If I had been able to stay uninjured, I would be running down Peachtree Avenue. As things are, I am back at my host’s home, having run the half marathon in a respectable 1:51 by my timing.

The race itself was a grand experience. Unlike the 10 mile race in September, this was a big event, with thousands of runners. As rosy-fingered dawn broke, we began running, moving from the suburbs into downtown Atlanta and finishing at Turner field under the Olympic rings. The course was interesting, and most importantly I felt great. As the miles passed I felt myself getting stronger. As I approached the finish line, the announcer called my name: “Jeffrey Radcliffe, from Somerville, Maine.” Well, can’t have it all.

I wish that getting to the race was as easy. After cutting back on training because of the ankle, I was demoralized. The weather turned cold, the light dark. Getting out the door became harder and harder. Soon I was demoralized and afraid that I wouldn’t even be able to finish the 13 mile race. There were a lot of times I wanted to give up.

I didn’t give up. I finished with strength, and I think it is the boost I need to keep running for the rest of the winter. It is my hope that this time next year I will still be running.