Race Date: Sunday 12th October 2025

“Rest Day Recommended”.… That was the message that greeted me on my Garmin 255 watch on the morning of the Chicago Marathon after yet another sleepless night; my Garmin 255 probably did this as a result of walking almost 30,000 steps the day before, and the fact that I had only limited sleep over the previous two nights due to a combination of nervousness, anxiety, excitement and an uncomfortable pillow that was far too high for my liking. It had been two years since my last marathon, which was Loch Ness on October 1st 2023, and with the time I achieved there (3:09:40), this allowed me to gain a good-for-age place at this year’s Chicago Marathon. Knowing how hard I had to work to obtain the Loch Ness time, I didn’t want it to go to waste, and Chicago was booked. The difference between this and the other three marathons I’ve run, was this time my two sons (Reuben 16 & Fin 22) would be accompanying me over the pond to give me some support (this then more than doubled the cost of the trip)!

So, with the marathon booked, flights booked, AirBnB booked, restaurants booked, everything was in place for the race weekend with months to go. Now for the hard bit…TRAINING!

Because I see the holy grail of running to achieve a sub 3:00 marathon, and with the Loch Ness time being within 10 mins of this target, the thought crossed my mind that a sub 3:00 may be possible. After Googling “what it takes to attempt a sub 3:00 marathon”, Google came back and said you should be able to run a 10K in 38:00 mins and a half marathon in 1:25:00. My best half was this year at Newark and was 1:26: something, and I had run a few 10Ks in 39:00… close, but not quite on the money! I knew I wasn’t quite where Google said I should be, but then again, why should you trust Google? Will the search engine result stop me pursuing my dream?

I decided to download the runner’s world sub-3:00 training plan and go from there – 12 weeks out, I made a start to the training. I’ve always tried to run at least 22-25miles a week, although any intervals and hill reps have always been neglected; I simply don’t like doing them and they make me anxious all day when I know I’ve got to do some later in the evening. As I started to work through the weeks of training, I noticed my mileage plateaued at around 40 miles a week – this was simply down to family life and the time I could spend out on my own training. The training usually consisted of any 4 days in the week, and usually within this there would be a late run back from football training on a Monday night or a few early 5:00am alarm calls on a Sunday to get a 20 miler in before I took my daughter over to the junior park run at Graves Park. What I also found myself doing was half-hearted sessions in which I would only do 80% of what was being asked: if the session called for 16 miles and the middle 8 miles at marathon pace, I’d do it all 30 seconds above marathon pace, or if the session was 10 off 2 min hill reps, I’d only do 8 off. I was skimping on the hard miles and I knew it!

After 10 weeks of ‘skimping’ and not fulfilling the training requirement, the sub 3:00 was a pipe dream; it was only when I ran the Sheffield 10k (including the ‘new’ hilly bit) that I got a PB of 39:18! I said to myself “if I can get this time on a hilly Sheffield 10k, then on a flat 10K course it may be somewhere near the 38mins that Google said I needed to be at, a sub 3:00 hr marathon may just be possible”. It was with this thought in my mind that I saw out the last 2 weeks training and tapered accordingly…nearly following the training plan for once.

The flights I had booked were direct from Heathrow, which meant setting off from Sheffield at 3:00am with Fin and Reu as my sleeping co-pilots for almost the entire journey into London. Car parked about 5 miles away from the actual airport in one of the satellite car parks, we got into a chauffeured minibus with a group of ladies also heading to the airport for a drinking weekend in Dublin. After dropping these off at Terminal 1, our driver set off to drop us at our terminal; we got chatting and he picked up on the accent straight away – it turned out he came from Rotherham and went to Oakwood comprehensive in his early years! After slagging off the school, saying how great London was and how much he was earning a year (we’re talking well over £150,000 for a taxi driver!!), he bid us farewell and dropped us at Terminal 3.

Just as I shut the door, my phone pinged with a notification from American Airlines to say our flight was delayed by 3:00 hrs…. Damn! …. Another 50 yards walked and another ping…. The flight had been delayed by a further 1hrs 40 mins! At this rate, we would miss out on an entire day of our 3-day trip; understandably, we thought this was turning out to be a potential nightmare.

