We came off the bridge and onto 1st Avenue where wildly cheering fans lined both sides of the street six or seven deep.

At 76th Street I saw my brother and sister in-law and raised my hands to pose for a picture.

Another brick in the wall

After about 18 miles the blocks seemed to get longer and I could feel pace getting slower. I walked some and took water more often. The crowd was yelling for me to push on.

Was this the wall? Would I finish the race? I knew I'd finish. I just had to keep moving. The crowd urged me on.

After passing through the Bronx, we went into Harlem where the spectators were going wild. Music blasted from a huge stereo system and everyone was clapping to the beat. I picked up the pace and headed down 5th Avenue toward Central Park.

My pace was down to the point that I knew my 2:50 goal was out of reach. Finishing would be a breeze though.

The crowds got bigger as we approached the park. I saw my brother again and he was leading the people around him in chanting my name. What a life, I thought.

It's all over now

We went into the park, out to Central Park South and back in. I saw the finish line ahead and increased my speed.

A minute later I crossed the line with the overhead clock reading 3:11:00. Someone put a medal over my head while someone else wrapped a mylar blanket around me. It was over. I had finished.

One more time

I thought about the cab driver the week before. "It's a big thing," he had said.

He was right. I had run 26 miles in front of two million of the most diverse people in the world. The waiting, the lines, the anticipation, and the finish were all behind me.

In a few days the soreness in my calves will pass and my body will return to normal. I'll probably begain to think about running another marathon. I don't know when that will be, but I hope my cab driver knows how to get to the starting line.