Well, something completely different.  A lot more writing than picture taking and it is all about me.  And there will be a picture at the end.

Yesterday I did the Jimmy Fund Boston Marathon Walk to raise money for the Dana Farber Cancer Institute.  I walked 26.2 miles over the same route as the Boston Marathoners go.  I walked from Hopkinton to Framingham to West Natick to Natick to Wellesley to Newton to Brookline to Copley Square.

I walked 26.2 miles along the same route as the Boston Marathon, from Hopkinton to Copley Square.  I conquered Heartbreak Hill.

Part of me still can’t believe I actually did it.  It had to be one of the craziest experiences of my life.  Walking itself isn’t a big deal.  Walking even five miles isn’t a big deal.  Once I got to ten miles, my feet were screaming.  I mean they were just absolutely screaming for mercy.  I rolled them around a little bit, I ate a bit.  The next few miles were painful.  I wanted to give up.  Honestly, what kept me going was thinking that walking this thing is no where near as painful as having cancer.

At Mile 16, I was greeted by cheers.  Bells and cheers and I loved that.  Those people didn’t know me.  I was just a walker and these people didn’t know me, but they cheered anyway.  And that was just what I needed.

By Mile 20, I was in Newton.  It was at that point that I could not imagine the walk actually ending.  I thought I was actually going to be walking forever and ever and to some kind of end of Earth looking location like from where the bushman throws the Coke bottle from in the God’s Must be Crazy.  I rested my feet and myself, but for no more than five minutes, afraid that my body would seize up immediately and the cramping would start.  I hate to say this, but I actually thought about quitting at this point.  But I went on.

At Mile 25, some kind of combination of adrenaline and autopilot had taken over and I was just walking.  Honestly, I don’t even remember the physical act of walking at that point.

Mile 26 came quickly and suddenly, I was at the finish line.  My parents met me at the finish line.  I got my medal and they took me to dinner.  My dad insisted I eat something, which I had no intention of doing, as I felt insane and disoriented.  I went to the restaurant thinking I was still walking.  I kept wondering why I had stopped walking.  I thought I was in dream where I would wake up walking.

I can’t even believe I’m about to say this, but this experience was kind of spiritual.  It was good for my soul and I felt cleansed by the whole thing.  Oh man.  I need to stop talking and post some funny pictures.

Here’s me with my number and my medal:

 

Yeah, never a dull moment around here.