I run because I have one last great race left in me...

It has been nearly two years since I laid it on the line. It has been nearly two years since I fell short. It was not the finish I envisioned.

Two years have passed.The bones groan more. Joints creak more.

My muscles complain more vociferously. Recovery requires more. Fatigue comes more quickly.

I can't stand toe to toe quite the same way. I don't have as many haymakers in me as I once did. I rarely feel spry.

I could let it go. Maybe I should. Maybe all of my bests are behind me.

I could live with that. But, I would also have to live with the knowledge that I didn't end things on my terms. I don't know if I can live with that.

Maybe something is left. The wheels can still turn. Sometimes I can coax them to fly.

Creaks and groans are abundant, but I can ignore them. I can filter them. They are just an annoyance.

I can still endure. I can still suffer. I can still fight. I can still fly.

Maybe there is something left. It may take everything I have. It may require things I have never done before.

Doing things you've never done before is part of what defines a runner. I am well acquainted with this territory. It's familiar.

There is at least a vague possibility that I have one last great race in me. This vague, faint, remote, half baked possibility keeps me on board. It keeps me coming back.

I run because I have one last great race in me.....