Walking the Plank ...
The anxiety level is at about a seven, judging from last night's dreams. When I woke up, I was just happy that I 1) hadn't, in fact, lost one running shoe, 2) did not accidentally drive my car onto a running path and then hit a turn and flip it over, and 3) I am not suddenly re-embroiled in a break up that took place four years ago. After all that, a marathon doesn't sound half bad.
It's about 2 p.m. now, roughly 24 hours from what should be my final stretch.
I really am excited. Yesterday, I told the lone senator who was on Capitol Hill that I was running the marathon. He said "oh, gosh, why would anyone want to do that?"
When he was walking away, though, he turned around and said "next time I see you, you'll be a marathoner!"
Yeah, that's true.
Last night, it stormed, which was nice because if I can't go out, nobody else should get to, either. I cuddled up with an afghan (blanket, not immigrant) and watched a good-but-disturbing movie about wayward preteens.
This morning, I had a very solemn ceremony for the ironing of D-A-P-H-N-E onto my race shirt (it's pale pink for those of you who will be looking for me). Then, I put on my whole outfit, which felt vaguely Miss. Havishamish, but I needed to do that so I could pin my number in the right place. I have no excuse for trying on the devil horns that I intend to wear tomorrow, except ... am I made of stone?
That's right, my whole Halloween costume consists of these silly horns. It's a significant departure from previous years, obviously. In fact, when I thought I wasn't going to run the race, I busied myself in the creation of my trademark Halloween brilliance. I would have to say this was my greatest sacrifice for the marathon.
I was going to be Evil Spinach -- impressed? Topical, elaborate, creepy, conceptual -- it had all the necessary elements. Next year, it won't make sense anymore, and who wants a year-old costume anyway? Maybe I'll come up with some other leafy green costume.
Well, this is it for now. If I am super on the ball in the morning, I might check in here before I head out, but I don't want to promise anything.
I think this is going to be good. Thanks for sticking with me this far. I'll make us proud tomorrow.
-d
ps
Now it's about 2:30. Maybe at this time tomorrow, I'll be a marathoner.
It's about 2 p.m. now, roughly 24 hours from what should be my final stretch.
I really am excited. Yesterday, I told the lone senator who was on Capitol Hill that I was running the marathon. He said "oh, gosh, why would anyone want to do that?"
When he was walking away, though, he turned around and said "next time I see you, you'll be a marathoner!"
Yeah, that's true.
Last night, it stormed, which was nice because if I can't go out, nobody else should get to, either. I cuddled up with an afghan (blanket, not immigrant) and watched a good-but-disturbing movie about wayward preteens.
This morning, I had a very solemn ceremony for the ironing of D-A-P-H-N-E onto my race shirt (it's pale pink for those of you who will be looking for me). Then, I put on my whole outfit, which felt vaguely Miss. Havishamish, but I needed to do that so I could pin my number in the right place. I have no excuse for trying on the devil horns that I intend to wear tomorrow, except ... am I made of stone?
That's right, my whole Halloween costume consists of these silly horns. It's a significant departure from previous years, obviously. In fact, when I thought I wasn't going to run the race, I busied myself in the creation of my trademark Halloween brilliance. I would have to say this was my greatest sacrifice for the marathon.
I was going to be Evil Spinach -- impressed? Topical, elaborate, creepy, conceptual -- it had all the necessary elements. Next year, it won't make sense anymore, and who wants a year-old costume anyway? Maybe I'll come up with some other leafy green costume.
Well, this is it for now. If I am super on the ball in the morning, I might check in here before I head out, but I don't want to promise anything.
I think this is going to be good. Thanks for sticking with me this far. I'll make us proud tomorrow.
-d
ps
Now it's about 2:30. Maybe at this time tomorrow, I'll be a marathoner.
posted by Daphne at 11:07 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home