I love the quote by Edmund Hillary, “It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.” Looking up at the mountain in front of me at mile 8 was daunting. I couldn’t help but wonder how in hell I was going to get up there! I knew that if I stopped it would be over. I pushed myself hard and huffed and puffed my way to the top. Turns out I am a great downhill runner. I was feeling pretty good after the mountain, kind of high, but then I bottomed out at mile 10.5. Everything hurt and it seemed like it would never end. At mile 11.5 my dad sent me a text that said “one step at a time”. I started to cry. Crying and running is impossible. My throat was closing and I couldn’t breathe, so I had to stop crying. It makes me laugh now. I am sure not many people know you can’t cry and run. I had spent months thinking about this, worrying about this and now it was almost over. My adrenaline kicked in when I saw 3 people from our running club cheer as I went by. The first person I saw at the finish line was my trainer. The guy that I tortured weekly, who pushed me past my comfort zone. It felt great to see his face. My family was next, dead center. My mom crying, my kids smiling, my friend taking pictures. It was the moment that I had dreamed about. This was my dream with a deadline. I was not the most prepared or the most in shape, but I really wanted this, and that is all it takes. I don’t know what is next, but whatever it is I know I can do it.