It would be arrogant if I defined it. But it would also be true.

But at times I feel that God gave me a gift. Not in the genetically endowed sense. Nor in the conventional wisdom of uncanny ability. But rather a simple and pure form of happiness that has defined so much of my life.

And because it has guided me stronger than any compass could have, I feel I must use this gift to the best of my ability.
I must work at it, hammer it, forge it, sharpen it, and then break it down to make it better. This is the distance project.

From this gift has spawned a love that is hard to define.

Not love as it is described with such facility in popular magazines. But love that is order and encouragement, hope and support, and an unwavering and infinite object to purse.

It requires nothing more than the will to move yourself rapidly through space. (Sometimes more rapidly than others ☺ )

But today was one of those moments when I felt compelled to use this gift to the most my body would let me. After an “all-clear” from arguably the finest orthopedist in the country, I waited for my vocation to end for the day, so I could begin play.

After one day’s rest, I felt fresh and light.

3 miles: Staring to remember how this thing goes.

6.5 miles, ready to turn around the Charles.

7 miles: Yes, heaven does exist in Roxbury.

8 miles: Down the sand of the golf course, almost at that point.

9 miles: Street Light = Boylston Street

11 miles: No energy remains. Every sinew of my mind and body are firing to sustain my maximal oxygen uptake.

Stop. Breathe. Puke.

Check vitals.

… Still breathing.

Start cooling down in the woods. Say hi to woman and dog who clearly are alarmed at my physical state.

2 miles of pine needles.




...I may never run this hard again for this long. It may be the pinnacle of my training for two years

And no one knew. No one was watching.

All that is left is a mess in a parking lot that will be gone in a few hours. A few photos, and a memory seared into my fiber deeper than a 4th degree burn.

To the layperson, this may not sound like a gift. It may sound like 13 miles of concussive agony, ending in violent turmoil of both mind and body.

But to me it is something I thank God for every day.

It is something without which, my will, my sanity, and my temperament would extinguish

It has been said that .."from everyone who has been given much, much will be required; and to whom they entrusted much, of him they will ask all the more."

Witness my gift.