Early one October Sunday, while the sensible half of the world is still comatose, a great serpent is winding its way round a frozen Chicago. The 25th Marathon is happening. I’m somewhere in the hindquarters of this snake. Unknown to me, it’s been steadily shortening for the last forty minutes, since Khalid Khannoucchi crossed the finishing line. Now it’s almost 10:30, and we’ve just meandered across some Interstate towards Mile 16.… READ MORE.... …