I actually ran 26.2 miles on Sunday! YES, I did it! The entire four hours and 40 minutes was an experience I will NEVER forget – the sounds, the people, my thoughts and feelings.

The 26.2-mile journey began at the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge in Staten Island with the song New York, New York blasting out of the speakers. "Start spreading the news" resonated as everyone stripped of their sweatshirts and sweatpants as the cannon shot went off. How amazing to start with thousands of other runners crossing over the water with helicopters by your side, the view of the city and what was ahead! Purely breathtaking!

Brooklyn was the most lively and charismatic with bands on every other corner and races of people who looked you in the eye and said, "You got this Caroline, you go girl!" They only wanted to see us succeed!! Thousands of people were cheering for us along Fourth Avenue as well as Lafayette – young and old of every different ethnic background as well as neighbors who offered fresh cut oranges and tissues to wipe the sweat off our faces. I’ve never come across such a pure, positive energy. Amazing.

Entering mile 15, heading into Manhattan was rough with a steep hill across the 59th Street bridge, but entering the Manhattan crowds was a sound I will never forget. The cheers echoed at the end of the bridge before I could see the mass amounts of people cheering for us as we ran onto First Avenue. Chills ran down my spine and you then thought, ok this is what I’ve heard about... Can I go home now? Then I saw Kevin, my brother Paul, Mom and Melissa and Michael – what a joy to see some familiar faces as I ran over to give them a wave. Got to keep going.

Heading into the Bronx was lonely, but my training carried me through the grueling 19-20 mile wall, which I never really hit too hard. I remember overhearing someone say, “Ok, this is where you have to dig deep.”

Coming down Fifth Avenue was exhilarating, and it meant I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Then I saw my friends Jill and Roger at mile 22/23 and it really reinforced that I was going to finish, I was doing this. They believed in me, my friends were there.

At around mile 23.5, tears came streaming down my face as my friend Laura joined me through Central Park the feeling of not being alone during a moment of despair and doubt just overwhelmed me. After mile 25, when she dropped off, she yelled from the sidelines, “I’m still here girl!” as she ran to my right through the sideline of people, letting me know I wasn’t alone. A moment I will never forget as I kept looking for her out of the corner of my eye.

But, the last 400 meters was one of the most emotional experiences of my life. I absolutely refused to walk to the finish line, suffering was not an option. By this time the crowd’s cheers and encouragement were muffled, almost as if I were in a slow motion movie. I was left with myself the woman who had trained for 14 weeks – through the heat, rain, exhaustion and demanding work responsibilities; the girl that had doubts about finishing at mile 16 as I made my way across the 59th Street bridge into Manhattan; the runner that persevered through the pain in my hamstring at mile 24; the person who lost all feeling in my hands at mile 25; and the hero who was relieved and overjoyed to run across the finish line as I held my head up with both my hands across my forehead. And as you can imagine, every emotion I’ve ever felt came out with tears flowing.

I just ran 26.2 miles through five boroughs of New York City, and I had my family and friends with me. What an amazing day!

Thank you for all of your support.

Caroline