As more than 50,000 runners prepare to hit the streets for Sunday’s 2025 Chicago Marathon, a new kind of anxiety has gripped the city. It’s not about pacing or race-day nutrition, it’s about immigration enforcement.
The Chicago Marathon, one of the world’s largest, will weave through 29 neighborhoods and draw nearly two million spectators.
But this year, it arrives under the shadow of heightened federal activity. The Trump administration’s recent push to increase immigration enforcement and send National Guard troops into Chicago has left many runners, especially those traveling from abroad, wondering what to expect.
Mayor Brandon Johnson has tried to reassure them. “We’ve gotten word that roughly 3,000 runners from Mexico have signed up for this marathon, and I want all of them to come,” he said earlier this week. “The best way we can demonstrate resistance is not bending the knee to tyranny.”
That defiant tone reflects the tension between city officials and federal authorities in recent weeks.
The government’s “Operation Midway Blitz,” a surge in immigration raids across the Chicago area, has already resulted in hundreds of arrests. Many immigrant neighborhoods along the marathon route, including Pilsen and Little Village, have grown quieter as fear spreads about potential ICE activity on race day.
On social media, international runners have been trading anxious messages: Should they bring passports? Could their race-tracking data be misused? Some even wondered if they should drop out altogether.
One viral Reddit post captured the mood, with a runner pledging to stand by anyone who felt unsafe: “If anyone even looks at him crossing that finish line, I’ll protect him. Don’t care what it takes.”
Race officials have said they’ve received no indication that federal forces will interfere with the event.
ICE also told local outlets it does not conduct operations at “sensitive locations,” such as public gatherings, unless there are exceptional circumstances. Still, organizers acknowledged they’ve thought through contingency plans, a reflection of just how unusual the situation has become.
Marathon security has always been intense since the 2013 Boston bombing, but this kind of worry is new. The usual race-day nerves, leg cramps, fueling mistakes, unpredictable weather, now share space with political anxiety.
Mayor Johnson signed an executive order this week to block federal agents from using city-owned spaces for immigration operations, hoping to protect public trust. “We can’t control what the federal government might do,” his press secretary said, “but we can make sure our city is not complicit.”
For many, the marathon now carries added meaning. Chicago has long marketed the race as a celebration of endurance and global community. This year, it’s also a quiet act of defiance, thousands of people from every background showing up to run through a city wrestling with fear but still determined to move forward.
