I guess I’ve been watching too much Lawman: Sam Bass because I’m beginning to liken my surgery tomorrow to a hanging. Obviously, the outcome won’t be the same, but the anticipation certainly is. I’m currently eating my last meal, sausage & eggs, before the restricted diet comes into play. It’s certainly not a pleasant experience trying to plan for a life-changing event. I will be glad when it’s over and friends stop worrying about me. I’m trying to process all the well-wishes, prayers, and goodies. “The Streak” stops tomorrow at 5,496 days, but I’m still harboring hope that the rope will somehow break.  

Surgery has been moved to later in the morning tomorrow, so I won’t have to run my final mile in the middle of the night. I’ll have the option of going outside or using the treadmill. Then, if I can even barely pick up my feet and cover a mile by Tuesday midnight, I could get to 5,497 or more. It’s probably a pipe dream, the same hope that any hanging victim might have in waiting out the hours and anticipating the questionable. 

This morning’s mile-plus was cold and windy, but not like the conditions of last night’s NFL Wildcard game in Kansas City. We’ll make the drive to Tampa in a few hours as I continue to contemplate my fate. My wife’s daughter, the Cardio PA at Stanford, just called to advise me to move as much as possible after surgery despite the weakness. However, the other implied message is not to overdo it. A mile is probably out of the question the day after surgery, but the intent is still there. 

I will not be able to continue my reports for a while and will not take my laptop with me into the Hospital. I might jot a few notes down on my phone, if that will even be allowed in Intensive Care? Just know that I will run tomorrow, likely for the last time on this particular streak. Beyond that is the unknown! Will there be more running miles ahead?