With three solid hours of sleep, the depressing notion that my beloved Boston Red Sox had lost a crucial game in extra innings, and the understanding that I was about to run my 16th marathon, fellow runner John Ellis and I crossed the chip mat at the starting line of the Bay State Marathon in Lowell Massachusetts, and I ran the best marathon of my life. What happened next was not magic. It wasn’t some kind of impossible stroke of luck, and it wasn’t completely unexpected: to be a runner is t...
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