26.2

Scenario: a man runs as fast as he possibly can back to his home town to update everyone on the war his town is currently involved in. This distance happens to be 26.2 miles. The man dies upon arrival.

Genius idea: Let's recreate a run that killed the first man who did it. And because he was such a pathetic athlete, (hello - he didn't survive) let's not name it after him but the name of his town. AND, let's make people pay money to run the same distance and tell them its actually fun! We'll throw in a shirt just to seal the deal.

Well, I fell for it, hook, line and sinker. I shelled out money for the race, making race day shirts, gas for driving to long run locations, a certain mp3 player, a Nike+ system. . .good gravy, no wonder I'm broke!

Who cares if my time isn't very good? Who cares if my knee is in a bit of pain? Who cares if it took until mile 6 to pass the guy lugging his own oxygen tanks behind him? I ran up "the wall". I ran the last 2.2 miles. I mastered the art of grabbing cups full of liquid without stopping. I mastered the art of blocking out pain. There are just a handful of things I've ever done in my life that are more emotional than those last .2 miles up Salmon Street with "The Fat Lady" singing, hearing strangers cheer & applaud you, seeing familiar faces holding signs with your name on them. And don't forget the best part - all the free Starbucks mud pies you can eat!