Day 8: The Last 10 Miles

I took the train into NYC today to run the route of the last 10 miles of the marathon. It was quite emotional, in fact I had already cried twice before I even left the house. “The last 10 miles,” there are so many meanings for that phrase beyond just running. This truly feels like the last steps, the last miles, in a journey to heal myself that started in February. Beyond all the endorphins and everything that happens when you exercise, just getting out on the road, fighting with everything I have through several runs, and watching myself get stronger, both mentally and physically during this journey, has been beyond cathartic. I am in the last 10 miles of my healing and when I cross that finish line on Sunday,…I am not even sure what to type right now as tears fill my eyes….it is incomprehensible.

As for the actual journey of the last 10 miles, it started just over the Queensborough bridge at 59th and 1st. I followed 1st Avenue and about 3+ miles in, I got pretty lost and unsure as to where I should be going. I found my way back on track and just as I did, a nice man came running by, noticing I was in complete running gear but holding my phone up with a map on it, he asked me if I was running the marathon route. I told him I was, and he said to follow him and he would point it out. So we ran together for awhile, talked a little bit, I told him this was my first ever marathon and he pointed out spots where the crowds would be and things to expect. He was a bit of an older gentleman with a New York Road Runners shirt on, so clearly he had done this route many times before. It ended up that we ran together the entire time, I just followed him through the streets, as he continued to tell me what to expect, where the tough spots were and how many people and bands would be in attendance on marathon Sunday. It was a great run and an absolutely gorgeous day in the city!

So there I was, with this wonderful man, a complete stranger, running the last 10 miles of the marathon. All I told him about myself was that this year had been a journey for me and he seemed to understand without me having to say more. As we approached Columbus Circle, which is symbolic for getting close to the finish line, tears came to my eyes. We kept running and we started to pass the Grandstands that were being put up already and he pointed up ahead to where the finish line would be. We ran up to that point and we stopped, and I turned to him and I asked him his name, it was Steve. I put out my hand and shook his, I told him my name, and told him how much I really appreciated his help and I thanked him. Then I turned and walked off by myself and just let the tears flow for a bit. It is truly hard to imagine what Sunday is going to feel like, but today, was incredible!