At age 48, a half-marathon hurts like a marathon did at age 23.
But, thanks to your kind prayers, I crossed in one piece.
We ran past the Civil-War Battle-of-Chattanooga cemetery, among other resting places of the dead, so I said a lot of prayers. And the loving souls helped me get to the finish.
If you count all the marathons I have run as two, then throw in all the half-marathons, your unworthy servant just finished my twenty-second half-marathon.
Heading to church for Mass, and I feel like the king of the world. Praised be Jesus Christ!