As I crossed the starting gate, I pressed the start button on my watch and said to myself "Here we go again..."
4 hours 19 minutes and 52 seconds later. I crossed the finish line...happy. Not because I was finished. And not because I had a new best marathon time, but because I was happy about the road I had just traveled. I was happy. I had found the pure joy and love that I thought I had lost for the sport. This isn't to say I didn't struggle at times during the run. I had moments where the fatigue and strain started to weigh heavily on me, but each and every time I would say aloud to myself "enjoy this." I would then close my eyes and smile. I would look around at the crowd. I would tune into the anonymous cheers. I would give appreciation to the supporters who pronounced my name correctly. I was equally thankful for the supporters who didn't. I slowed down and in some cases traveled back against the flow of runners to say hi to a familiar face.
And so as ran, hobbling on stiff legs, for that last mile, I remembered why I did this.
p.s. A very special THANK YOU to my wife and all my loved ones who supported me.
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