Last night I realized (again?) that I’m going to die. And it made me sad to think that I won’t be around to see how any and all things progress to their ultimate ends. Even in my own city. It came from reading the Sunday paper – an article about the city where I live is potentially heading in the next 30 years. Yes, given a healthy existence and no 16-wheelers to run me over, I should be around to see 2033, but I was talking about AFTER.
It’s kind of like when Rae doesn’t want to go to bed. She’s afraid she’ll miss something … I can remember that feeling growing up and I suppose it’s the same for dying.
On another note, I had my first Ironman Triathlon nightmare on Saturday night. I finished the swim in a comfortable split, but couldn’t find my bike right away, and neither could the volunteers. I looked down at my watch after getting to talking to people (Lynn, family, etc.) and I had been in transition for over an hour and a half.
I guess that means all is well with the world and I’m right on track for my goals.
