We weren’t meant to spend our lives standing still. We were meant to challenge ourselves, step beyond what we know, and experience the beauty waiting on the other side.
The city of Chicago is one of the most iconic cities in the world, known for its breathtaking skyline, rich cultural history, and home to one of the Abbott World Marathon Majors. For many runners, the Chicago Marathon is a bucket-list race, not only because it offers the opportunity to earn a star toward the Abbott World Marathon Majors Six-Star Medal, but also because of the incredible energy and community support felt throughout all 26.2 miles.
The race is especially known for its spectator-friendly course, giving friends, family, and locals plenty of opportunities to cheer runners on along the way. Add in a flat, fast course that offers the potential for personal records, and it’s easy to see why runners from around the world are drawn to this race.
For me, though, it was about something a little more personal. It was a chance to run through the city my family came from, experience the honor of participating in such a historic event, and see firsthand what running a marathon on this scale had to offer.
The days leading up to race day were nothing short of incredible! It all started with the expo, where runners gathered to pick up their race bibs and explore booths from the event’s sponsors and other running brands. Walking through the building, seeing the scale of the event, and realizing I was actually a part of it felt surreal. It was one of those moments when you stop and think about the memories you’re making and the experiences you never imagined you’d get to be a part of.
I made a point to stop at every booth I could, soaking it all in—from the heavy hitters like Adidas, Nike, and Shokz to smaller brands, local running stores, and even Team ChiParks, the nonprofit team I partnered with to raise money for Chicago’s parks and green spaces. Every booth offered something different, and I wanted to take in as much of the experience as possible.
Little did I know, the expo was only the appetizer to the main course—the race itself—was still to come.
“What do you eat before your race? Do you need anything? What can we do to help?” These were just a few of the questions my grandparents asked me the night before race day.
Having these two as my “pit crew” was such a fun experience, especially since this was a first for them, too. Watching me prepare by eating what felt like endless amounts of food, they made sure I was in tip-top shape for whatever the race might throw my way. Thankfully, I never go hungry in their home. I ate everything they put in front of me, from pizza and pasta to beef sandwiches. And, of course, you can’t forget Dzia’s (my grandpa’s) famous pancakes to make sure my stomach was full.
These two have been such a cornerstone of my support system, and I couldn’t be more grateful to have their home as my base camp for the weekend. Every meal felt like another little reminder of how lucky I was to have them in my corner.
The cherry on top of it all was a simple slice of banana bread before I tucked myself in for the night. Grandma made sure I got my banana intake in somehow, and what better way than baking up something that felt more like a sweet treat than race-day preparation.
It paired perfectly with the sunset I watched from their backyard. Looking out over this space brought back memories of running up and down that green, grassy hill with my cousins as a kid. For a moment, I got to take a little trip down memory lane before waking up to the joy of the day ahead.
Soon enough, I’d be heading into the city to make a new memory of my own.
4:30 AM — Chicago Marathon Race Day
I started the morning the same way I do before every race: two slices of sourdough topped with peanut butter, banana, and honey. Simple, filling, and just what I needed before the miles I was about to put my body through. I followed it up with a glass of water mixed with creatine and electrolytes to get my hydration started early, something that’s always important on race day.
The weather was looking promising, too. The forecast had given us the green flag, meaning conditions were expected to be ideal for running. What more could you ask for?
6:00 AM
Getting into the city was surprisingly easy. Everything had been organized so well that it took away much of the usual pre-race stress, making this one of the smoothest parts of the morning. As I made my way toward the Team ChiParks tent for our team meetup, I caught myself thinking, It’s finally starting to feel real.
I felt incredibly lucky to be part of such a wonderful group. The team had taken such good care of us, providing everything from food and drinks to a heater to keep us warm on the chilly morning. And my personal favorite? Private bathrooms, meaning we could skip those dreadful lines alongside thousands of other runners.
Beyond the race itself, our team had raised over $700,000 for Chicago’s parks. Just let that sink in for a moment. An incredible amount of money raised to support the green spaces that bring so much life to the city. Being part of something that extended beyond running made the experience even more meaningful.
With excitement building and our hearts full, we waited for the call to make our way toward the starting line. And to my surprise, it was much closer than I had expected.
7:30 AM
Packed into the starting corral, I felt like a canned sardine, just itching to burst through that starting line. Since I was in Wave 2, we started about 30 minutes after the elite runners, giving them time to get out ahead before the rest of us took off.
Looking around, I saw faces from all over the world, each person bringing their own story to this moment. We were all there for different reasons, but we shared one common goal: to conquer 26.2 miles and become part of the history of this iconic race.
As the clock continued to count down, I couldn’t help but turn my attention to the people around me. I found myself offering words of encouragement, wishing everyone the best, and sharing a smile in hopes of passing along a little positive energy. After all, we were all about to embark on something incredible, and if I could help someone feel even a little more confident before the start, why not?
The anticipation was building, the crowd was ready, and the moment I had been waiting for was finally here.
Electric.
The one word that could describe the start of this race. They always remind you to start slow when running a marathon, but how can you possibly manage that when the very first tunnel is bursting with energy? We’re talking about a massive DJ set and strobe lights, almost as if you were standing front row at a concert you’d been waiting all year to see. If this was what the first half mile had in store, I couldn't even begin to imagine what the rest of the course would bring.
Coming out of the tunnel, you’re immediately thrown right into the heart of the city. Surrounded by beautiful buildings reaching toward the sky, I felt so small yet so big all at once. I was still in complete disbelief that I was actually experiencing this moment, taking part in an event with such a historic presence. but what stood out most was the crowd.
Every turn brought another person holding a motivational or goofy sign, offering a little encouragement to everyone passing by. In an environment like this, the energy is contagious. I couldn't help but feed off it, letting the excitement of the crowd carry me forward and push me one step closer to that finish line.
