Bedtime dreams

I remember the night I told Travis to reserve the days surrounding April 20, 2015 just in case I qualified for the Boston Marathon. It happened months and months ago -- well over a year. I had yet to sign up for Grandma's Marathon, the race that would eventually solidify my date with Boston

But there we were, lying in his tiny bed, discussing future things. We'd only recently reconciled after a short, but highly inadvisable, split, and my insides felt fuzzy just dreaming of future things, nonetheless my dream of running the Boston Marathon with Travis along for the journey. 

At the time, it felt as hypothetical as it was. It was still 2013, after all. The plan was a maybe. A hopefully. But it felt good. 

Every so often he'd ask for a reminder of the date of the race, just in case. I'd smile thinking about it. April 20, 2015. So far away.

Now here we are, one day shy of leaving for that once-hypothetical trip to Boston. On Monday, April 20, 2015, I will run the Boston Marathon with Travis along for the journey. 

It's our first vacation together; his first flight (except for that time we jumped out of the airplane, also highly inadvisable). While booking our flights, I selflessly gave him the window seat on all four flights.

Just kidding, it was totally selfish of me. I just want to watch him experience the sky.

Mostly, I can't wait to watch him experience everything. All the things that are amazing to me, I get to share with him this weekend. This dream trip for this dream race in my very element. 

Last night we laid in (our much, much larger) bed, talking excitedly about our adventure and commiserating over how much we'd miss our cat while we're gone. Tonight we'll pack up our suitcases, and I'll sleep like an excitable toddler the night before Christmas, which is to say I probably won't sleep at all. 

I guess I'm just so thankful for this life right now.

From the moment I finished the Madison Marathon in the fall of 2013, lighting a fire inside that wouldn't burn out until I got to the Boston Marathon starting line, to the moment we set aside the dates for our hypothetical Boston vacation, to the moment I checked us into our flights this afternoon.

Everything is awesome, The LEGO Movie was right. 

Mostly, I'm so happy my lovable, Chicken-doting partner-in-life-things gets to share it all with me.

Travis, my parents, and my sister will all await me at the finish line, which is basically equivalent to leaping off a cloud into a pile of glitter and puffy hearts after running 26.2 miles. Those are the four best people in the whole wide world waiting for me. 

I finally feel ready. My legs are back and feeling strong. Where three weeks once felt too soon, five days now seems too far away. It's here. Only now, I don't want it to be over. I have looked forward to this very day for actually ever. 

When the post-race blues hit after Grandma's Marathon, I told myself, "there's still Boston." When the glow of the Fall 50 wore off in October, I told myself, "there's still Boston." 

But what happens after Boston?

I AM NOT PREPARED. 

So for now I'll soak up the excitement and daydream about Boylston Street and the hundreds of dollars I'm going to spend at the race expo. And the new friends I'm going to hug the shit out of when I find them. And jumping on the hotel bed. And laughing and running and, let's be real, crying my face off when it's over -- with joy. 

I'm going to run my hardest on Monday, and whatever comes of that will come. Maybe it'll be my best. Maybe it won't. But what it will be is my very big dream come true, and I get to share it with the people I love most. 

Except Chicken. Goddammit, I'm going to miss Chicken.

Want to follow along on race day? Text 15415 to 234567 for text alerts of my progress.

Today and every day: #BostonStrong