October 5th. Marathon Sunday. The Twin Cities Marathon. The most beautiful urban marathon. I trained all summer for this day. I knew I would finish the marathon. I wasn’t prepared for how hard the start would be. I stood waiting with thousands of other runners in Corral 1. The announcer asked for a show of hands if this was your first marathon. I raised my hand and soon found than I was one of the few in this corral running a marathon for the first time. I started to think for a moment that I didn’t belong here. Maybe I should have moved back to Corral 2 or 3 where most everyone else I knew was running. No, I earned my spot here because of my times in previous shorter races and that’s all that matters. There is no way I’m backing down from this challenge. I believe if you train for it, you can do it.

The minutes seemed like hours waiting for the start of the race. This gave me too much time to think about where I been over the past three years. I thought back to my time in the hospital after I had my stroke. I thought about my family and friends. I thought about my doctors who approved me to compete today. I thought about the progress I made since last year's Marathon weekend

It was time to begin. As I headed for the starting line, all that I’d been thinking about began to fade. I was focused on the race. I thought about all of the good advice I’d received during training. The best advice I received was to have fun. I wasn’t going to be concerned with my finishing time. I was going to have fun!

Along the marathon route I high-fived everyone I could reach with their hand out. The spectators were incredible. They were everywhere. They shouted out encouraging words. I heard people saying: “looking strong”, “you can do it”, “nice mustache”, “you look so fast”. Around mile 22, I saw my family. They were all there. I gave them high-fives as I went by. Shortly after I passed my family, the race seemed just a little tougher. Sure, the last six miles are "slightly" up hill, but I trained running on hills. I tried to block the tired feeling with the encouraging words of the spectators. I knew I was slowing down, but I didn’t care. I was here to have fun. The miles passed slowly, 23, 24, 25. As I came over the final hill, the finish line was in sight. I kept my pace steady all the way through the finish line. I did it!