Raised Eyebrows

The orange and white backgrounds of My Bib meet to form a picture of the San Francisco skyline. There is a girl - a woman - running in the upper right corner. She is flexing her arms more than she is pumping them. She is strong.

1066. What a good number. An embarrassingly good number. I should be up in the first coral at The Start. Standing next to women who are going to run tomorrow's race at 6:30 - 9:00 pace. The strong women.

My Bib is suspicious of me. She (My Bib is a she) is giving me the eye. The "66" part of the "1066" looks like some eyes with raised eyebrows. And those eyes seem to be asking many questions...

1. Are you going to embarrass us tomorrow?
2. And where do you think you'll be in twelve hours? Sitting on the bus back to Union Square or running with all of your heart towards Mile 18?
3. Are you a total idiot?
4. Why are you about to DO this to yourself?

Because Phase Five has been about taking risks. Plunging head over heels into that which is new and scary for me. Doing what makes me feel uncomfortable. Focusing less on being "prepared" and more on being READY. Making decisions and not second-guessing. Turning heads. Raising eyebrows...

And thus, Phase Five has produced the Holy Shit Moments. Those moments that are scary and awesome. Those moments that render me near speechless, save the muttering, "What have I done?" Those moments that instinctively cause MY head to shake. MY eyebrows to raise.

I am actually quite calm considering all 26.2 miles that lie ahead tomorrow. This calm may very well prove to be the calm before the storm. Alternatively, it could just be the calm that has developed throughout Phase Five - the calm that stems from knowing that no matter what, THIS is going to be good.

My Bib, we must go to bed. So please lower those eyebrows until tomorrow...