There is nowhere in the world where one runs a marathon in a more loving and nurturing environment than in the TBR DM. The pacers, the dream chasers, the hydration station attendants, the organizers, the fellow runners, the families, the onlookers, everyone was cheering at us and buoying our spirits up, as if our dream-come-true is theirs too. Some runners faltered along the way, labored painfully, grappled with injuries, struggled with each mile, but these people kept them on, pushed them literally…Each of us runners were facing our own bout but we moved as if we were one spirit, straining into one direction and wanting every comrade of the road to finish too. In the TBR DM, everyone who crosses the finish line is a winner and everyone who steps on the thin line that defines a marathoner owns the limelight to himself. There was no competition there, only a contest against oneself, and there, we conquered. And as we did, our families and friends and supporters roared and hugged and held because our victory became theirs.
