Milk

I'm not the fastest. That's for sure. I'm also not as competitive as my aggressive personality may assume. Running was for self the first year. Personal bests, personal challenges, personal gain - you know - ways to be a better human. In my efforts to be better, I've slowly stopped thinking about myself and started focusing all of my attention on helping others. Running is no longer about me. 

 

Sweat falling in your left eye with a squint in your right. The sound of feet hitting pavement creates a subtle tempo that synchronizes with breath. There's a rainbow of colors ahead and a barricade of noise along the side. All races, all ages, all pitches - screaming anything and everything to keep momentum. Let's go back to the all colors thing. 

 

Fred Lebow started the NYC marathon doing a time of racial tension and dismay. The seventies were not as United as we are now especially across the five boroughs of the Apple. I remember watching the documentary and listening to people discuss the shift that took place after the firing of the gun.  Crowds of people stormed the streets as one.