After hours and heat and humidity and rain and cold and chip-ins and double bogeys and more, it's payback time. For one 36 hour period Dustin is going to caddie. I've got his ticket, he's coming down and likely enduring a few hours of me awake and freaked out then me through a brief sleep and an irritatingly early wake up call before I begin my party in Tempe Town Lake.
We've yet to work out details completely but I know if he has the chance to meet my cousin Chris that he'll be well taken care of and have a great time even while he might be forgetting what I'm doing and why he's there.
I began warning him this summer that I was probably going to drag him down there this year and enlist his support. Similar to my running back to the clubhouse for a gatorade or rain gloves, or to the last hole where he dropped his glove he now would have the opportunity to locate my whereabouts, retrieve my bicycle, and give a shout of encouragement somewhere along the way.
If nothing else I hope when he sees it and feels it he'll have an idea of more possibilities and a bigger world. He'll see me start and hopefully he'll see me finish.
All 18 holes, that's what I've been telling him this past summer.
You can't quit early mentally, you have to keep playing.
Everyone has the same weather conditions and you never know how someone else is doing. I've felt uncertain and doubtful about my progress in running; I then met with someone dealing with a stress fracture who has run less than I have to this point and who has more confidence and certainty about getting to the race and finishing. Catching more of that is what it's about.
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