Everything I Ate in Chicago When I Ran the Marathon

I trained for 18 weeks to run 26.2 miles. But let's be honest — the real reason I went to Chicago was the food. Here's every meal, snack, and questionable decision from the weekend.

FRIDAY — Carb Loading Begins

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Lou Malnati's Deep Dish

Lou Malnati's Pizzeria, River North

You can't come to Chicago and not. I know deep dish is controversial. I know real Chicagoans supposedly eat tavern-style. I don't care. That butter crust, the chunky tomato sauce, the obscene amount of cheese — it's a religious experience.

Verdict: Worth every calorie. Ate half a personal deep dish and felt invincible.
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Italian Beef (Dipped, Hot)

Portillo's, multiple locations

My first Italian beef ever. Ordered it dipped with hot giardiniera because I'm not a coward. The bread disintegrates in your hands. Your shirt will never recover. Completely worth it.

Verdict: This is the one Chicago food I think about when I'm not in Chicago.

SATURDAY — Pre-Race Anxiety Eating

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Breakfast Burrito

Cafecito, Loop

Cuban-style breakfast burrito with eggs, black beans, cheese, and their signature garlic sauce. Small, efficient, perfect for nervous stomachs. Paired with a cortadito that was strong enough to wake the dead.

Verdict: Exactly what I needed. Not too heavy, packed with energy.
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Pasta Dinner at the Expo

Chicago Marathon Pasta Dinner, McCormick Place

Look, it's not gourmet. It's thousands of nervous runners eating mediocre penne in a convention center. But there's something beautiful about it — the shared anxiety, the terrible jokes, the collective hope that this will somehow help tomorrow.

Verdict: 3/10 pasta, 10/10 vibes.

SUNDAY — Race Day

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Pre-Race: Banana + Peanut Butter

Hotel Room, 4:30 AM

The most boring and important meal of the trip. Two bananas, a packet of peanut butter, and a lot of water. Eaten in terrified silence while staring at the ceiling.

Verdict: Did its job. No cramps. No regrets.
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Post-Race: Chicago-Style Hot Dog

Random stand near Grant Park

I finished. I couldn't feel my legs. Some kind stranger handed me a hot dog with everything — mustard, onions, relish, tomato, pickle, sport peppers, celery salt. No ketchup, obviously. I cried a little. It was the best thing I'd ever tasted.

Verdict: Peak human experience. Context is everything.
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Victory Dinner: Steakhouse

Gene & Georgetti, River North

Old-school Chicago steakhouse. Wood paneling, white tablecloths, waiters who've been there for 40 years. I ordered a ribeye the size of my head, creamed spinach, and a martini that was mostly gin. I earned this.

Verdict: Perfect ending. Fell asleep at 8 PM like a champion.

MONDAY — Hobbling Around

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Doughnut Flight

Do-Rite Donuts, Streeterville

Post-marathon recovery involves sugar. I tried the pistachio old fashioned, the maple bacon, and something called "The Couch" which is exactly what I became after eating it. No regrets.

Verdict: Medicinal. Highly recommend for sore muscles.
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One Last Italian Beef

Al's Beef, Little Italy

Because once wasn't enough. This time I went sweet peppers to compare. The bread was somehow even better. I shuffled out of there like a satisfied zombie, ready for the airport.

Verdict: Already planning my return trip around this sandwich.

Running a marathon is hard. Eating your way through Chicago is easy. The combination is the perfect excuse to consume approximately 12,000 calories over four days without a single regret.

Next year: Tokyo Marathon. The food research has already begun.

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