Writer on the Run XXVIII

By the time I hit mile seventeen I could feel my legs start to shake so I grabbed a carbo gel from my belt and sucked it back with some water.   I took pics with people holding signs and when I hit the wall at mile 20...I called Dan crying hoping he would tell me to stop but knowing those words would never cross his mind or his lips. I had it in the back of my head that once I crossed the last bridge from the Bronx and into Manhattan I would be on the home stretch but I struggled knowing it would still be another ninety minutes of running. I can't quit...my son is waiting for me at the finish...


Becoming someone who finishes what they start regardless of what lies ahead has been someone I have ached to become...this is the first step...when I cross the finish line I will have no excuses for not crossing it in every other corner of my life. It was a profound moment for me when I realized I had finally become the woman I had respected and loved. I crossed the last bridge, wiped my tears and carried on down Fifth Avenue heading for Central Park...