That energy would be needed more than ever just two miles into the race as an unmarked pothole was about to send my ankle clear out from under me.
The pain immediately shot up my shin after the initial pop that came with my ankle rolling underneath me. The energy of the crowd was still there, but the sounds around me slowly began to fade as my brain tried to process what had just happened. I managed to keep my balance and was still running. I didn't collapse or stop; I simply kept putting one foot in front of the other.
“Not this early. Don't stop running. Keep moving forward.”
Those were the words I kept repeating to myself as the pain continued to creep up my leg with every step. I hadn't come all this way just to stop two miles into the race.
By mile six, the realization finally hit me. The pain was becoming unbearable, unlike the rolled ankle I'd experienced back in February. It was at this point that I decided to let go of any expectations surrounding my finish time. Instead, my focus shifted toward one thing: making it across that finish line. More importantly, I wanted to enjoy the experience along the way. This was an opportunity I might only get once, and I wasn't going to let the circumstances completely take that away from me.
And so began a new mentality for the remaining 20 miles.
Slowly, a smile began to find its way across my face, even as the pain continued. I started alternating between running and walking, often finding myself alongside other runners who were going through their own struggles. Keeping one another company became its own kind of motivation. I wanted to fuel their determination to reach the finish line, just as their presence helped fuel mine. There's something about lifting others up, especially when you're struggling yourself, that fills my soul.
Along the way, I found myself talking with people from all over the world, including Mexico City, Kenya, India, Japan, Ireland, the United Kingdom, Canada, and Australia. Each person had a different story about what brought them to this moment, but we all shared the same goal: crossing that finish line.
Of all the people I crossed paths with, one of the most memorable was a woman from Australia named Sherrie. We met around mile 14 at one of the water stations scattered throughout the course. She noticed my run-walk routine and asked if she could join me so we could keep each other company. She, too, was working through the mental and physical challenges of the race.
As the humidity continued to rise throughout the day, Sherrie mentioned how unexpected the weather had been. Around this time of year, Chicago typically begins to settle into those cooler fall temperatures. Instead, we were dealing with steadily rising temperatures and humidity that neither of us had quite prepared for.
Throughout our run-walk stretches, Sherrie was incredibly supportive. She never rushed me or made me feel like I needed to push through the pain in my legs. She was fighting her own battle with the heat and trying to avoid becoming another victim of the conditions. This was her fourth World Major, having already crossed Boston off her list, but she told me this was by far the hardest race she had completed.
Even while dealing with my own struggles, I continued encouraging the runners around us, offering a few words of support whenever I could. This seemed to catch Sherrie by surprise. At one point, she turned to me and said, “I truly enjoy the energy that you bring. How do you continue to do that even in such pain?”
I couldn't help but smile at her comment.
“We all need that little boost, no matter what. Everyone out here is doing something they never thought they could. If I can help even one person along the way, then I've already won my race.”
After 3 miles, Sherrie & I went our separate ways to complete this race we set out on. The show kept going on through every neighborhood, each bringing their own kind of party & let me tell you the party they brought. Especially in the way of the alcoholic drink of Malort. Everywhere I looked I found someone offering this weirdly tasting drink all with a goofy sign to welcome the runners to enjoy this “fuel”. How could anyone enjoy a drink that taste like cough syrup, but hey it helped distract myself from the ever growing pain in my ankle.
Looking at my watch I knew we were getting closer to the home stretch especially with the mile 22 sign in reach. There was something I remembered reading about this section. Was it another party area? Maybe more Malort base camps? No, it was the fact that as soon as you reached mile 22 you were able to see people coming down the course at Mile 24. How close they were to the finish & how much more work I had to get done.
Thankfully, it was just a straight shot down & a straight shot back to reach the initial mile 24, but with the ever growing heat cramps began to sneak in. First my left quad was swallowed up by this feeling, followed by my right not to long after, just another layer to this race that was trying to get me to stop.
For a relatively flat course, the final stretch toward the finish line felt like one big uphill climb. I'm not sure why, but I swear every race I've participated in has found some way to sneak in one last incline. The true final test before you get to reap the rewards of everything you've worked for.
By this point, the pain in my ankle was at an all-time high. I was ready to be done, ready to throw in the towel, and ready to simply walk across the finish line. But why give up when you're already so close?
My mind wasn't ready to quit, and my new friend at the finish wasn't about to let me stop either. Over the final 0.6 miles, I decided to leave everything I had out there. This complete stranger and I found another gear and sprinted toward the finish together as the reality of what was happening slowly began to sink in.
The red carpet was laid out ahead of us, with bleachers full of people cheering from either side. This was it. This was actually happening. I was about to finish the incredible feat of running the Chicago Marathon.
5 hours, 25 minutes, and 35 seconds.
Euphoria.
When you cross a finish line, you never really know what to expect emotionally, other than a wave of feelings all at once. For me, it was tears streaming down my face, filled with joy, accomplishment, and the overwhelming realization that I had been presented with a challenge and faced it head-on. Despite everything that happened along the way, I made it.
There's nothing I've experienced that quite compares to this feeling, and it's one I welcome every single time I cross a finish line. It's a reminder of what can happen when you step beyond what's comfortable and embrace the unknown challenges life puts in front of you.
So if you ever find yourself presented with an opportunity to push beyond your limits and take on something you never thought possible, take the leap. We're not meant to spend our lives standing still. We're meant to challenge ourselves, venture into the unknown, and experience the sweet beauty of what's waiting for us on the other side.
Sincerely,
Michael Koziol
“We can only know how strong we are when we strive & thrive beyond the challenges we face.”
-Kemi Sogunle