We had no hold luggage to check in, hand baggage only to keep the cost down. So, it was through security and through the duty-free area to find some seats for the long wait. It was then that I started looking at other flights to O’Hare Airport, wondering if I could claw back some of the time lost with the delay, and located a flight leaving from Heathrow 2.5 hrs before my delayed flight was due to take off. After eventually finding the American Airlines desk, the helpful lady did check, only to find there were no spaces available on said flight – in fact, there were no spaces on any of the flights leaving that day for Chicago. As a ‘gesture of goodwill’, she gave us each a £10 voucher for food due to the delay being over 4 hrs….. Next stop, the food hall to spend the voucher.

Fin, Reu and I all chose the same burger and fries from one of the vendors. After eating, we found 3 seats together and settled down for the 1:50pm departure (4hrs 40mins later than the original departure time).

Because I booked everything on a budget to keep the cost down, I left it to the seating gods to allocate our seats, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise to find we weren’t sitting together. During the flight, my 16 year-old took a turn for the worse. Although we all ate the same burger (which we all said at the time was delicious), it didn’t seem to agree with Reu and he started to feel nauseous as soon as he sat down – needless to say, during the 7.5hr flight, he was up and down continually being sick in the toilet…much to the annoyance of the gentlemen he was sat next to. Fin and I on the other hand had a pretty uneventful flight, playing the 2048 in-flight game which is very addictive, listening to music as well as a bit of catnapping. For us two, the flight went by pretty quickly; unfortunately, Reuben didn’t quite see it that way!

Eventually, we landed at O’Hare at 4:26pm (local time). No time to check in to the AirBnB, it was over on the Blue line to downtown Chicago for our evening meal. After around 35 minutes, we got off the Blue line at the Clark/Lake station and onto the streets of Chicago to find Trump International where I had booked our evening meal at Terrace 16. “WOW!” was my initial thought after exiting the station: the skyscrapers lit up at night was a sight to behold. I found myself continually looking up at the sky, eager to look around the next corner and marvel at the next building; I was awestruck and so were the boys. After a short walk along West Wacker Driver, over the North Wabash Avenue bridge, we arrived at Trump International, eyes wide and neck aching from trying to take everything in.

Now, whilst Donald Trump does polarise people’s opinions about him, I have to say one thing: he sure knows how to build a hotel and place it in such a prominent position along the Chicago River – the hotel looks magnificent. With hand luggage still in tow, we entered the lobby for the concierge to gratefully take our bags and direct the way to the elevator. At the 16th floor, we were ushered to our table bang smack in the middle of the room with stunning views….. The Americans sure do know how to look after you – I’ve always found their customer service second to none, and at the Trump hotel we found this in abundance. With Reu not feeling well (he was sick again twice in Trump’s bathroom) Fin and myself ate a wonderful meal and tossed Reu a token couple of fries…which he reluctantly tasted.

After the meal, we retreated outside to the terrace, and in front of an open gas fire, we continued to gaze in wonderment at the buildings that still towered above us – even though we were 16 floors up from the ground floor!

Chicago at night

After a sleepless night in the AirBnB and with Reu feeling slightly better, we boarded the Blue line again into the City; the journey was only 20 minutes this time due to the AirBnB being located half way between O’Hare and downtown Chicago. I’d booked breakfast at Cindy’s Rooftop, which I’d googled and found to be the #No1 rated rooftop dining experience in Chicago; it is located on the roof of the Chicago Athletic Association building, overlooking Grant Park and the ‘Bean’. Again, Chicago didn’t disappoint: the breakfast was fantastic and the “Pumpkin Monkey Bread” was a hit with everyone, including Reu, who was starting to come around a bit. The food, coupled with the view over Grant Park and beyond onto Lake Michigan put the experience right up there and was one of the highlights of the trip. After breakfast, we crossed the road and dodged the hundreds – no, thousands – of runners who were either on shake-out runs or simply walking around. Over to Grant Park to ‘touch the Bean’, or to give it its official name, Cloud Gate. For those who don’t know, it is a massive stainless steel polished sculpture that’s situated in Grant Park; it is an incredible piece of art and attracted all of the city’s runners like bees around a honey pot for that all-important souvenir photo.

Following the Bean, it was a short train journey down to the Expo to collect my race number – I’d almost forgot I was running a marathon in the morning! Now, call me naïve, but I didn’t realise until probably the week before flying out that the marathon started at 7:30am, and the guide recommends that you arrive at 5:30am…bearing in mind I was staying 7 miles out of town, I’d have to get up at 4:30am to have some breakfast and give me enough time to get the Blue line to Grant Park for the start!

