I'm exhausted today, and I didn't even run a marathon. My husband did, though, quite literally. Sunday was the Chicago Marathon which he's been training for since March or April (feels like forever). It turned out to be a crazy, crazy weekend.
We drove up on Friday, leaving later and taking longer than we anticipated. My mom and baby sister also drove up to Chicago from Indy, and were planning to stay at my older sister's place in the city. Since her condo is home to 3 cats and no babies, we decided for everyone's safety that it would not be a good place to house a toddler for the weekend. That hypothesis was proved out Friday night when we arrived in time for dinner with my family. Within half an hour of arriving, my daughter had managed to terrify and/or enrage two of the 3 resident felines, depending on your point of view. She tried petting one that was sleeping, who promptly reproached her rudeness with a nip. That set off terrified toddler screaming, which egged another cat into attacking both the previously-napping kitty and me (why?), and generally racing around the room upset. We instead spent the night with the parents of some friends, who had a basically child-friendly space.
Saturday morning Charlotte got to play with our friends' son Oliver while we managed to not join my mom and sisters as early as we planned for a little sightseeing. My husband opted out of walking around the city on the eve of his big run, so Charlotte and I got to ride the El downtown alone. That part didn't really bother me, since I'd spent some time there for a previous employer, and was comfortable reading the maps and negotiating the various stops. Adding in a stroller was more of a challenge, but generally I found elevators and escalators when I needed them. We spent the afternoon at the Shedd Aquarium, along with seemingly half of the city.
Sometime towards the end of the afternoon I realized that 1) Our car was parked at our hotel for the evening, containg all of our luggage 2) My husband was not staying in the hotel, preferring to sleep a little closer to the starting line with friends who would be heading to Grant Park at an insanely earlyhour, 3) My husband had the only key to the car that contained all of our luggage, and 4) it is nearly impossible to unload and transport various suitcases from a parking garage into a hotel by myself, with Charlotte. That prompted a confusing effort where my husband met me at the platform of one of the subway stops to hand off the key before heading out to his rest stop, and my Mom and sisters came to the hotel to help me check in and heft the luggage to the room. That was not our best planning.
Sunday morning, Charlotte and I tried to head downtown to watch some of the great run. We arrived at the 12 mile marker much later than I anticipated, since half of Chicago was taking the same train. We missed my husband completely, but found my older sister and her boyfriend, whose sister was also running. After a nice warm-up at Starbucks (Decaf Soy Caramel Mocha with Whip...sound confusing? pretty much matched the tone of the day), we headed to the 25 mile marker to watch for runners. We probably missed my husband by 10-15 minutes, but did manage to spot another friend who was running, and my sister's boyfriend's sister. We attempted to meet up at the finish line, but a small group of people including a pregnant woman with a stroller just don't walk the last 1.2 miles that fast, and my husband ended up taking off for the hotel before I could say hi.
Charlotte and I did finally see my husband again after taking the train back, much to her delight. She had been confused the night before about where he was, and upset during the race when we would walk away from the runners ("No, more daddy!"). The rest of the evening was more peaceful--a snack at Panera and dinner at a Wolfgang Puck restaurant near the hotel. Monday we took a dip in the pool and hottub before packing the car (yes, I was a bad pregnant mommy and sat in an actual hottub for a while...I got out when I got warm though, so I doubt the babe's been boiled too badly). After lunch with my older sister, we drove home.
Oh yeah, I got stopped for speeding. I only got a warning, though, probably because I've never ever had a ticket in my life. I was following a long line of traffic at probably 7-8 miles over the limit, and the cop was in an unmarked car. I guess it was just my lucky day.