Saturday morning was hard in many ways. I watched tv early before leaving for the race and found out that Alex Sullivan, who had been at the Aurora midnight screening of Batman, had indeed died. I was struck by how desperate his family searched for him, I wanted to believe he would be found (much like my late cousin in 9-11), and the tears just flowed.
As I laced up and prepared for the race, I ate a bagel and almond butter, a banana and some water. The familiar fears struck. I found a pic recently of a guy running the LA marathon who had an episode of incontinence. But there are as many reasons to psych yourself up as there are to freak out, and I choose to shove the negativity to the background.
My brother joined me this time, and we started out. The number I was issued was the best: 666. I kid you not. It made for some good laughs.
You know how when someone yawns everyone does it? Well, it’s the same for the pre-race potties. I didn’t feel like going, and then I did. No accidents.
As we lined up, I saw members of the press lined up, but most of all, I saw people. And how narrow the “corral” was. A loud bullhorn signaled us to go, and off we went.
The feeling of running on an actual runway is surreal, like out of a dream. I ran. I walked. Rinse and repeat. I bested my time by 8 minutes.
There’s another one in September, and I’m still using the couch to 5k program. I’m long since left the couch behind, mind you. 26 pounds down.
T's corner 
Congratulations on coming so far! Good luck on your next run!