The ‘Bean’

After spending a couple of hours in the Expo and buying a thermos mug, it was back into town for more sightseeing along the river. I’d booked an early dinner at a steak restaurant so that we would have enough time to spend the evening enjoying a Jazz Showcase in an intimate venue founded in 1947, where talented Jazz musicians continue to play their trade today. By habit, I ordered a bottle of beer from the waitress as we settled down on a sofa bang at the front of the venue; we were so close to the stage that Fin was worried he was going to get ‘spat’ on with the musicians playing so close. For the next 2 hours, we were treated to a masterclass in jazz music. My knowledge of Jazz is watching talented students play in the school band; as good as the students were (typically grade 8), the Pharez Whitted Quintet were on a totally different level…I’ve never witnessed anything like that before. The 5 guys didn’t have a sheet of music between them, but they played faultlessly; I can’t put into words how good they were. Not satisfied with one piano, the pianist played two simultaneously at one point during the show, and the drummer’s hand movements were so quick, it was mesmerising to watch. The performance ended with a standing ovation around 9:30pm – it was then the reality of why I was in Chicago dawned on me… I had a marathon to run in 10 hrs!!!!! I’d been enjoying myself that much, I’d temporarily forgotten about the race; I had downed 3 bottles of beer… I would never do that the night before a race, nevermind a world major marathon!!

It was with mild panic that we all boarded the Blue line back to Addison, picking up a pint of milk from a gas station to have with the two sachets of porridge I had brought with me from the UK as my pre-race breakfast. After laying out the gear for the following morning, I slipped under the duvet at 11:30pm; it was then whilst setting the watch alarm for 4:45am, I noticed I’d walked over 30,000 steps that day. I must have been nuts cramming in so much activity during the day, especially the day before a marathon, what was I thinking?

With my mind now racing, I started to think about the race. What pace d I go out at, what time is realistically achievable, do I feel okay? And this, believe me, was a dilemma! I boiled it down to sub 3:00 or not sub-3:00, 6:50mins/mile or 7:00mins/mile. I knew I hadn’t really given my all in training following a sub 3:00 training plan, and according to Google, I hadn’t hit my 10K or half marathon times that would suggest I was capable of a sub 3:00hr marathon. BUT… I wasn’t far off these targets, I was running on probably the flattest marathon course in the world, the weather looked like it was going to be perfect tomorrow, I won’t get many more opportunities in my life to go for this. BUT… I also want to finish and not hit the wall, a transatlantic flight, the expense, my boys watching, and everything else to go with it, a DNF is unthinkable! “WHAT DO I DO”?? My stomach was in knots, I hadn’t felt this way since being hauled into the headmaster’s office for throwing a bag of flour at the school bus almost 40 years ago. This dilemma kept me up all night; along with checking in for the flights home at 3:00am, the dodgy pillow meant I got less than an hour’s sleep.

I decided to get out of bed at 3:45am and was eating porridge at 4:00am. My Garmin 255 watch told me what I already knew: ‘Poor Night’s Sleep’ & ‘Easy Day Recommended’ after the little sleep I’d had. Without sleep, coupled with over 30,000 steps, I feared the worst for the race.

We had agreed that I’d go into Chicago early and the boys would aim to see me later and cheer me on at miles 2, 12, 18, and the final stretch somewhere near the finish line.

It was dark as I boarded the train with a couple of other runners. As the train pulled up at the stops along the way into the city, more and more runners and supporters got on until the train was buzzing with eager, apprehensive, excited participants, all heading for Grant Park. It was easy to follow the crowd towards the enclosed area reserved for the runners; 53,000 racers signed up, it was great to feel part of something so big. After a toilet break and watching the sun come up over the lake, I turned 180 degrees and watched as the skyscrapers were bathed in sunlight from the tops down, an amazing sight that I’ll never forget. With the watch saying 7:00am, 30mins to go before the start, it was time for a call back home to talk with Angeline my wife and youngest child Floss who stayed back in Sheffield. Without Angeline doing the childcare the marathon would not have happened, whilst I was out of the house running she was either at home looking after the children or ferrying them to and from the various clubs/lessons that they do. So it’s a massive thank you to her that this trip happened at all. She did toy with the idea of coming to Chicago with us, but it’s a long way to go with an 8 year old in tow for what is less than 3 days to watch your husband fly by in a few seconds (not mentioning a couple of days off school for Floss!!), so the notion of all of the family coming didn’t really carry any weight, hence just the three of us making the journey. So, after an emotional call with Angeline and her words of encouragement ringing in my ears, I made my way towards the toilets and then over to the start Iine. As I queued in the line for the bank of porta loos, the tannoy bleated out that all runners must make their way to the start; a quick bit of maths told me that I wouldn’t have time to ‘pay a visit’ unless the people in front blinked first and left the queue before me… they didn’t. 7:20am, I had to find a quiet spot behind a bush within the park; I did so with dozens of other runners, before jogging over to find my allocated wave half. 7:25am and at the back of my wave, I saw the 3:20 pacer, and I started to pick my way through the crowd as the American National Anthem was being played. I got to the 3:10 pacer and gave it up as a bad job – the crowd was too tightly packed.

