"Don't sit there and plan for a new life, man - enjoy right now. This moment. That's what we got. No guarantees, right? This is it. Enjoy it," she heard one security guard say to another as she stood with her back to them, all bundled up and looking out at the cold January night popping live on Market Street.
Arms shaking from her second workout of the day and in the middle of contemplating dinner, chores, laundry and packing for the next two workouts to come, this conversation snapped her out of the overwhelming monotony of doubt that winter sometimes brings. Its tone brought her rapid fire thoughts to an abrupt stop and its sincerity threw chills up and down her spine as the room stopped moving for an instant and those words sunk in to her bones. With that, the following day's long run didn't seem so daunting and energy not quite so fleeting. The world, once again, seemed full of hope's good graces and possibility. As if a message from another world was delivered for her ears only:
"The time was now. Look the next 10 months of training in the face; realize it will be brutal in every sense and every muscle; and move beyond it."
And well received:
"Sleep will be lost. Food will be fuel. Hydration will be an art. And you will adapt," she thought to herself walking out the revolving door.
Hope remains a thing in which expectations are centered. Expect to see her in Boston, 2013.
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