Spring in Chicago: Isn’t life grand? The birds are chirping; it’s not dark when I leave the gym at 6:30pm; I put away the "big coat" and broke out the red trench I love oh-so-much... At this point we should only have one, maybe twelve, more days of subfreezing temperatures.
Oh Chicago... you’re such a tease.
From March it's a straight shot to April, then Memorial Day, at which time the temperature will catapult from balmy 45 to unbearable 90 degrees and humid. That’s way it works here. We gave it a fancy name: lake effect... or global warming. One of those.
The thought of heat gets me thinking. It gets me thinking about drinking (I love that I just rhymed right there, it was... liberating) on patios, on Fridays, after work, at a little thing I like to call Happy Hour. Maybe you’ve heard of it?
Not so fast compadres. Before you log onto www.Southwest.com and reserve your ticket to a sun and fun summer Chicago retreat at Casa de Lou where every hour is Happy Hour, there’s one last decision that needs to be made...
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
Do I want to train for the Chicago Distance Classic?
There. I said it.
Yes, it’s true—the warm-ish weather evokes images of Lake Michigan and the path that curves its way around the shore, the skyline of the city glistening in the early morning sunlight… serene… Then there’s the hundreds of people—runners, bikers, rollerbladers, dogs (dogs aren’t people)—the occasional biker/runner collision and the random use of profanity inspired by a close call; the sun beating down on you, and the lake, and then reflecting off the lake back on to you; and lest we not forget the over-heating, dehydration, blood, blisters, swelling, stomach cramps, general pain…
Sign me up.
So, I’m thinking about it. And I’ll keep you posted.
In the meantime... Sunday is the official start of the Chicago running season with the Shamrock Shuffle. Five miles of nothing but love. Nothing but love my friends.