Can you see the finish line if you don't recall the start?

Last night, somewhere around 4 a.m., I crossed a finish line, received no medal upon arrival, was shoved by other runners and handed a plate filled with non-traditional post-race grub and realized I remembered nothing about running or even starting the half-marathon.

It wouldn't be mid-April if the anxiety dreams about the Country Music Half-Marathon still eluded me. Completing it twice has not slackened the stress about training. Even though we completed an 11.8 mile run on Saturday in heat closely mirroring race day, I feel a little nervous.

There's something about a big race in the heat. Sweating before I start the run is never a good sign for a strong finish. Thanks to water stations every mile, I try to take a "wear one, drink one" approach. That won't do much to avoid a sunburn like the one I earned Saturday, but at least it brings relief.

Finishing up the Brentwood course for the final time had some satisfying moments, but until I stop moving on the 24th, it's just fleeting gratification.