43rd

Friday we went to Twistee Treat, like we always do, and our order came out the drive thru window, like it always does (without ordering).

The friendly Twistee Treat employee, Lori (may or may not be her real name), asked, “How’d it go?”

We’ve been going to Twistee Treat for four years and Lori was always there on Mondays and Fridays.  For the past year or so though, Lori has a different schedule, we rarely see her.

Quickly, my brain started working overtime to remember what Lori was referring to.  Nothing.

So I sort of embarrassingly asked Lori, “How’d what go?”

“The track meet.”

Then it hit me.  I gave Lori a Lane 8 business card at some point and must have described the Lane 8 vision.  You know, “If your goal isn’t impossible….I don’t care if I get the worst lane and come in last.”

Because I’ve had time to process, and have overcome the reluctance to just spit it out, I was able to come right out with it, “Forty-third.  In the world.”

“There were 5,300 athletes from 80 different countries.  In my event (400m) alone, there were 63 athletes aged 50-54.  Eight of them were Americans.  Seven made it to the semi-finals.  I was the one that didn’t.”

43rd. In the whole world.  Ya with me?