I slept the way I used to sleep on Christmas Eve. I slept the way I slept the night before my knee surgery. I was up every hour checking the clock making sure that I wasn't going to miss my alarm . . the way I do in a hotel room not wanting to miss my flight. God has never had me miss a flight . .but I still wake up.
The gun goes off at 7:30 . . I live an hour away from the starting line. I will be there early. I am going to drive there by myself, start by myself and be greeted by my family at the finish line. That is the way I want it. Leave in the dark by myself and return to my family.
I have had BIG days in my 42 year life. This is not one of them. Though this is one that I will always remember, this day isn't one that defines me. It is not a wedding, a funeral, a birth, an adoption, a baptism . . .it is not the day I fell in love, admitted an addiction, got my heart broken. It may appear as though I am downplaying the day for fear of not finishing - I'm not. I am merely pointing out that my life is far deeper than 26.2 miles. The things I don't like about myself at the starting line will be the same things I don't like about myself at the finish. And the things I DO like about myself at the starting line will be the same things I like about myself at the finish.
It is 4:30AM and I must finish getting ready.
