Last Saturday, in St. George, Utah, I ran my 13th
marathon in yet another attempt to achieve my frustratingly elusive goal to
qualify for the Boston Marathon.
I failed—again.
Now it is time to write the blog post I hoped I wouldn’t
have to write. Here goes…
Strange as it might sound, my lucky number is actually 13. So many things leading up to the race had
portended a positive result. I felt it
was my time. After all the work and waiting and adjustment
and gained experience, I felt I had earned it.
I had convinced myself that the 13th time would be the charm
in my nearly 4-year long quest to qualify for the marathon.
It WASN’T.
