Writer on the Run XXIV

I felt somewhat rejuvenated as I made my way through Spanish Harlem, until it looked like a game of Mario Kart with all of the banana peels everywhere...add water to the mix and it's now an extreme marathon. I started to count down the blocks knowing where Central Park starts and that I will complete the run on the west side of it. With each mile I could feel my hips tighten and ache, I kept praying that my legs wouldn't give out knowing that it happens all the time to even the most seasoned marathoners. I had almost talked all my confidence back into my mind and body when a women carrying an enormous American Flag complete with the ten foot pole blew by me like I was standing still...I really hope someone handed her that a few blocks ago and she didn't start with it; I was having trouble still holding onto my iPod shuffle. Finally the turn into the park and I was trying my best not to give up mentally knowing I only have three miles left...it may as well be the start line...

We made another right and turned down Central Park South headed for Columbus Circle before we made our last right hand turn and back into the park to finish and come hell or high water....I will sprint across the finish line...my emotions came flooding back when I thought about my son watching me complete with epic day...the chanting begins and the crowd pushes you forward to the finish line.  I took a deep breath and felt the warm tears stream down my face when I made the final turn and entered back into the park.  My son and I walked this the day before so I knew it was close and the tears poured harder. I ran up beside a woman who was struggling with walking and reminded her that she would still be sore tomorrow but she only has this last two hundred metres to finish strong...she smiled through her own tears and did her best impression of a runner.  I looked to my right and locked eyes with my beautiful son...lets' finish this...