...it is 11:53pm and somewhere in the Big Horn mountains of Wyoming my husband is traipsing through the forest, hopefully at about mile 55 of a 100 mile race. I always dread the night time while I am at home needing to be sleeping and he is far, far away running, in the dark, alone. I worry about him. And my worry-wart brain starts to think of horrible things that could happen to him.
He doesn't EVER worry about these kinds of things because he knows I worry enough for both of us. I worry about him falling down a mountain side and no one being able to find him. I worry about him twisting his ankle and just trying to push through the miles [he did this last year at Cascade Crest!] I even worry about a wild animal being caught off guard while he is running and going on the attack. It's silly, I know, but I can't help it. I inherited my mother's and my grandmother's worry-wart nature. [thanks Mom!]
So tonight, this post is just kind of ridiculous, but it's what I'm thinking about...right now.
Good luck Brandon, we love you! and Be Careful!
