As I ran the Clayton Road Race on Saturday, my lone inspiration to keep running was the thought of savoring a chocolate donut after I crossed the finish line.

Sweat was pouring down my red cheeks, my chest felt like it was going to explode, and my knees felt they would buckle with the next step. But I kept going — all for the thrill of a donut.

I prepared myself for the five-kilometer race — 3.1 miles — by running on a treadmill at a gym last week. I started off running one mile, then one and a half, and by Friday, I was able to make it two miles without stopping. So I figured the race through downtown Clayton would be a piece of cake.

At the sound of a gunshot, 156 people took off from in front of The Clayton Center. It was easy to spot the professional numbers. They dressed the part, and they quickly raced past the rest of the runners, including mothers with strollers and young couples.

Early on, I was feeling confident, until I reached the hill on Fayetteville Street. At that point, the “piece of cake” became that donut dangling at the finish line. I stopped on the hill for a gulp of water.

In the distance, I could hear the crowd cheering the other runners as they crossed the finish line. As people in their 50s and young children passed me, I dipped into my reserves and began sprinting. I was not going to finish last in the only race I had ever run.

My arms went up in the air, a smile spread across my face, and I shrieked with excitement as I was the 135th runner to finish the race, in 36 minutes and 35 seconds. Crossing the finish line was one of the greatest feelings I’d ever had. Edward Vick, a 26-year-old from Rocky Mount, knew that feeling too. He was first overall in the race, crossing the finish line in 19 minutes and eight seconds — about half my time.

Vick runs 40 to 50 miles per week, mostly to stay in shape. For most races, he doubles that number to build up his strength and endurance. That is what I call dedication.

Then again, all of the runners were dedicated — youth soccer players, town officials, business owners, moms and dads committed to making a healthy difference in their lives. Not one person quit the race; they finished with their muscles burning but with their heads held high.

What about that donut? At some point in the race, the craving for a donut gave way to a hunger to finish what I had started. I wanted to show the world — and myself — that I could run 3.1 miles without falling to the pavement. Just as important, I was to be proud of myself for trying something new.

Besides, a donut is a poor choice for a reward. All of the calories would go to my thighs, and I would need to run another road race to shed them. No thanks.