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Going to Chicago

I'm en route to Chicago, floating among the puffs of clouds and just a hand reach away from the bright, burning sun. Other runners are on my flight. I know this by their promotional garb, worn proudly, and I realize that I forgot my own t-shirt that my mom and her sisters sent me as a gift of support and encouragement. I kick myself for forgetting the shirt, but I'm soon reminded of the many different people in my life who helped get me here.

There is my running group, who by their mere presence and their own achievements have encouraged and enhanced my training for the past several months; my family, who has offered support and comfort in uncountable ways throughout this process; my coworkers, who have cheered me on for each weekend's long run and cared enough to inquire about my progress along the way; and my friends, who have at times trained with me, commiserated with me, and offered their hospitality during my stay in the Windy City. While I'm going to this race by myself, I am by no means alone. In fact, I just might be one of the best-supported runners out there. And I'm forever grateful.

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