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Thursday, January 21, 2010

Paris Brest Paris 2007 12



The journey has ended. We are waiting for the restaurant to open so that we can eat. Everyone is tired. All of us finished. I am homesick and it will soon be time to go home. I dread the thought of the travel, but I long for my own little bed and my own routines and the people who love me. They lose my luggage on the way home, including my bike. This may be a blessing as it is delivered to my door the next day so I never had to try to carry it all. My bike case had been opened, but it appears to be fine other than being impossibly light without the heavy carradice.
When I return to work, I find they have tracked me. There are banners across my doors and windows: Congratulations. But I am only there a short time before the phone call comes and I am out the door to the hospital. The light is that this didn't happen while I was on the road somewhere in France and that there is still some hope that all will come out okay.

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