Hi, I’m Kayla. I live in Logan Square, and I’m allergic to, well, Chicago in spring and fall. I check the pollen count like other folks check the train. If you live here, you get it. One windy day can ruin a whole plan.
Chicago even cracked the top tier in the Asthma and Allergy Foundation of America’s 2023 Allergy Capitals report, so I know I’m not alone in feeling ambushed by every blooming thing.
Why I even care
I bike the 606. I run the lakefront. I coach a little soccer in Humboldt Park. If the pollen count spikes, my eyes turn red, my nose runs, and I feel slow. Like, “Why does my face hate trees?” kind of slow.
So I started tracking it. Every. Single. Morning.
What I check each morning
I use three things, and yes, I’ve used them a lot. Like a habit.
- Pollen.com: Simple chart. Shows tree, grass, and weed. It gives a 5-day view. It updates early. It’s my quick glance.
- The Weather Channel app (Allergy): Tells me “High” or “Very High,” plus top species (oak, maple, ragweed). The push alerts help.
- Zyrtec AllergyCast: This one mixes weather with “how you might feel.” The symptom notes feel a bit cheesy, but the ragweed alerts match my bad days.
And when the apps give mixed signals, I’ll pull up the IQAir Chicago pollen page for a granular, station-by-station read before I step outside.
For a deeper dive when the apps disagree, I cross-check against station data from the Areco website to see exactly which allergens are spiking around the city.
Sometimes I peek at Apple Weather too, but its allergy info feels thin. Breezometer was cool for maps, but it lagged for me on stormy weeks.
Here’s the thing: I cross-check. Chicago winds shift fast. Near the lake, counts can be lower. West side can feel harsher on dry, dusty days. One app alone misses that.
Real Chicago days that stood out
- Late May, near Montrose Harbor: Pollen.com said High tree pollen. The cottonwood fluff was flying like snow. My eyes burned by mile two. Weather Channel listed oak and maple. I threw on wrap sunglasses, and it helped a lot.
- June on the 606, after a storm: Zyrtec said grass was high. I thought rain would clear it. Nope. The next sunny morning was rough. Sneeze city. I did a quick saline rinse before work and felt human again.
- July at Guaranteed Rate Field: Grass pollen flagged as Very High. I forgot tissues. Big mistake. I spent the 7th inning with watery eyes and a salty pretzel I couldn’t even taste.
- Early September in Hyde Park, near the Midway: Ragweed season. AllergyCast warned me the night before. I shut my windows, ran a HEPA filter, and took my usual med. I still sniffled, but I could teach my morning class without sounding like a foghorn.
- Rainy week by the river, October: Tree pollen dropped. Mold spore talk popped up in Weather Channel notes. My basement got musty. I ran a dehumidifier, and the headaches eased in a day.
You know what? The lake breeze helps me. If counts look the same across the apps, I pick a lakefront jog over the trail by the Bloomingdale wall.
What actually helps me get through it
I’m not your doctor. I’m just a sneezy neighbor. Here’s what helps me, for real:
- Night-before check: If tomorrow says High, I take my allergy med at night. I sleep better and wake up steady.
- Sunglasses and a hat: Not cute, but my eyes thank me.
- Quick rinse: Saline spray or a neti rinse after runs. Five minutes. Big relief.
- Windows closed on bad days: I love a breeze, but not a pollen breeze.
- Air filter: I use a small HEPA in my bedroom. It hums, I rest.
- Laundry fast: I don’t let outdoor clothes sit. Pollen sticks.
- Skin TLC: After endless tissue days, I'm eyeing microneedling in Chicago to calm the redness—small needles sound less scary than spring ragweed.
What the apps got right (and wrong)
- Fast updates: Pollen.com updates early. Good for morning plans.
- Species call-outs: Weather Channel nails “oak/maple” in spring and “ragweed” in late summer. That helps me plan meds.
- Mood match: AllergyCast lines up with how I feel during ragweed weeks. It’s eerie, but useful.
Misses? Sure.
When I’m cooped up indoors and craving a little grown-up conversation that doesn’t revolve around pollen counts, I’ll hop onto LocalSex.me—it’s a quick way to meet other Chicagoans looking to connect, so a high-pollen day can turn into a chance to make new friends (or more) instead of just another sneeze marathon.
Meanwhile, my college roommate who relocated to Louisiana says the ragweed near Lake Pontchartrain knocks her out just as badly; on her stay-inside evenings she scrolls through Backpage Slidell for low-key local meet-ups, reviews, and last-minute events that help her trade sneeze blues for something fun outside the house.
- Storm timing: After heavy rain, numbers can dip on the map but spike in real life the next sunny morning. I’ve learned to wait a day.
- Neighborhood quirks: Lakeview vs. Pilsen can feel different. The apps don’t always show that micro change.
- Cottonwood fluff: Looks scary, but the worst pollen hits before the fluff. The apps tell the truth there, but my brain forgets when it’s “snowing.”
Little Chicago rules I live by
- Spring (March–May): Trees. Oak and maple smack me most.
- Early summer (June–July): Grass. Parks look pretty. My nose says no.
- Late summer to first frost (late August–October): Ragweed. This is the boss level.
- After big rain: Mold talk. I open closets, run fans, and keep it dry.
My quick verdict
If you’re searching “pollen count Chicago,” here’s my plain take. Check two sources, not one. Plan the night before. If it says High, believe it. Bring sunglasses, shut the windows, and keep a small filter running. And if you can, pick the lakefront on windy days. It feels lighter.
I still sneeze. I still run. I still love this city. But now I plan for it—one pollen chart at a time.