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Chasing a Dream: Running Boston as a Bandit

On Mile 19 I suddenly notice that Mimi has just passed me. I figure I will catch up with my long legs on the final downhill portion of the course.

But I never see her again.

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4:15 p.m. Mile 22 was, I think, the worst part of the race.

With only four miles to go, my legs felt both like heavy steel armor and jelly.

Save me, Lord. Save me, Mama. Somebody save me!

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