10:00AM, Saturday, June 22nd, 2013
First, my feet ached, then they burned, now they feel like fire.
It is a short walk from the library to the art museum, and each step becomes more agonizing as I go. I want to take off my boots and go home. Here in the twenty third hour, I consider giving up. But I am so close.
My bag feels like it has melded to my back, and my camera is like soft leather in my hands. I can feel my body starting the slow process of giving up. It is sending me every message it can that my journey is over. But I have one more hour.
At the art museum, people are running up and down the stairs. Some of them are tourists, giving it a go for fun, some of them are athlete running up and down the stairs, building endurance.
I started running years ago, and while no one would look at me and call me fit, I am a runner. I run often, and running has taught me profound lessons about pain. endurance, and stretching my will over my body. My feet are on fire, but I have learned lessons about pain that carry me up those stairs and back down again.
I watch a crowd of Rollerbladers take off together. I walk to my car to spend hour 24 in one of my favorite places in the city.