“SURPRISE!!!...You are doing 8 miles with me in downtown tomorrow morning, right?”

A couple of months ago I had the age old conversation with one of my most amazing male friends “When are you coming to Chicago?” and I respond with something like “When would you like me to come? I have a trip to NY this weekend, something planned the next weekend and oh no, I can’t do that weekend either”. He will then follow that up with well we have family in town for this month and I am in this and this country this and this week. In the Indian culture family visits for MONTH… I can barely maintain a 5 min facebook conversation with my family… these people don’t leave for a month. Well low and behold we once again engage in such conversation and he suggests Oct 21^st. I, panic stricken, say to him “That is the weekend before MCM. Am I complete ass for not wanting to fly before my first marathon?” He says “It’s her birthday and I want to surprise her” I say “Done! I am flying to Chicago on the 21^st”.

So after many ignored IM’s, emails from his wonderful wife (I was so terrified my big mouth would have a case of verbal diarrhea) we were successful at getting me to O’Hare undetected. Little tidbit I suck at keeping my mouth shut…no really I do.

"Surprise"

After all the screaming and excitement subsided, the first thing out of this running addicts mouth was “You are doing 8 miles with me in downtown tomorrow morning, right?” Another tidbit… addicts stand alone in their world of madness, alone I tell you, alone.  

So with no alarm clock and no running group to hold me accountable I was still able to get myself up and dressed for the 8 miles. My wonderful girlfriend (not an addict) was awake and very chatty while I was getting ready. Chatty girlfriend sounds a little like this”

“Are you taking your cell phone?”

“no”

“what if you get lost?”

“I will find my way back”

“you going like that?”

“yes”

“you need a jacket, it’s cold”

“I will be running, I’ll be fine”

“Do you know what route you are doing?”

“Going out of your building and going to start running sounds like a good route”

This is where it gets funny

“No! You need to turn right and then left to the elevator, take the elevator down and turn right again, then left into the lobby. When you are out of the building just run straight down Monroe to the water. You must stay on Monroe and along the water” 

Yes her directions involved lefts and rights to getting out of the building… anyone else see the humor in this Mother Hen? One of the main reasons I love her so incredibly much. So after much discussion she is somewhat reassured that I will be fine, however does have a search party on standby hiding in the coat closet just in case.

It was a good discussion because it reminded me that I had not yet told her my post MCM plans that meant things like street signs would be replaced with painted patches on tree trunks,

 “along the water” would be replaced with single track trails miles away from civilization 

 and “left into the lobby” would be replaced with a small 5x8 tent that might have water, might not.

Out the lobby (thanks to her directions) and I am off to do my last long run before the big day. This is where it is blatantly clear I am one sick puppy. Downtown Chicago in the middle of October is not downtown DC in the middle of October. In my ‘barely there’ hot pink running shorts and crisp white shirt I went blazing past every black cloaked local accessorized with hat, scarf and (not or) gloves huddled on the streets corners. Based on the heads I was turning I think I was clearly under dressed for the local folks. 

Sadly in my stubborn attempt to prove to the Mother Hen I didn’t need a phone I did not have a way to take pictures of my amazing, beautiful, exhilarating 12 mile run in downtown Chi-town.

Thank you World Wide Web for this picture

Two more tidbits… I can be THAT annoying Type-A overachiever that makes others want to punch me and I suck at tapering.

Upon return I was blessed with a breakfast only a runner could truly appreciate. This breakfast goes by the name “Breakfast Casserole”. This potatoy, eggy, sausagey, cheesy, loved filled casserole pretty much made my life the most incredible thing ever.

 Breakfast casserole

So with only days to Marine Corp Marathon I can say I am ready and getting excited.

Who is your Mother Hen? And what amazing things do you inhale after a long run?