Sunday, October 18, 2015

And Then There Were Two...

Two weeks from today, I shall awaken before sunrise in a hotel room in lower Manhattan, shower, dress, bid the Missus farewell, and board a ferry.  Waiting for me at the end of the boat ride shall be the starting area for the 2015 New York City Marathon.  

At my office the other day, one of my colleagues asked me what my goal is for the Marathon.  "Survival", I replied, only half-kidding.  That is - of course - an incorrect answer.  My goal for the Marathon is that which it always is, which is to make it home.  For me, however, home is represented not by an address but by an individual.  Margaret, to me, is "home".  On Marathon Sunday, she will be in Central Park, with our friends Sue and Jeff to keep her company, patiently awaiting the arrival of her lumbering spouse, which arrival shall likely not occur for at least five hours after the firing of the starting gun.  

Irrespective of the time of day and regardless of the time on the race clock, at the moment in time at which I reach Margaret I shall have arrived home.  That is the goal.  On Marathon Sunday.  Every day.


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