Half Way Is A Start

I began my Labor Day weekend by pushing through the pain and self-doubt that accompanies any great effort and ran a half-marathon on my treadmill.

It took 2 hours, 17 minutes, and 32 seconds.  

It’s not a marathon, but half way is a great place to be.

Most often, it’s not about the end result, it’s more about the efforts one takes to get there.

No Marathon 2017

It has been the strangest autumn of my life.  Or, at least the strangest autumn of the last fifteen years – since 2002.

I’ve shared on these pages before that I’m not running a fall marathon this year.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling.  And I don’t particularly like it.  The beloved New York City Marathon, the race I love and adore, will go on without me.

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