I Ran the New York City Marathon
Training for the NYC Marathon
When I decided to run the New York City Marathon, I had just returned from Mt. Kilimanjaro where my 64-year old aunt and I made it to the summit -- the Roof of Africa as it's called. After hiking up 19,343 feet, we felt like we could do anything. So she went back to her home in Louisiana and started raising butterflies to let loose in the wild. She wanted to be one with nature. I came back to New York and decided to be one with cement. My usual three miles -- which have always been grueling for me -- became five, then seven, then eight. And with each mile that was added on, I became more miserable about my undertaking. Then I got a black toenail. Not just a light gray one, but full on black, requiring three coats of fire engine red to cover up.
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