Picking the right race to run in Illinois had been a challenge, hence the reason it didn’t get selected until state #29.   It was hard to know whether we should go for the big city dynamic, or choose a more rural setting in the countryside.   ChiTown popped as a race that would give us a little taste of both since the route ran along Lake Michigan with beautiful views of both the water and downtown Chicago.    And a huge benefit was easy travel;  one nonstop flight and a short drive to our lodgings.   After North Carolina and Alabama, we were ready for easier travel, so we signed up.

Melodie, Kathy and I were the crew again for this one.   We boarded flights in Phoenix and Oakland at 6:00 am and landed in Chicago around noon.   So simple.  After a “brief” debate between Uber, public transportation, or a rental car, we decided to rent a car.  Playing into that decision were frigid cold temperatures and the fact that Melodie had been sick and we didn’t think standing in line for buses or Uber cars would enhance our health.    And besides, with Kathy as our fearless driver and Melodie as the “no fail” navigator, the negatives for driving in Chicago traffic were minimized.

Packet pickup was only available on Thursday even though the race was Saturday, so the first thing on our agenda was to stop at Road Runner and pick up our packets.   By this point, our stomachs were growling, so lunch was next.   Chicago is known for being a foodie town, and our first experience did not disappoint.   We selected an Italian pizza restaurant called Spacco Napoli which offered authentic and amazing bread, cheese, pizza and coffee.   Not sure about healthy, but happy was not in question.

Hotels in Chicago are prohibitively expensive, particularly in the neighborhood where the race was staged, so we decided to try AirBnB instead.  Melodie found a home that met our budget and location needs, with the only caveat being we would share living spaces with our host and another couple.  We arrived at the home around 3:30, managed to snare a parking spot and followed the instructions to enter the home.   We had been warned there were three flights of stairs, but hey, we’re runners, right?   No big deal.

Well, in reality, accessing the third level of the home meant climbing 9 sections of stairs, loaded with suitcases, computer bags, running packets, and the rest of our lunch.   By the time we reached the top floor, you could have heard us breathing a mile away.    And alas, the door was not marked XXL as we had been informed, but simply had the number 3 on it.   Shoes were in front of the door and it didn’t feel right.   We looked at each other glumly and concluded we were in the wrong place.   We picked up all our bags and descended the stairway of horrors, going down being only slightly more enjoyable than going up.   We read through all the instructions once again and decided it had to be the right spot, there was no other option.   So this time, Melodie climbed the stairs sans bags, tried the key in the door, and voila, it opened.  And yes.  We got to haul all that luggage up those stairs once more.  We dug for our Pollyanna personalities and decided it was a good warmup for the race.

But the story of the Chicago AirBnB was not over.   It quickly became apparent that the state of the apartment was alarmingly below our cleanliness standards.   We considered abandoning the place and finding a hotel, but our practical natures warred against this option.   So instead, we took to cleaning.   Melodie scrubbed the bathroom from top to bottom using whatever cleaning supplies she could find, I cleaned the kitchen so we could at least use it, and Kathy vacuumed the bedroom and swept the floors.   Once all that was done, it really wasn’t a bad place, and overall we were comfortable, but it wasn’t an auspicious start.   We contacted the host who was very embarrassed and made it right by giving us a nice credit for our cleaning services.

For dinner that evening, we walked to a local watering hole called “The Reservoir”.   Thank goodness there were three of us as I’m not sure I would have been comfortable walking those narrow streets alone.   The food was amazing, but the noise level was somewhat akin to a football game.    We comforted ourselves with the notion that we were experiencing local flavor and enjoyed the food with ringing ears.  Conversation was not an option.

Although we’ve connected at Chicago Midway Airport many times on our trips, none of us had ever been in downtown Chicago or driven through the urban neighborhoods.   The architecture of the buildings was fascinating and unique.   I’m guessing many of the buildings in this area were over a hundred years old.  It’s hard to believe people still live in them, but they do, as evidenced by the many cars vying for a spot to park.  These pictures are the buildings right across the street from our AirBnB.   The mix of old and new seems to be classic Chicago.

We came to Chicago prepared for temperatures far below normal, and this held true.    For most of our visit, the temperature did not even creep above freezing and when you add wind and snow flurries, you have an environment where sight-seeing is not your first choice.  Nevertheless, we were determined to at least make an effort.   After reviewing our options, we decided to visit Navy Pier.   This 3,300 foot long pier on the  shoreline of Lake Michigan is a classic Chicago landmark and is billed as the top attraction in the area, attracting 9.3 million visitors a year.   We were reassured by the fact that there were both indoor and outdoor attractions in the event we couldn’t handle the cold.

