I’ve been here every year for the last 3 years.

And every year I look over myself, wondering if I’m truly ready. If all the pain, the dead skin, the lost concentration on Sunday afternoons, and the times alone in the woods have clad me in an armor thick enough to survive another 26 miles, 385 yards.

I’ve had the propensity to regress to those whom I once trained with, whom I did train with, and whom I train with now. And I also have begun realize how far they are from me. But when I sit now and wait, I realize that those people share with me the very same anticipation, and the very same fear.

Today I will run for the last time, before a 10-minute jaunt the day before the race. I am in a physical state tantamount to what I was in one year ago this day.

One year ago today I was injured. I refused to admit it to myself, but those close enough knew it. No matter how much biofreeze, icyhot, or ibuprofen - It wouldn’t leave. Hell hath no fury like compartment syndrome. Except perhaps an injured runner at an XC meet.

I took 10 consecutive days off leading to Boston in 2007. Resulting in 3 straight minutes of pain-free running in Hopkinton. Then it returned.

I ignored the discomfort as I had done for the previous 8+ weeks. And I got through it.

The purpose of this statement is not to aggrandize one’s tolerance for discomfort, nor is it to bolster my own confidence. But it is to tell those who fear they won’t do it, they can’t do it, or they can’t imagine themselves doing it – That they can.

The human condition has something deeply buried within it that only arises in the most trying of circumstances. I don’t know what it is. Because adrenaline doesn’t last over 3 hours.

But it’s there. It doesn’t burn out. It guides us through the darkest of times, and evades us during the brightest.

Everytime I approach this event, I become highly skeptical of my own ability. For I remember my first marathon was done on this course. Present, was a degree of self-doubt that transcends the English language.

But I did it. And I came back. And went to other lands to conquer the same task, always taking me with me the humility and respect that such an endeavor asks of the human body.

After many days and nights of mixed emotions surrounding my 4th running, my vigor is still white hot.

And this many years to later, I continue to attempt to find the placidity to guide me through these trying times.

I continue to question my own readiness.

And I continue to search for a love, that words can no longer define.