Good luck, runners! On this day of the New York City Marathon, we remember years ago, when we too joined the tens of thousands who sprinted across the Verrazano Narrows before stretching out into a line of hope and desperation that snaked through the five boroughs. Then of course we were strong and idealistic enough to run marathons; we had the power and courage and discipline to break through the vaunted walls that would always hit somewhere around Mile 21, when we crossed out of the Bronx and into Harlem. But now that we’re older, the thought of such a physically punishing regime no longer entices us; rather, it reminds us of the even more punishing marathon of life, and the truly impenetrable walls we must always face.