Sarah
and I are more or less in agreement that if we don't continually sign
up for races, we'll have no motivation at all and probably never run
again. That fact combined with my intense love of glow sticks led to us
thinking it would be a great idea to sign up for a sketchy night race
called the "Glo Run" a couple weeks ago. Naturally, things did not go as
planned.
Now, most reputable races in Chicago are organized by either running associations or a big sponsor (like Bank of America). The first tip off that something was amiss should have been that we had never heard of All Community Events, which organized this race. But we were too caught up in the promises of "glow swag" and an on-course DJ to be seriously worried. Excitement was in the air as we sat on the Great Lawn in Millennium Park, listening to classical music and outfitting ourselves in neon shirts, glow stick jewelry, glow-in-the-dark painted headbands, and (in Sarah's case) a glow stick laced tutu. In fact, we may have gotten a little too excited, and by the time we got to the start line in Grant Park, we desperately needed the facilities. Except, wait... there were no toilets anywhere. ANYWHERE. Races are one of the only times I'll gladly use a port-o-potty, and I would have given anything for one at that moment. But apparently even that was too much to ask. Whatever, it was time to leave our unbelievably tolerant & supportive friends Ahn and Earl, who had gladly accompanied us on the expedition. We headed, bladders unrelieved but glow sticks illuminated, to the Start Line. And this was the point at which they herded all 3000 of us across Lake Shore Drive (which had not been closed) and down into the underpass beneath the road. We then proceeded to wait in the suffocating cavern for about 30 minutes. It happened to be about 90 degrees (32ish celcius?) even at 9:00pm.
Now, most reputable races in Chicago are organized by either running associations or a big sponsor (like Bank of America). The first tip off that something was amiss should have been that we had never heard of All Community Events, which organized this race. But we were too caught up in the promises of "glow swag" and an on-course DJ to be seriously worried. Excitement was in the air as we sat on the Great Lawn in Millennium Park, listening to classical music and outfitting ourselves in neon shirts, glow stick jewelry, glow-in-the-dark painted headbands, and (in Sarah's case) a glow stick laced tutu. In fact, we may have gotten a little too excited, and by the time we got to the start line in Grant Park, we desperately needed the facilities. Except, wait... there were no toilets anywhere. ANYWHERE. Races are one of the only times I'll gladly use a port-o-potty, and I would have given anything for one at that moment. But apparently even that was too much to ask. Whatever, it was time to leave our unbelievably tolerant & supportive friends Ahn and Earl, who had gladly accompanied us on the expedition. We headed, bladders unrelieved but glow sticks illuminated, to the Start Line. And this was the point at which they herded all 3000 of us across Lake Shore Drive (which had not been closed) and down into the underpass beneath the road. We then proceeded to wait in the suffocating cavern for about 30 minutes. It happened to be about 90 degrees (32ish celcius?) even at 9:00pm.
This was kind of how we felt about the whole thing.
As
we inched toward the start line we realized the holdup: the start gate
was only wide enough for about 1.5 people to get through at a time
(maybe two, if they were really skinny). The only thing we could figure
was that since the race was along a narrow-ish bike path maybe they were
staggering the start so that we didn't all get jammed up along the
route. Either way, it was a little ridiculous. And very warm. Once the
race actually started, it wasn't so terrible. In fact, the whole
experience was fun in a disastrous kind of way. It was a lot of little
strange things that make us think that was a one-time race for us. Some
of them include:
 |
| The start line: one at a time please! |
- It was 6k. 5k is normal, 10k is normal, even 8k is pretty common. 6k, however, makes no sense. But with nothing to compare it to, it was an automatic personal best time!
- The "on course DJ" was a set of shoddy speakers with an iPod. Good.
- As I said, it was HOT. In a normal (legit) race, there would be warnings about the heat. We never heard a word from the announcer. They also ran out of water at the finish line. It's the middle of summer in Chicago; let's plan for the possibility of it being warm.
- Along the same line, there was some pretty significant lightning that was also not mentioned. I believe the race announcers comment was "better run fast!" Ugh.
- The course was poorly lit, poorly marked, and they made me run up stairs. Not cool, bro.
- Can you say $40? That's what it cost, per person, to register. Maybe for a good cause, but maybe not. And I have a feeling we'll never actually know.
Even the weirdest runs have a view like this. So we're going to stop complaining now.
So
that's the story, and I hope there were enough pictures to keep you
moderately entertained. For all we complain, it was still a lot of fun
and could have been way worse. Really, we're pretty lucky to be able to
do ridiculous things like this.
Thanks again for having nothing better
to do with your life than read our blog! Less whiny posts are coming
soon! And now, let me leave you with this:
Classing it up at the Grant Park Music Festival before the race
