All marathons can be divided into two types: those where you achieve your impossible dream, and those where you fall short. The second group far outnumbers the first, as veteran marathoners understand. I’m speaking from personal experience. Yes, it was a thrill to win the 1968 Boston Marathon. The 75 marathons since then? Not always so ecstatic. And yet, like most marathoners, I can’t stop dreaming. We are seekers, we are doers, we are optimists. And so I started last October’s Athens Classic Marathon with a pie-in-the-sky fantasy– that my wife, my son, and I would finish together in the historic Panathinaiko Stadium. Cristina would be running her first marathon in 11 years. My son, Dan, a buff gym rat, would be running his first road race, period. I would be hobbling along after a recent knee surgery. What’s a heaven for?
