Chicago and I have a history.
Chicago broke my heart in 2010. We made up in 2016.
I was excited to return. It wasn’t an easy trip.
If you’ve read the Where My Feet Are Homepage you know that in 2010 I flew to Chicago to run a half marathon with two of my graduate school friends. I had started having anxiety and panic attacks on my training runs and was having doubts about going through with the race. I decided to go to Chicago and see it through and had the worst panic attack of my life the same day I arrived. I flew home the next day feeling mortified and terrified and spent the years since trying to get back on solid ground.
I went back in 2016 to visit my high school friend, Leah, who had also been my roommate for a while in Boston and fell in love with the city. It was hard but it was a success.
On my current trip, I stayed in Boystown my first night which is a beautiful neighborhood that reminds me of Back Bay in Boston. It is a historically LGBTQ neighborhood and there are rainbows and good vibes everywhere. I settled in and went to Wood restaurant my first night. I sat at the bar and enjoyed a glass of wine, fancy carrot soup, and a steak dinner.
After one night in Boystown I moved to an AirBnB in West Town for the rest of my 2 weeks. West Town is not as pretty as Boystown but my AirBnB was spacious and I had a dishwasher for the first time in months! My host was amazing and she owns the restaurant, Flo, downstairs which I ate at a few times.
My first week I went to the Hubbard Street Murals to check out the street art. I went to a Cubs game at Wrigley Field with Leah, her husband, and her brother. After the game we went to the batting cages at Sluggers bar. I had an absolutely amazing time.
My first weekend, I grabbed coffee with one of my friends from grad school who I haven’t seen since 2010 when we were planning to run the half together. After coffee I headed to the beautiful Evanston neighborhood to explore. I got to see the famous house from Home Alone which is my all time favorite Christmas movie. I also walked around the grounds at the Baha’i house of worship which many people recommended.
My biggest, most emotional accomplishment of this entire trip, so far, was running in Chicago. My first Monday under an overcast and snowy sky I ran 3 miles along the Lakefront. My body was so tense that I got cramps and had to walk for a few minutes halfway through but I did it… and I stayed calm. I felt an immense amount of pride and satisfaction. A few days later I did my Wednesday speed workout around Lincoln Park which is the only place I saw on my first trip in 2010 before my panic attack. I felt such closure and accomplishment. I planned to run the well known 606 loop the following Monday but that never happened.
Chicago was equal parts brave and equal parts a kick in the teeth. I was so excited to go there; I was ready. I spent my first week crushing life and exploring everything I could: running, exploring, dinners, friends…
I spent my second week avoiding leaving my house while watching old Handmaid’s Tale episodes wracked with anxiety. I couldn’t run. I couldn’t explore. I cancelled plans.
I woke up that Thursday and finally felt better. The headache I’d had for 4 days was gone. The anxiety diminished. I was looking forward to my rescheduled dinner plans.
I walked to the neighborhood to meet up with my friend and saw a beautiful rainbow on the way. I was thinking I could do this. I thought I was going to be ok.
As soon as I got there every cell in my body went into panic mode. Hot and cold skin tingling. Thoughts racing. Heart beating. Sick. I’m going to throw up. I need to run. I need to leave. Don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t lose your shit. Do better. You’re a fucking therapist. Is my tongue swelling? Am I dying? Do I need an ambulance? Oh my god don’t embarrass yourself. Step outside. Breathe. Leave. Run. Escape. You’re not ok. You’re in danger. You’re dying. You’re embarrassing yourself. You’re not dying. You’re future predicting. These are all things that haven’t happened and have never happened. Breathe.
I stayed. I had to tell my friend I was feeling super anxious and wasn’t going to be able to actually eat dinner. We sat and talked. I was determined not to run from it, to ride it out, to see if it would pass enough to enjoy the rest of the evening. It didn’t. My friend drove me home after about an hour. I’m proud of myself for staying. I’m embarrassed it was so hard. I got in bed when I got home and cried and watched Harry Potter.
The next day I had a major anxiety hangover- luckily I also had therapy. I spent some extra time in bed and then I went to sit by the lake. Water has always felt soothing to me. It was a sunny but windy day so the lake was choppy and churning. I felt better after sitting there watching the waves crash over the cement shore.
I had plans that night to get dinner with my friend Leah who I went to the Cubs game with. I wasn’t confident I would be able to get dinner but I wanted to try more than I wanted to stay home.
On my drive out to the suburbs I saw a scary incident unfold. I had stopped for a woman in a crosswalk who was talking to a car pulling out of the street perpendicular from where I was. All of a sudden the car took off and whipped the wheel towards the woman in the crosswalk and subsequently towards my car- head on. The woman driving the car jumped out without putting the car in park and began punching the woman in the cross wall. I thought the car was going to hit mine but luckily the steering wheel veered to the side and it went onto the curb. I quickly went around the women as I felt extremely unsafe. I could see people running towards them in my rear view and a man jumping into the car to put it in park. Needless to say this was not ideal for my anxiety.
I got to Leah’s safety and had some amazing puppy therapy with her adorable dogs. We went to dinner in downtown Geneva and had an amazing time walking around and catching up. I didn’t feel anxious and truly enjoyed myself.
While talking with Leah she helped me have an important realization- I’ve been framing this trip as helping me learn to travel without anxiety but maybe it’s actually about learning to travel with anxiety; managing the anxiety to do it anyways. Somehow this simple message escaped me until now.
On my way out of town I got some famous Chicago style hot dogs from Byron’s and Benny was a big fan.
Cool cat & some Chicago dogs
Where My Feet Are 