It is still worth it. All the runners, the causes, the frozen yogurt bars, the coffee mug, the personal cheering stations, the way it makes me feel, the fundraising goal, the sense of achievement, the measuring stick of my persistence.

You can support me on my 11th run from bar to bar on Cape Cod by joining my effort to raise money for Cystic Fibrosis. The dollars raised have had an incredible impact on the lives of people, some of whom I know, and people that you probably know.

This will be my fourth effort on behalf of Cystic Fibrosis and although I know I only play a small part in the cause, it could make a difference in someone's life.

Everyone who donates $100 or more, will also receive a copy of the audiobook version of ‘Observations at the Speed of Life’ as a gift.

I am hopeful that the audiobook will be released in July or August.

As I approach my 74th birthday, I am grateful that I am able to run this race, and grateful for your support. Thanks.

Can't wait for the frozen yogurt bar at the finish line.

The phrase “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother” has been in the background of my life since I was seven or eight years old. 

Although the March of Dimes was the first non-profit organization I learned about, by helping my mom collect door to door in the Mother’s March to raise money to find a cure for polio, Boys Town in Nebraska was the second organization I discovered that was doing noble work.

My mother’s uncle, the one who helped raise her, told me about Boys Town when he made a donation. They sent back stamps or stickers you could use to seal envelopes in appreciation.

On those stickers were the words and an image of an older boy carrying a younger boy. 

No idea why Uncle made a donation or why I became aware of that donation, but it stuck with me, and over the years, I've also made a donation or two.

Boys Town was founded 1917 as an orphanage for boys by Edward J. Flanagan, a Roman Catholic priest.

Using a loan of $90, he first rented a home in Omaha, to care for five boys. From that humble beginning, hundreds of thousands of boys and girls have benefitted from the organization as it evolved over the years with multiple locations and goals.

But it wasn't until the 1940s, when the words were adopted and adapted as "He ain't heavy, Father, he's my brother", as a slogan.

According to the Boys Town website, the phrase was said to Fr. Flanagan in 1918 by one of the residents while carrying another up a set of stairs. The boy being carried is said to have had polio and worn leg braces.

I was "today years old" when I learned that polio, the disease that the March of Dimes set out to eliminate, and Boys Town were linked this way.

And, although my original awareness of the phrase was almost 70 years ago, I think it influenced my personality at a young age to realize that there are some things that matter more than others.

When I was 18, the Hollies had a big hit song with those words in the title, and I always turned it up when it was on the radio.

The song reinforced the concept for me and helped me understand that there are some things that matter a lot more than others. The lyrics:

The road is long

With many a winding turn

That leads us to who knows where?

Who knows where?

But I'm strong

Strong enough to carry him

He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So, on we go

His welfare is my concern

No burden is he to bear

We'll get there

For I know

He would not encumber me

He ain't heavy, he's my brother

If I'm laden at all

I'm laden with sadness

That everyone's heart

Isn't filled with the gladness

Of love for one another

It's a long, long road

From which there is no return

While we're on the way to there

Why not share?

And the load

Doesn't weigh me down at all

He ain't heavy, he's my brother

The message I took away at that young age is when there are some times and some things where we are strong enough to carry, even if it might appear to someone else to be a burden, it doesn’t weigh us down at all.

For sure, the road is long, with many a winding turn, but there are roles where someone’s welfare is our main concern, and we're on our way to there, so why not share?

But, ‘he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother’ , metaphorically speaking, really can be rephrased in so many ways:

• She ain’t heavy, she’s my sister.
• She ain’t heavy, she’s my mother.
• She ain’t heavy, she’s my daughter.
• She ain’t heavy, she’s my friend.
• He ain’t heavy, he’s my father.
• He ain’t heavy, he’s my son.
• He ain’t heavy, he’s my friend.

And what happens as we move through life, we are or will be taking care of someone else, or someone else is, or will be taking care of us.

The imagery of two young boys easily morphs into an image of a sister caring for a brother with Parkinson’s, or a brother helping a brother who has had a stroke, or brothers and sisters coming together to help an aging mother, or a father helping a wheelchair bound son.  

At least, those are the things that have already happened in my life.

None are too heavy when love is involved. 

Sometimes we all need to do the lifting, but at other times, we 'll need to be carried.

So, the next time you see a parent pushing a child in a wheelchair, or someone helping an elderly man or woman out of a car, or someone feeding someone who can’t feed themselves, you might want to remember that what you are witnessing is a heart filled with the gladness of love for another.

If you think about it, “he’s not heavy, he’s my brother” or one of its equivalents, is perhaps the most noble phrase you can ever use.