Saturday, December 3

90 minutes to race time

OK everybody, we're 90 minutes to race time.

In about an hour, I should be standing on Beale Street getting ready to go.

My brain - or maybe it's just one side of my brain - is frantically searching for things to worry about and be nervous about. But there's something else.

Excitement. Wonder. Joy. Accomplishment.

If I were at home, I'd just be out the door and running now. But then nobody would be waiting alongside the road to cheer. Or impersonate Elvis or the Beatles. Or to bellydance.

So I'm ready to just sit here for a while and let the excitement build.

And maybe I'll also have a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home