The thing about Detroit is there are a lot of places where you can easily become crippled with sadness; when you let history and wistfulness bear down upon your shoulders to suck hope out of you. As someone who feels everything acutely, the knowledge of what was and how we’ll never get back to exactly where we once were can be suffocating for someone who cares deeply about the city.

I found myself struggling with this concept the past few weeks. I don’t like it. While you inevitably can’t help how you feel, I’ve been actively trying to shift it. I’m not delusional about the realities of what we face in the coming decades, but I’ve chosen to not let it drown me.

I’ve been finding inspiration in Detroit instead.

The other thing about Detroit is there’s nothing short of an abundance of material here to be inspired by. Even for the greatest pessimists, the most unruly of skeptics.

Some are grand concepts, others are everyday people. Take for instance my experience volunteering at the Detroit Free Press /Talmer Bank Marathon in mid-October. Just TRY to not be inspired at a marathon. I dare you.

I, along with several other Challenge Detroit fellows, signed-up to help with the finish line clean-up, not to be mistaken with the glamorous finish line shift where volunteers get to be pure unadulterated cheerleaders. We were there to help with the equally important task of cleaning up after the runners were finished to bring the city back to status quo.

Was clearly pumped to be in charge of the “E” sign for a brief moment!

However, there were runners trickling in while we were breaking everything down. For the most part we stayed out of their way and let them finish. The crowd dwindled as time passed, tables were broken down and banana peels were picked up. As we inched closer to disassembling the actual finish line, we got wind there was a final runner still on the course. No one was sure of his number, his name, or even if he was doing the half or full marathon. We kept on working.

The volunteers, us as well as the coordinators and finish line volunteer stragglers, decided we were going to give him a well-deserved welcome back. It didn’t matter that the clock had stopped running and most of the runners finished hours ago; this runner was entitled to fanfare. I was ecstatic. Humans are good.

The best part was the runner. The final runner’s name is Giles Wilborn, who has been doing marathons for years – he did the Detroit Marathon last year. Running the final leg and seeing us all there cheering for him brought an expression to his face simultaneously delighted and bewildered. It was like he was thrilled we were there but couldn’t believe it. His first words when he crossed the finish line were, “I’m sorry you guys had to wait for me.” I started crying.

He had just completed his 44^th (and by his own words last) full marathon at 73 years old and he apologized for keeping us. Hugs were given.We congratulated him and of course donned him with his medal. Before I went back to breaking down the finish line, I told him I felt honored to witness his accomplishment, meet him, and would have been lucky to wait even longer to see it.

I haven’t been able to shake his spirit and perseverance.

Giles is only the beginning of incredible people I’ve met and have yet to meet here. Stay tuned.