Chicago Spring Half Marathon: Race Recap

Out on course. Still moving. 🌿

I went into the Chicago Spring Half Marathon with a goal of sub 2:20. I finished in 2:20:16. On paper that looks like a miss, but on the warmest, muggiest, most brutally difficult race day I have ever experienced — a day where people were being carted off the course around me — that 2:20 feels like the biggest win of my running life so far.

Race morning started at 3 AM

You read that right. The alarm went off at 3 AM. We had to get ready, drive into the city, find parking, and be in our corrals by 6:30. It was still dark outside when I was pinning my bib on. There is something both surreal and exciting about getting ready for a race before the sun comes up. It makes the whole thing feel bigger, more real, more earned.

Getting into the city and settled went smoothly. Standing in the corral watching thousands of people fill in around me, I was reminded very quickly that this was not like anything I had raced before. Wave starts, massive crowds, the energy of a real big-city race. I have done smaller local races where you can see the whole field from the start line. This was not that. This was something else entirely.

Race day kit, laid out the night before. 🩷

The plan, and what actually happened

My original strategy was to go out slower than I needed to and build into the race as it progressed, negative splitting my way to a sub 2:20. A smart plan in theory. But when the race started and I spotted the 2:20 pacer, the adrenaline took over and I tried to stay with them instead. That lasted for a little while before I realized their pace was not going to be sustainable for me in those conditions. I let them go, settled into my own rhythm, and stopped racing the pacer entirely.

The heat was unlike anything I have experienced in a race

I cannot overstate how difficult the conditions were. By race time the temperature was already climbing toward 84 degrees with 95% humidity. It was the warmest day of the year, unseasonably hot, and the kind of muggy where the air just feels thick. It was brutal for everyone on that course.

People were struggling in a way I have never witnessed at a race before. Runners around me were walking, sitting on the side of the trail, or being loaded into carts because they were overheating. Medical staff were everywhere. There were moments out there where I looked around and thought, this is genuinely hard for everybody, not just me.

I stopped at every single water station. Not to walk, just to grab Gatorade and keep moving. I had my Huma gels with electrolytes, I was taking SaltStick chews, I had my sunglasses on and had loaded up on sunscreen before the start. I did everything right. And still there were so many miles where I just wanted to stop.

The course — hills, hills, and more hills

I knew going in that this course had elevation. I did not fully appreciate what that meant until I was on it. The hills were constant. Not just a couple of climbs you power through and then recover on, they were woven through the entire course, relentless, showing up just when you thought you had earned some flat ground.

And then, right before the finish, when your legs have 12 miles on them and you can practically hear the finish line, there was one final massive hill. I remember rounding a corner and seeing it and genuinely thinking you have to be kidding me. I climbed it anyway despite barely being able to lift my legs.

Running by the lake. One of the prettier stretches of the course. 🌊

How my body held up

I went into race day with some real concerns. The calf that had been bothering me all through taper week, the knees and quads that have been my ongoing project all training cycle, and the fact that I had taken Tylenol and used half a stick of Biofreeze before the start just to make sure I could get through the first miles comfortably. Not exactly the carefree race morning I had pictured.

The calf pain was there for the first five or six miles. And then somewhere around mile six, the heat got so demanding that I genuinely forgot about it. My entire focus shifted to surviving the conditions, managing my effort, and staying hydrated. The knees and quads, which I honestly expected to be the problem , were actually fine. Whether that was the Tylenol, the Biofreeze, the training, or some combination of all three, I will take it.

I wore my Nova Blast 5s. The same pair that had been giving me grief all through taper week. They showed up on race day.

The finish line

I turned that final corner after the last hill and I ran. Whatever was left in my legs, I used it. The finish line comes into view and suddenly none of the heat, none of the hills, none of the moments where I wanted to stop matters anymore. You just go.

Crossing the finish line. 2:20:16. 🏅

2:20:16. A seven minute PR from the Purdue Half. On the hardest course I have ever run, on the hottest race day of the year, in conditions that sent people to the medical tent. I stood there after and just felt it for a minute. All of it — the early mornings, the taper week chaos, the calf situation, the 3 AM alarm. It was worth every single bit of it.

The medal and the flowers

I fought for this medal. That is the only way I know how to describe it. Most races give you a finisher medal but this one felt different because I know what it cost to get there. The training cycle that felt like it lasted years. The heat. The hills. The moments I almost stopped and did not.

The medal I earned, and the flower we got to plant after. 🌸

After the finish, the race had flowers set up for finishers to plant as part of the spring theme. You pick a flower and pot it to take home. It was such a small thing, but standing there post-race, planting something after all of that, felt like a really fitting way to end the day.

What I would do differently

Honestly, not much about the race day itself. I think I managed the conditions about as well as I could have. But the pacing strategy at the start is worth revisiting. My original plan of going out slow and building was the right one, and I abandoned it the moment I saw the pacer. Next time I need to trust the plan I came in with, especially in heat like that where banking effort early matters so much more.

The sub 2:20 is still out there. And I am going to get it.