Today I was supposed to run the Chicago Marathon. It was going to be my first trip to Chicago and my third World Major Marathon. I was so excited to explore the city, and attempt a Boston Marathon Qualifying time on a flat course, and experience the sheer joy of being surrounded by 40000 other running geeks.
By May, the marathon organizers still hadn’t canceled, but it was seeming less and less likely that the event would go forward. So I decided I would run the marathon distance in loops around the paved path behind my house, and still go for the BQ time goal.
By June, the marathon organizers still hadn’t canceled and now I had a lingering hip issue, so I decided I would run the distance in loops around the paved path behind my house, for fun and not for time, and raise funds for a cause dear to my heart.
By August, the marathon organizers had canceled the event and I could barely run and was starting physical therapy.
By September, I had given up trying to plan a virtual event to commemorate race day. The staggering numbers of people affected by COVID in this country alone (214000 deaths and nearly 8 million infected and countless lives changed forever) weigh heavy on my thoughts. And so today, on what would have been race day, I chose a quiet trail and ran with gratitude for the ability to run at all, with a fervent appreciation for the lungs that sustain my effort, with every step a prayer that our country and our world find a way out of this pandemic. The marathon will be rescheduled and I will fundraise. But today, today was for quiet reflection and holding my loved ones close.
