I'm running a Marathon

I've pinned my bib to the hideous yellow "singlet" - I'm number 14650.  I've eaten copious amounts of carbohydrates (love guilt-free fettucini.)  I've laid out my shoes, shorts, sports bra, watch, shoe tags, and iPod shuffle which has been carefully crafted with melodies to sing me through the many many miles... I've even decorated my singlet with my name and a couple other special names in bright, red permanent marker.  I laid out my hat and a few flowers to stick in my ponytail for personal flair.  (why not right?)  I'm now lying in bed, willing sleep to come before my awakening at 4am, and I have NO IDEA what to expect tomorrow.  It's the most daunting, overwhelming, exciting, mysterious, scary, wonderful, humbling feeling.  It's reminiscent of the night before I left for Europe... I didn't really know where I was going to end up, who I would meet, how alone I would be, if I'd end up in any trouble.  It's also the feeling like before I went on stage in As You Like It last year... that nervous wonderful feeling of not knowing how the scene is going to turn out, and knowing I can do it and that I have my lines and everything down... but what if something trips me up and I mess up?  It's also like the night before I performed as the Lilac Fairy in Sleeping Beauty -- my last and best ballet performance ever.  I didn't know I wanted that part, I didn't think I would ever get it, and then I did, and the music was amazing and beautiful, and then it came time to perform.  And I remember curling up in the fetal position in my little twin bed the night before the show, trembling with nerves and feeling the lasting sting on my toes from that days rehearsal in pointe shoes, and envisioning myself rolling off my pointe when I piqued, or landing hard and wobbly out of a pirouette, or just falling ass first in the middle of the stage in my purple tutu.  Those scary, anxious feelings of the unknown... how will my body perform tomorrow?  How will my mind perform?  What will I think about?  What will I feel?  The "what-ifs" are endless.  And yet, here I find myself lying in bed put before a task that I set up for myself 8 months ago, and experiencing all those anxious feelings I've felt for tasks of my choice in the past -- and I get a little comfort in knowing, yeah, I made it through those experiences - and they were nothing less than fucking glorious.  So whose to say tomorrow won't be?  Here goes 26.2 miles.