...is how many kilometres I've driven in the past two weeks. That's a lot of driving. No wonder my hand was getting a little testy and stiff and antsy. Though I'm sad about the trip being over and about being back into routine as of tomorrow, I'm simultaneously glad that the drive is over and we're home.
I'm proud of myself. That's a little hard for me to say but it's true. I am a bit of a coward about adventurous things and I always worry that I've missed out on things in life that I could have benefited from or taken advantage of. I am subject to living under fear at times.
I was fearful before our trip started, imagining all of the worst things that could happen: Car breakdowns in the middle of nowhere; car breakdowns in the middle of nowhere in the rain; car breakdowns in the middle of nowhere in the rain and an ax murderer stopping to help us out; car breakdowns in the middle of nowhere in the rain and an ax murderer stopping to help us out and none of us ever being heard from again. You get the idea. I had nightmares related to traveling in the car so far with kids who are highly energetic and not accustomed to sitting still (thank goodness for dvds that the boys loved). I dreamed of awkward days with Sharla, whom I'd never met two weeks ago and I worried that we'd feel like our visit would never come to an end. I worried that my achilles tendon wouldn't hold out and I dreamed that the kids would get sick or that I'd get sick and the whole trip would be ruined and we'd get our host families sick, too. The day before we left, I told Geoff that I was scared.
None of those worst-case scenarios happened...but I didn't know that before we left. I left house and husband with our three precious kids and I lived life a little larger than I normally would. I was brave. I stepped well out of my comfort zone and just did it. Life. I'm proud of myself. And...it was great...awesome!! 4,200 is my new favourite number.