"Are you anxious or excited? How are you feeling?" a question last night by the Sweet Wife.
"I'm terrified." Sure the 'hay' is in the barn, but I am questions if I have enough hay, if it's the right kind of hay, Do I even like hay? This metaphor might be failing me.
The truck is packed. The list has been checked twice and then again. It is now deleted. There is nothing left to put in the truck. There is nothing left to do to test this body, to strengthen it. My mind is where it will be when I wake up tomorrow on the side of a dusty road in the dark agitation of headlamps and announcements and high knees. There is nothing left to do, but do this thing as well as I can. Qutting is always an option, but I hope that I don't choose it any time over the next two days. I guess I will see.
I am excited to see places I've never seen. I'm delighted to be witness to a sunrise (hopefully two) wherever I will be when it finds me. I am anxious to find out about the hills and what it feels like to climbe them. I am curious about the streams and rivers that will sustain me. I am hopeful there is someone really strong there and I can simply hop on their back for any number of miles.
I am the last thing on my "to pack" list. All thre is left to do is get in that truck and get on my way. To Plain I go.
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