Clothing was being shed and flung to the sides, energy gels were being gobbled up and tossed to the floor, the countdown was on… 5, 4 , 3, 2, 1… The Chicago Marathon was under way! 12 weeks of training boiled down to now: the 5 off 20 milers I’d done, the hundreds of miles, the booking, the organising, the cost, the buckets of sweat shed, all of it was for this moment…well, not quite this moment, for it took me a further 15 minutes before I crossed the start line. But now I was running, the race was on. After my dilemma the night before, I decided (because I simply didn’t know what to do) to just run, setting off at a pace I thought I could maintain for the next 3 hours or so.

Running in such a large mass of people – all with the single-minded goal of crossing the finish line at the end of 26.2 miles – is what it’s all about in my opinion. All 53,000 of us had the same destination; our motives may have been different, but ultimately, we were all in it together. People from all over the globe had descended onto the start line simply to complete 26.2 miles, and it’s that feeling of everyone being in it together which is why I love running. From Grant Park into the shadows of the

first skyscrapers we went, and because I started further back in my allocated wave, I found myself steadily picking people off as I went along. I saw Fin & Reu at Mile 2 like they said they would be, cheering me on – I felt an energy rush as I passed them, shouting and waving as I proceeded on to the next mile marker. At Mile 3, I realised that it was true what I had read: the GPS is a bit dodgy on the course due to the skyscrapers blocking the signal. My watch bleeped for 3 miles, but I was still around 200 metres away from the official 3 Mile marker. A quick check of my watch told me I was outside the 3:00hr marathon split time, but not by much…I decided to try to maintain this pace as long as I could, and see where I was at the halfway stage.

The support was amazing; the entire city was on the streets cheering us on – I felt like a gladiator. The miles ticked by, starting on Columbus drive, left on to East Grand avenue, through the theatre district, North on LaSalle Drive, turn at mile 8 and back towards the City… I was loving it. The course is pancake flat, and I was drinking a mouthful of Gatorade at every station along the course; I also took two gels from the feed stations at every opportunity. I didn’t see the boys at mile 12, but then with such a crowd, it wasn’t surprising.

Approaching the half-marathon mark, we were running across the river from Trump International where we had eaten on our first night; the sun reflecting off the surrounding colossal buildings made it feel a couple of degrees warmer than the rest of the course. At this point, half-way was announced on my watch, yet I was still around 200m-300m at least from the official marker. I checked my Garmin as I went over the timing mat: 1:31:40. If the holy grail of a sub 3:00 was on, I’d need to run the second half in 1:28:00 (or thereabouts). I decided to try to maintain my current pace, and if it was still on with 5K to go, aim to put in a quicker last 3 miles around the 6:30min/mile pace in an effort of achieving the goal; what I didn’t want to do was bonk out going out too fast too early… I still had a half marathon to run after all.

Onto Adams Street for miles 14 & 15, then 16 & 17 along Jackson Boulevard, I took another couple of gels at mile 18. I was feeling it but still confident of maintaining the pace, although I didn’t fancy trying to pick the pace up just yet with 8 miles to go. I got my first wobble between miles 19 & 20 – that monkey on the shoulder whispering in my ear, “You’re tired, why not walk a little?” & “Why are you putting yourself through this, you don’t have to?”. I batted the monkey down for now and instead told myself “Get to mile 20, and then it’s just 10K to the finish line”. The crowds were still there in abundance, and I received the ‘Go Steel City’ encouragement along with ‘Go Pittsburgh’ (which was a reference to the ‘Steel City’ Striders T-shirt I was wearing). Onto Michigan Avenue, moving away from the city up to mile 23, then a left turn and left again onto Indiana Avenue to navigate back city-bound, the finish line on Michigan Avenue once more…..

