I arrived at the All American Marathon in Fayetteville cold, wet and undertrained. The half-marathon was my first race of 2018, despite ALS.
Surrounded by wounded warriors in handcycles, I was quietly humbled. Then, they took off as if shot out of the howitzer starting the race.
With my bike escort and 5,000 runners, we traversed downtown toward Fort Bragg. Military pride turned to reverence as we entered the Wear Blue Mile featuring photos of fallen soldiers and volunteers holding American flags. To me, freedom means movement, but the race reminded me that it encompasses so much more.