. . . That’s the phraseology Rebecca will use to describe my mental state over the next six days.  Despite its idomatic succintness, I will grudgingly admit that it is, at times, a fair and accurate description.  As the seconds tick by on the Austin Marathon countdown (which is at 5:18:07:02 as I write this), in spurts, I find that I deteriorate into a nervous, suspicious, misophobic personality.   I suddenly realized that my, unintentional, Valentines Day gift to Rebecca this year is give her a glimpse of what it would be like to be married to Howard Hughes, minus the vast fortune (love you Hon!).

Seriously, though, I have entered that period of time before a big event after  all the preparation is complete but before that preparation has been ultimately tested.  Though I do freak out a little bit, I try and keep my sanity by focusing on those things that are within my control.  In this case, my options are pretty simple. I can either accept what I have done in training and go to the race ready and willing to test myself; or I can stay home and sleep in next Sunday morning.

Everything I have learned about facing challenges compels me to toe the line next Sunday.  I accept that my in executing my training plan I was not perfect, and I accept that there are countless occurrences that could stop me before reaching the finish line.  In accepting those things, however, I choose to bring my whole self to the starting line without complaint or excuses.  And, if I do that, I cannot truly fail.

So, I will say “Let the madness begin.” Because when it comes time to race, I will run with patience.