And suddenly, my aches and pains go away. With the crowd ever louder, I run almost effortlessly. I didn’t even come close to four hours, but I’m going to finish-and, it seems, that’s all that really matters.
Two turns left. I make the first, see the final corner a little ways ahead, and run even faster. And then, when I make my move onto the final homestretch and see thousands of people lined up on either side of me and a beautiful blue “Finish” sign off in the distance, I shout with joy and start sprinting to the end.
Is this me? Am I really doing this?
Coming home, I’m more focused than I’ve been throughout the entire race, bolting down the center of Boylston St. with only one thought in the world-I’m almost there.
Read more in Sports
No. 3 Notre Dame Drops M. Lacrosse, 16-4Recommended Articles
-
My Quarter-Life CrisisThis past summer my Daddy left his partner status at a posh law firm to join a company whose office
-
Saved By the Bell: I'm Gettin' Old“A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams,” John Barrymore once opined. Thanks to the NCAA
-
Lopez Eyes Return to StardomHis name appears on baseball cards, box scores and major league scoreboards, but this Javy Lopez is not a professional
-
The True Confessions of Miss HarvardThree weeks ago, after manually constructing breasts, bruising myself with batons and adorning a blue crushed velvet leotard, I captured
-
Views of the WeirdThe Rev. Peter J. Gomes eyed the scorpion bowl in front of him, stuck the foot-long straw between his lips,
-
Jesus, Etc.Smiling in all-knowing way, the Rev. Peter J. Gomes wags an authoritative finger at me and diagnoses, “You’ve got a
