To say I'm a bundle of nerves is the understatement of the year. I'm nervous and excited all at the same time.

My anticipation is similar to anticipating giving birth, for the second or third time around. You've already done it at least once, and you know it's going to hurt like hell, there will be people around to assist you, but ultimately, it's just you and the event to get through. No, I won't be running alone, actually, there are hundreds of people scheduled to 'give birth' with me, but it's me who's responsible for most of the work (well, all of it actually), but in the end, just like the new Mommy, I'll also get the most joy out of the end result.
My five-mile baby will be born tomorrow. My 'labor' is scheduled to be induced at 7:45 a.m. When it's all over, instead of a bruised bum, I'll have blistered feet and I'll be very tired and drenched in sweat. I'll be expected to get up and move around soon after the race is over and I'll be encouraged to drink lots and lots of fluids. And get this: I'll be sent home immediately afterward. I fully intend to come home and take a nap after the delivery.
We'll celebrate the 4th of July in the Flowers household with a good old fashioned cookout. Nothing fancy, Marigold will marinate some chicken breasts tonight and throw them on the grill with some hamburgers and a few pieces of corn on the cob. Then we'll head out to a local lake to watch fireworks with a few thousand of our neighbors. Good times.
All the while, I'll be celebrating my own independence.

I dedicate my race tomorrow to the chubby little girl (who still resides inside me) who was once too afraid to run, and who now can't seem to stop.


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