It’s here. Departure is mere hours away now. And I feel like I’ve done enough planning to make General Eisenhower proud. In true form though, I still found a way to save ample major tasks until the very end, subsisting on about 3 hours of sleep each of the past three nights. It’s strange that I’ve had to admit to people that I’m not really excited yet.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited – it comes in spurts. I’ll open an email with a picture of Hong Kong, I’ll catch glimpse through the front window of someone cycling by, or I’ll listen to a friend explain how I should most humorously handle a hypothetical situation while riding. I just mean I’m not REALLY excited. This morning I’d put myself at about an 8 of 10, but I know I should be at least a 17. I think I let those day-to-day tasks swallow me up, and I haven’t allowed myself to sit back and think about the scale of what we’re starting. So, on the plane, the first thing I’m going to do is take a deep breath, close my eyes, and think about that last pedal stroke to the Atlantic. If that doesn’t put me at a 17, I’m not sure anything will. I’ll just have to make sure I don’t wake up like the mother from Home Alone, remembering I left my bike in my parent’s garage…
That, I can assure you, will not be happening, as my bike will be coming on the plane with me. A seat next to me would have been nice, but alas the cargo hold will have to do. It’s boxed up like a sardine and plenty padded for the journey.
I’ll certainly miss everyone back home!
Next stop: China.