Last weekend, Wes, Ollie, Lucy, and I headed out to Michigan Avenue around 9am to watch the frontrunners in the (now) Bank of America (formerly LaSalle Bank before BOA bought it out) Chicago Marathon. This has become something of a tradition in our family since moving to Chicago. At our old apartment, we went to watched on LaSalle, just a few miles into the race. We could then go home after an hour or so and watch the end on television. At our new apartment, we see the runners in the last mile of the race, just before the turn back into Grant Park. Here there's no way to get back to a television in time to see the end, so we were glad the race had a clear leader by the time the runners passed by here. The top racers were spaced out by a minute or so before any kind of pack came by.The men's winner (and six others in the top ten) was, predictably, from Kenya. These men are so thin and long, if not always terribly tall. It's awesome to see how fast they're still running at the end of 26 plus miles. This year the men went out pretty fast despite (for Chicago and a marathon in October) warm temps. Fortunately the city, still in a bid for the 2016 Summer Olympics, did not see a repeat last year's catastrophe.
I still don't know if I'd ever want to run a marathon. Right now the prospect of running three or four miles seems daunting after months of, if not inactivity, a lack of regular exercise. Wes has been running longer and longer distances and has said he might think about doing one next year. If so, the three of us will be
happy to watch from the sidelines and cheer on dear old dad. 
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