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Chasing a Dream: Running Boston as a Bandit

1:08 p.m. I pass Ma Yates, now relegated to my rearview mirror. Goodbye Granny!

1:50 p.m. At 10 miles, I’ve run for 90 minutes—exactly the pace I need to be on.

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But my run goes downhill from there. By the halfway point (13.1 miles), I’m still on track for my four-hour finish, having run the first half in two hours flat.

But then my legs stop cooperating.

Pretty soon they’re aching.

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