Twenty Six Point Two

For the last three months, Jeff has been training for a marathon. In fact, the marathon is tomorrow.

I will never again be so happy to watch someone run 26.2 miles and then celebrate with a big juicy steak.

Jeff is very cautious right now about EVERYTHING. Over the last week, he declared that he is in a "bubble."

He doesn't want to drink after anyone because he doesn't want to get sick.

He doesn't want to clip his nails for fear that he will get an ingrown toe nail.

Starbucks was off limits because caffiene would dehydrate him.

No orange juice either, because that might over-hydrate him.

Yesterday, he reluctantly agreed to go to Target even though he worried it would tire his legs. Apparently, walking and standing in the electronics section is "MUCH harder than running 26 miles."

I find that hard to believe, because if strolling the aisles of Target could burn as many calories as running a marathon, I'd be a supermodel.

He declared last Monday that we would be eating the same thing everyday this week so that he stays "regular."

Tomorrow there is a 90% chance of rain with a high of 47 degrees. Brrrrr. As I type this, he's pacing and worried and looking up every weather website online.

Although he is really well trained, I think the reality set in yesterday when he picked up his running packet  and realized that he would actually be running farther than the drive from Plano to Fairpark on Sunday.

I know he will do great tomorrow and I'm confident he will exceed his two goals: 1) to finish 2) to beat Oprah's time.

Here's wishing Jeff the best of luck tomorrow with no toe nail issues, no pooping issues, and no soggy shoes.

(And is it bad that I am hoping to get a nice, close, parking spot to cheer him on at the finish line.)