It was a beautiful Colorado fall Sunday morning and I'm slowly driving – should have biked I know – the eight blocks south of my home to the gym. Suddenly, my path is blocked: the fourth Denver Marathon is weaving through the neighborhood. "How far into the race are they?" I asked the police officer directing traffic and safeguarding the runners. "They're about halfway." he answers with a grin.
Idling in my car, waiting for them to pass, I thought of my own marathon experiences, I've run three...
Published on November 02, 2009 04:52