It was truly an amazing place, despite the weather.   Our first stop was the Crystal Gardens, a beautiful indoor, one-acre botanical garden.  This six‐story glass atrium with a 50-foot arched ceiling holds over 80 live palm trees, lush foliage, hanging twinkle lights and dancing leapfrog fountains.

Next, we headed over to an outdoor exhibit called Prismatica, an interactive art installation of 25 pivoting prisms more than 6 feet tall.   Guests are allowed to wander among and manipulate the prisms for an infinite interplay of lights and color.

As our fingers started to reach the frozen stage, we made a quick visit to a couple of the outdoor sculptures that decorate the pier.    I did not realize that “Crack the Whip” existed outside of our childhood games.

We considered taking a spin on the 200 ft. Centennial Wheel or signing up for one of the cruises touring Lake Michigan, but the daunting cold won out, and we settled for taking pictures instead.

Our last stop was the Harry Caray Tavern where we stopped for lunch.  The walls and display cases were filled with pictures and jerseys from famous Chicago sports icons, including pictures of the much-loved announcer for the Chicago Cubs, Harry Caray.   We hung out for a while, enjoying the ambience and the much appreciated warmth.

We filled the rest of the day with a little shopping and a fun movie called “Finding Your Feet”.   We chose not to brave the elements by eating out again that night and had a simple meal in our little home away from home, which was by now spotlessly clean.  We tried to quit watching the weather forecast, but it drew us like a bad candy addiction. We kept checking it in hopes it would change.   The story stayed the same.  The temperature was forecast to be 21 at 7:00 am tomorrow, with winds to make it feel like 11.

We got up at 5:30 the next morning, grabbed a bite to eat, and worked on convincing ourselves that we would be ok.   These pictures tell our mood better than words.

We did not manage to snare a parking spot the night before, so had parked in a paid parking lot about a quarter mile away.   As we walked to the car, the frigid wind whistled around our ears, and stung our faces.    Somehow, I managed to drop my beanie twice; the first time a kind stranger honked and pointed it out, and the second time we were in the car and halfway to the park when I realized I didn’t have it.   Running in these conditions without a hat was not happening, so I jumped out of the car, ran back to the parking lot, and found my hat.   However, what I did not find again until the end of the race were my sisters.  Hence, no pre-race pictures with the three of us, but we make do with what we’ve got – selfies, wrinkles, hats and all.

The race start was delayed by 25 minutes because the volunteers that set up and man the aid stations were stuck in traffic.   By the time the starting gong finally went off, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to run.   However, once you start moving, habit and years of running take over, and you just put one foot in front of the other and go down the road.

My hands were too cold for much of the race to take pictures, but Melodie, as always, managed to capture some great shots of the course.    Despite the cold, it was a beautiful morning with clear, blue skies and the views were spectacular.

And then it was over.     All three of us had a good run.   Perhaps freezing to death prior to running increases one’s capability, or desire, to move quickly.   We grabbed a few finish photos and hurried back to the car and warmth.

We stayed in our room for a few hours to warm up before we could face going out again for a celebratory lunch.   We chose an Irish pub called The Northman for some delectable fish and chips, then headed across the street to top it off with something sweet.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing and planning our 2019 running calendar.    Pretty crazy, but after a race is always when the ideas fly the fastest.

We got up the next morning, checked out of our AirBnB, and headed to a local coffee shop for one more taste of Chicago.    It was a fun little spot and obviously set up for people to just come and hang out all day.   The coffee was delicious, and the food simple, but tasty.   It was a good note on which to end the trip.

As we headed back to the airport, we reflected on the things we would remember about our visit to Chicago.   Top of the list were the penetratingly cold temperatures and the biting winds, but we would also remember the incredible architecture, delicious food, friendly strangers, and our fellow Chicago drivers.  Never had we been in a city where people honked so much.   They honked to tell you your trunk was open, or you dropped your beanie, or because they didn’t think you should be in the street at just that moment, or because you took too long to move.   Didn’t really matter what the reason, the universal language of the Chicagoan seems to be a honking horn.    After a while, you don’t take it personally, you just honk back.

Goodbye, Chicago.   Glad we chose you for state #29, and even more grateful that we can go home.

Next up, Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia with all 5 of the sisters!   And it should be warm.  We’re claiming it.