— Time to decide: Was a sub 3:00 marathon on or not? Although I’d been maintaining a steady, consistent pace – which I was surprised at, to be honest – I had a decision to make about increasing the pace for the last 5K. I asked myself if I could step it up, knocking 30 seconds a mile off my current pace, which I needed to do to get under the 3hr time… and the answer was a resounding “NO!”; I was all on just maintaining the current pace I was running at, which was hovering around the 7:00min/mile pace!
The decision was made in a couple of seconds: Try to keep going at the current pace for a marathon PB and a good-for-age London Marathon qualification time.

When I signed up for Chicago, I gave myself four targets depending on how the race panned out: My first target was a sub 3:00hr marathon. The second target – if I didn’t achieve the first goal – was a London Marathon good-for-age time. The third target was a marathon PB, and the fourth target… just get over the finish line. If I could maintain this pace for the last 5K, it would give me the London good-for-age time of 3:07mins, which would be amazing. I have previously entered the London ballot for the last 10 years and without success like many of you; I’ve even bought the tops a couple of times to give me ‘another chance’ in the draw, again without success… the second goal was worth chasing, even if the first goal had gone!

Throughout the race, I had been steadily picking people off, and the last 3 miles were no exception, although now some of the people I was overtaking were the runners struggling with cramp and walking. I was hanging on, but the monkey was no longer present – it had been put to bed long ago, and there was no way I was stopping or walking. It was a case of gritting my teeth and grinding it out for the last 20 minutes of my Chicago Marathon. 1000 metres to go, and I was thinking of how I wanted my photo to look as I crossed the line.

To say it was one of the flattest courses in the world, there was a slight incline to negotiate around 600m to 400m from the finish line, which I was able to take in my stride… it was nothing when you’re used to running around Sheffield. I didn’t see or hear them, but Reu and Fin were shouting and cheering from the sidelines 400 metres out from the finish – I was just too focused on getting over the line (I found out after the race that they had planned to see me across a few points along the course, but kept on missing me as I was just in front of them each time they tried).

Crossing the line felt the same as all the other races I have done: the euphoria and sense of achievement is the best feeling in the world; personally, it just gets better with the grandeur of the race. I believe the more effort you put into the race training, the greater that sense of achievement becomes.

After I met up with the boys, we walked to the Navy Pier for some food. Reu was at 85% full health, so he ate 50% of what he ordered. I didn’t fancy a large meal, so I ate a side dish, which was more than enough for me given the large American portions. We walked back into the heart of the city via the river walk and boarded the First Lady for our final treat of our Chicago trip, the Architectural River Boat Cruise; again, this proved a hit amongst the three of us. For 90 minutes, we cruised along the river, learning from the expert tour guide about all of the iconic buildings, who designed them, why they were built the way they were and how they built them – all in all, a very relaxing and enjoyable way to spend the afternoon post-marathon.

After boarding the Blue line for the last time over to O’Hare for our flight home into Heathrow, we climbed aboard the plane; with my medal proudly hung around my neck, I sat down and had the time to reflect on a hectic few day. The delayed flight coming to Chicago seemed ages ago, yet it had been less than three days. Reu had just about recovered for the flight home, and during the time it had taken him to recover, we had eaten at some incredible restaurants, visited an authentic Jazz Club, enjoyed a river boat cruise, visited the Navy Pier, touched the Bean, completed a marathon, and everything else in between. Chicago had been everything and more; I think the reason this trip was just that was because I had my boys with me. Every other marathon I’d done, be it Loch Ness or Boston (USA), I was on my own; I wouldn’t have done half of the things I’d done in Chicago if I was on my own, and it’s that which made it so special, sharing the experience with the guys you care about… The race was almost secondary, it was the excuse to give us the time to spend together.

All being well (and if the powers that be don’t lower the good-for-age grade time too much), in 2027, I’ll be reliving the marathon experience again, pounding through the streets of London…but I don’t see how it could possibly knock Chicago off its #No1 spot. Our weekend together was the most enjoyable, and the memories have been etched into the memory banks forever.

P.s over 60,000 steps walked on marathon day!

P.P.S I recommend the Pistachio Monkey Bread at Cindy’s Rooftop if you ever get the chance to visit.

The male race winner was Jacob Kiplimo of Uganda in 2.02.23. The female race winner was Hawi Feysa Gejia of Ethiopia in 2.14.57

Striders results: