Drew and siblings ran the Chicago marathon on Sunday! Everyone finished and looked proud but thoroughly sore limping back into the house. Drew finished in 4 hours, 10 minutes, which was either a little slower or a good chunk faster than his goal, depending on when you asked him what his goal was. Lindsay ran it five freaking months pregnant, and finished only 20 minutes behind Drew! Can you imagine? I can not.

Beth and I had our own marathon, of sorts. We drove to O’hare and took the CTA into the city, realizing on our way in that we had misinterpreted the map and would only be able to make it to the 16 mile marker to see everyone, rather than the 7 and 16. So we camped out and scanned faces for an hour (that is seriously exhausting!) but somehow only managed to spot Drew, Andy, and Tom. And even then, Beth answered her phone and in that fraction of a second, Drew ran by and she didn’t get to see him! I could barely get a photo, despite continuous shooting mode.




Hutch went to go find everyone at the finish line, and we chilled on the grass for a while longer and then headed back out.



… only to discover that my car was gone. Actually gone.

It turned out I’d read our parking spot number wrong, and we’d paid for the spot next to ours. So my car got towed. Only the towing company ignored their phone long enough for me to get halfway through filing a police report for a stolen vehicle. So then we returned to the train, went all the way back into the city, and walked a good mile to the impound lot. A mile is not a long way, but it certainly feels like it when you are tired and thoroughly pissy about your car getting towed. Since we’d paid for a spot, they cut us a break and only charged me $100. But when I asked if they could go any lower, the owner came out to personally lecture me about how it was my fault and he was being gracious and I should be more thankful. Can you tell I’m a little bitter about it? Honestly, I’m just grateful Beth and Junip stayed in good spirits. I was not exactly smiles and sunshine.

Anyway, we got the car, got back to the house, and ate our troubles away with deep dish pizza. All was well. It’s really amazing, actually, how much pizza six marathon-ers and a couple cranky ladies can eat. Drew alone ate half a deep dish pie.

Super adorable watching Lindsay play with Junip, by the way. For some reason she was terrified of Reid (sorry, Reid) but she had nothing but big gummy grins for Lindsay. Can’t wait for the two tiny cousins to meet!