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I was never really into athletics growing up. I wasn't very coordinated, despite my father being an excellent athlete and mother being a dancer. I also wasn't a big sports fan, so I barely understood the rules of the games. This was a bit hard on me in sixth grade when sports were very important to adolescent boys. Let's just say that I was the one playing chess during lunch.

However when spring rolled around, I discovered something about myself in P.E. class. I was fast. Really fast. All of a sudden I was the best at something physical and I fell in love with running.

I was a sprinter who eventually developed into a quarter-miler. Because of artistic pursuits, I stopped running in high school but I missed it very much. It wasn't so much the competition with other runners, it was about pushing my body as hard as I could and seeing how much better I could be.

After college, I started to run as an exercise. I never ran long distances before but it struck as a cheap way to stay in shape and keep my growing beer belly in check. It was also an excellent way to explore Brooklyn. When the weather was nice, I would run after work following the setting sun along the waterfront. I skipped the park and went for cobblestone streets, brownstones, projects, and industrial deserts.

If I had time, I found I could run for hours, clearing my head of the stresses of the day. I could also use the time to reflect on ideas or problems or dream of new projects. I learned how to push my body and demand new strengths that I was not aware of before. It was therapy. And all you needed was a good pair of shoes and a strong heart.

Tomorrow is the New York City Marathon and I am not running but a very special person in my life is. This is her first one and she is obviously nervous. Hell, I'm nervous for her. But I know she is going to have an amazing time and she will be great. As will the thousands of others from around the world, who get to hit our great streets.

Good Luck Corie. I'll be the obnoxiously loud fan in Park Slope.
See you at the finish line.