Mile 26

Oh, hi.

Recently I compared this stage of my life's journey to a marathon and said I was at the 18th mile. Well, I think I just hit mile 26. 

It only took me seven months.

I've got 0.2 to go, folks. 

And they may take another seven months.

In my experience, the last .2 miles seem like the longest leg of a race. You can see the finish line, are surrounded by hundreds of screaming bystanders, and feel relief flood your body as you begin to taste the victory of completion.

But your legs ache. Your throat is parched. Your stomach is churning. Your sweat-soaked clothes are rubbing and reeking in the worst ways. Oh, and you have salt face. 

You just ran 26 miles. Why does the final .2 feel interminable?

Because you're so close...you're almost there. Those words become your repetitive mantra. You hold your head up high, remind yourself of the strength and stamina that got you safely to where you are, and put one foot in front of the other.

And before you know it, you're crossing the finish line. In all of your hard-fought, long-suffering, well-earned, beautiful glory.