My bags are packed (mostly!), all my electronic gadgets are vying for space in the wall outlets for one last full charge, paperwork is copied in triplicate. I am very nearly ready to go. In the spirit of the olympics, which I really haven’t had time to enjoy, I feel as though the starter has called “on your mark”. It is an odd thing to be in this place, I feel like I have waited quite a long time for this moment, yet it doesn’t seem all that momentous actually being here. As I bid my two very best friends goodbye this evening the only thing different from any other evening spent visiting and laughing was the hug I gave Michelle as I headed out the door. I keep trying to force myself to feel sad about leaving, the things I will miss and the routines that will change – but it just doesn’t feel sad. It’s like I am on my mark looking forward and ready for the gun to signal the beginning. Likely a few strides in I will start to feel the burn and wish for the comfort of the familiar and easy, but by then it will be too late and the only thing to do will be to keep going – and strive to experience the satisfaction of a well-run race.