It’s my favorite time of day right now - that moment at dusk, just before the sun sets completely from the sky. All of the trees are black shadows against a periwinkle blue, with tinges of the palest rose and peach. As I reflect on today, I am proud, I am amazed, I am at peace, I am complete.

I ran my first race today, a 5K along the western part of the D&R Canal in Titusville, NJ. The temperature was chilly, to be sure, but the sun played it’s part well. Nerves were my constant companion throughout the early morning hours, until check in was complete. Only then was I able to begin to relax and ride the wave.

Oh, that elusive wave finally made its way to the shore of my heart today. The smells, the sounds, the sights. Multi-colored shirts, shoes of every design, people of every age, ability and build. As the anticipation built and I took my place at the starting line, I just let myself get lost in the thrill of the moment.

Before I knew it, my feet were running under me, what could I do but follow where they led? Up a hill, past lovely houses and quaint shops and an old church in a tiny canal town. The comforting smell of a wood burning fire as I passed the first mile mark. The camaraderie of others around me, individuals, strangers, bonded together through a simple 3.1 mile race.

Perhaps not so simple. What journeys had others gone to get them to this moment? Did they fight injuries as I had? Conquer prejudices, self-doubt, fears? I had lost 85 pounds to get to this moment. No doubt there were some who came a lot farther to this moment than I, but all of that melted away as my feet rhythmically ran on the gravel beneath me.

As I rounded the corner for the last leg of the race, I began to realize that I was going to finish, perhaps even meeting or exceeding my personal goals. All of the anxiety, the hours of workouts, the sacrifice of free time, became worth it in a brilliant flash of an instant.

The finish line neared, and seeing those who went before me, motivated me to kick it into high gear. Did I have enough left in me? A wonderfully encouraging soul on the side of the trail yelled out, "Let the finish line pull you in!". I could do nothing else but oblige.

Changing the music on my iPod to something with a driving beat, I gave it all I had left in me. My dear friend met me at the last few hundred feet and ran it with me. Feet flying, heart pumping, head held high, I crossed the finish line.

35 minutes, 45 seconds.

I am a runner.