Of marathons and dreams.

Yesterday was the annual New York City Marathon.  Elite runners aside, the NYC Marathon is made up of the tens of thousands of little stories about endurance and heart that see runners  pursuing their dreams of completing the 26-mile course through the streets of the five boroughs.

It’s a day when runners are cheered on by the crowds of New Yorkers lining the route; clapping and pulling for the ones that seem tired or lagging, and reading all the special dreams on people’s T-shirts.  We recognize ourselves in those dreams; of work we pursue with dogged determination and grit, or friends we know and love who endure hardship.

We are each marathoners in one way or another in how we ply our boards day after day to accomplish goals large and small.  For the boxer, it’s not so much the fight as the pursuit of perfection in each jab thrown in the daily grind of the gym.

To my mind, yesterday was a celebration for all us who push to accomplish something, so congratulations to all of us for getting the job done.