I haven't celebrated New Year's Eve in a very long time. I'm going to say 1998 probably. Maybe not even that recently. (Except for one fluke NYE in 2005 shortly after I met my husband, and boy did we celebrate...Yikes.) It's not that I don't love NYE. But I've always been working or sleeping at the stroke of midnight. I remember the millennium new year. I was working in the ICU. Everyone thought we were going to lose power (Y2K and all that jazz). My (then) boyfriend came down and we snuck into the wards for a kiss. That was about the extent of my celebration.
Now, my husband and I like to celebrate our New Year's by getting up early and hopping on the bike before there is any traffic out on the road. (If I weren't working I'd be out there right now with him...) The morning air on the first of January is crisp and cool and very refreshing. The air is filled with hope and dreams and resolutions of personal betterment.
I consider it fate, or destiny, that last night I woke up at 12:55 am. Just in time for registration of the Tahoe Rim Trail 50 mile Endurance Run which opened at 1 am. I missed the ball dropping. I missed the midnight hour. I kissed my husband at 10:30 pm just before we drifted off to sleep. As if my mind was programed, I woke up and glanced at my clock with 5 minutes to spare. Not that I needed to register at 1 am. If it's anything like last year it will still be several weeks before the race sells out. But this is my numero uno goal for the year, and what if it DID sell out?? Then I would have been totally bummed.
So as we muddle through life on January 1, 2012, I sit content knowing that my goal is in reach and a mere 6 1/2 months away. To obtain the air that angels breathe, you must go to Tahoe. (Mark Twain) I'm on my way, baby. I'm on my way.