Living One Emergency at a Time

Because he’s racing and pacing and plotting the course
He’s fighting and biting and riding on his horse.
He’s going the distance.


-Cake, Going the Distance


Late at night, my heart is racing. I am tracing a path through a map that I have taped to my wall.

Here. I know what this looks like.

I’ll be making a stop here.

Right there will be my limit. I’ll have to push through.

I am running a marathon in less than a week. And though registering provided an initial impetus for training, it died off after I read how apparently easy it is to run a marathon.

How foolish.

Now, with one week to go, I am suddenly realizing what I signed up for. It’s no longer an option to train – my mind and body have aligned. If I don’t transform into someone wholly different from who I was a few days ago, I won’t be ready mentally. Realistically, there’s very little I can do physically except avoid injury.

So I’m transforming. My mind and my body are reacting, changing, reshaping for the task ahead.

In a way, I’m panicking. But I feel more alive than ever. It’s just like the week before my long walk, or the week I had to finish NaNoWriMo. Until I have a week left, it’s not real. But when it is real, the¬†exhilaration¬†drives me to try to be better than I have ever been before. Someday, I’ll be able to keep this drive throughout longer periods of time. But until then, I’m happy.

Happy living one emergency at a time.