners standing in the street started throwing hundreds of sweatshirts and pants high in the air to the curbs and sidewalks. About 8:10 the crowd around me started to inch forward. About 8:20 we started to jog as we stepped across the start line. Magically, at that instant, the densely packed mass of humanity expanded, giving us just enough room to slowly jog comfortably. It was like being part of a giant slinky that pulled apart just at the start line. Columbus Drive with no parked cars is 6 lanes wide and the entire 6 lanes were full of runners moving like a fast flowing river. We were all swept along by each other. Between the tall buildings, the torrent of runners reminded me of the Colorado River floating me through the Grand Canyon earlier in the year.

There is an old dog sled saying that if you are not the lead dog, the view never changes. That is definitely not the case with a marathon. Runners put anything they want to communicate with fellow runners on the back of their shirts. One T shirt read: “2004 Angioplasty, 2005 Marathon”. Another instructed “If you find me collapsed, call 1-800-Dumb- Ass” Another read “Marathon #26”and he was one of the few runners that may have been my age.

As the “slinky” of runners spread out a little, I recognized many old friends. 30 yards ahead of me in blue tights, a red cape and with a large gold “S” on his chest ran Superman. A little further ahead in his usual dark green was Kermit the Frog. Runners in costumes are known as stunt runners. For me, being passed by Superman was less painful than being passed by Miss Piggy, but you may feel differently. A more generic runner was wearing a huge bathrobe over his usual running shorts and shirt. When I saw him again 10 miles later, he still was sporting the bathrobe. Two men proclaimed their White Sox enthusiasm with body paint. One had his upper body painted black with “Sox” in white and his friend was painted white with “Sox” in black. A patriotic man carried a 2 by 3 foot American Flag on a short wooden flag pole. Another man carried a waiter’s tray over his head as he ran.

The 34,128 runners and many more spectators at the Grant Park start soon morphed into a giant 26.2 mile long party. The surprisingly enthusiastic crowds lining our route were pleasantly distracting. Often I found myself smiling and laughing as I watched the entertainment going on around us. The duration of the party at different locations varied greatly. At the start line all runners passed in less than 30 minutes. The finish line was open for 5 hours after the winner passed. Millennium Park was a mass of humanity at the start and finish. At the start, the bridge across Columbus Drive was packed with people and banners. Going north on LaSalle Street the crowds were up to 3 people deep. There was a lot of cheering and bell ringing even for us last, slow runners. As we started south on Broadway, bars crowded at 9:30 am had spilled onto the sidewalk to be part of the festivities. All runners probably passed there in about 1 hour. After 13 miles the spectators dwindled as the spread-out runners took hours to pass.

The signs in the crowd were a constant source of amusement. There was the usual “Julie will you marry me?” and the less common “Maria I am pregnant”. Just past the halfway point, going west on Adams toward the United Center, a church proudly displaying a 2 story vertical banner hanging from the steeple: “May the road rise to meet your feet”. That was a very nice sentiment to the runners; particularly considering that the race increased the distance the church’s parishioners south of the church had to travel to attend Sunday morning services.

The crowd in Chinatown was surprisingly large. The spectators stood 8 to 10 people deep, significantly narrowed the road for the runners. There I saw my first “live” Chinese Dragon. The crowd may have been there to see the Dragon, but the encouragement was timely for the runners after 21 miles. The 1? miles from Chinatown to the White Sox’s US Cellular Field seemed unusually long. When I saw the “Grinder Rule #162” on the Cell “Crying is allowed in baseball only when the champagne gets in your eyes”, I knew I would be able to finish the last 3 miles. The White Sox had just swept Boston for the AL Division Championship in 3 games. Because game 5 which was scheduled in Chicago on the day of the marathon was not needed, the marathon did not have to be rerouted.

There were many bands stationed along the course and one each mile the last 5 miles. The group in the Chicago Stadium parking lot was particularly good. There was a mariachi band as we ran east on 18th street. There was also a priest outside a church cheering us on. It was about noon, so his morning services may have just ended. On South Michigan Avenue there was an oriental metal percussion band.

