Distant Memory

It's only been 4 days and the marathon is already feeling like a distant memory. It's partly because I had to jump back into work and it ended up being another very busy week and partly because there are fewer opportunities to think about it or talk about it each day. When I went back to work on Monday, only two or three people even remembered I had done it. The rest probably thought I had fallen down some stairs or been hit by a truck over the weekend based on the way I was hobbling around.

The (thankfully) diminishing pain also makes the race feel more distant. I woke up finally feeling normal again and had planned my first run today. I wanted to get some sleep so I opted to run after work. Silly me. Have I learned nothing in the past 11 years? I worked until almost 9 p.m. so it was too late to run. So instead I walked. I walked across town along Central Park instead of taking the subway. As I strolled along Central Park South and looked at Columbus Circle ahead of me I got a little nostalgic. This was the stretch just past Mile 25 where I gave it my all and didn't know if I was going to make that sub-4 goal. Everything looks so different when you're running. Now, with several lanes of traffic crowding the street and the famous blue line almost completely faded away, you'd never know there were 38,000 runners living their dreams in that same place just a few days ago.

I was a little sad that all signs of the race seemed to be gone, but then I rounded the corner at Columbus Circle and saw it: the end of the blue line where we left the street and re-entered Central Park with about 400 yards to go. This was the place where I had to shout out for runners to clear the way, where I was so close to making my goal that nothing in the world could stop me. I paused for a moment to remember and I snapped this photo. It may be a distant memory for everyone else, but it will stick with me for a very long time.