You know how the Boston Marathon has a stretch of road called Heartbreak Hill? It’s the ascent over 0.4-mile between the 20 and 21-mile. Electrolytes are gone. Energy is gone. You are using every last resource your body has. It’s when belly fat and muscles alike might be burnt to get you past the finish lane. You’re almost done, but you’re so far. Because you’re on heartbreak hill. You don’t know if you can make it to the top, so you just take it one step at a time.
Lately, life has felt like a hundred of those.
You know those days in late winter when flipflops and spring jackets are a long forgotten memory? And then you feel one of those early brief indian summer days that remind you of spring for one brief day? You toy with the idea of flip flops, you wear a lighter coat, you go without a scarf, outside there’s what you call a breeze and not a windchill factor. And then you remember, and you hope.
Today feels like a thousand of those.
Because soon our hope might actually be a reality. After 3 and a half years of saving, working, selling, hoping and waiting, throwing payments small and large at our debt, we might actually be rounding the home stretch. Or rounding the home stretch before the home stretch – I’m not sure. And not being sure is the hardest part. It could be soon, or it could be months away. But even months is soon. We’re on heartbreak hill, where you feel both hope and desperation. I’m not sure if I’ll feel like this:
Or like this:
when I’m done. But right now sometimes I feel like this:
I like the feeling of the spring breeze.