The hydration stations were located about ever 2 miles along the course. Tables lining both sides of the street were stocked with cups of Endurance Gatorade and water. Drinking and running are not easily coordinated and the spilled Gatorade made the road slippery. After 5 miles runners started sucking down packets of energy gels. I had never had an energy gel but it seemed like a good time to try one. I chose a raspberry energy packet and found myself struggling to suppress my gag reflex. In the last third of the race, bananas were given out. Bananas are a great source of potassium but a terrible source of traction, so we had to avoid stepping on the dropped bananas and peels. Most of the runners around me walked through later hydration stations to both avoid falling and rest a little. Around mile 18 the Power Gel Company passed out gel packets in all flavors. I found chocolate to be the least offensive. I think I can safely predict that gel packs will not become a popular snack food. Once while squeezing a gel pack into my mouth I ineptly got some on my fingers. I hate sticky fingers. Although licking my fingers may have been entertaining to the runners around me, it was completely ineffective. Fortunately the water at the next hydration station resolved my sticky finger crisis.

After passing through later hydration stations, it became more challenging to lift my feet. The sound of runners’ shoes quietly thumping the road changed to a louder ripping sound. Our shoes had acquired the adhesion of fly paper as the spilled slime of the hydration station started to dry on our soles and on the pavement. My legs felt heavy enough without the increased effort needed to separate my shoes from the road.

My training book recommended that during training and actually running the race that one should frequently visualize how wonderful it would feel to cross the finish line. I, however, proved a miserable failure with this motivational technique. I expected to be so slow that all that I could visualize was being chased across the finish by a City of Chicago street sweeper long after everyone else had finished.

Running the marathon with Jim and his daughter Amanda proved very helpful. She kept a faster pace than I could have maintained alone and his prior knowledge of the race kept me out of trouble. Driving the course the day before made the route more familiar. At the hydration stations the previous year, there had been large pieces of cardboard with a clear gel-like substance on them. Jim thought it was some kind of a power gel and faithfully scooped up a mouthful with his fingers whenever it was offered. Later in that race, the cardboard slabs were clearly labeled “Vaseline”. This year there was no Vaseline available and we wondered if that was because of Jim last year. He proved it is possible to finish a marathon eating Vaseline which on the containers state “for external use only”.

Confidentiality is a completely foreign concept to the Chicago Marathon. The web site www.chicagomarathon.com has a searchable data base for each Chicago Marathon since 1997. Searching the 2005 results for Aurora residents shows the names of all 185 who registered. 142 finished the marathon, 7 ran ? marathons and 118 were faster than me. The youngest finisher from Aurora was 17 and I was the oldest at 58. Using the bib number of any runner from the web site, pictures of the runner can be found at www.marathonfoto.com. You should not expect any privacy even if you run this race dressed as Kermit the Frog, although your picture will be of you dressed as Kermit the Frog. You will not find a picture of me running in this magazine but I cannot prevent you accessing it on line. Two days after the marathon a patient of mine who works for the Aurora Police Department congratulated me on completing the marathon. I asked how she knew that I had run and she said that the department checks many sources of information. That led me to wonder if all Aurora registrants, who were not arrested the day after the marathon, can rest assured that they have no outstanding arrest warrants. A marathon finishing photo would make an interesting “wanted poster”.

Months after the race, I was sent a race summary magazine. 40,000 runners registered paying their $90 and 34,128 (85%) survived their training and crossed the start line. 33,297 finished which was amazingly 97.5% of those that started and there were no fatalities. There were 801 runners in my 55-59 male age group that finished with me being 640th at 5:19:02.

In the last 2 miles there were more people walking than running but my running was not much faster than their walking. Only a few spectators were on these blocks watching the race. On turning into Grant Park and the finish line there were a million people collecting their friends and family. After crossing the finish line the same second as Barbara from Chicago, Tracy from Barrington and Brett from Kansas; I was given a Mylar wrap to keep warm, a finishing metal, a half glass of Michelob Ultra and half a bagel. The Gator Aid display was out of Gator Aid. The Power Bar display was out of Power Bars. But it did not matter, because I was delighted to have simply finished.

top of page