I was continuing to shrink. To become, what? The infinitesimal? What was I? Still a human being, or was I the man of the future?... So close, the infinitesimal and the infinite, but suddenly I knew they were really the two ends of the same concept. The unbelievably small and the unbelievably vast eventually meet, like the closing of a gigantic circle. I looked up, as if somehow I would grasp the heavens. The universe, worlds beyond number, God's silver tapestry spread across the night. And in that moment I knew the answer to the riddle of the infinite. I had thought in terms of man's own limited dimension. I had presumed upon nature. That existence begins and ends is man's conception, not nature's, and I felt my body dwindling, melting, becoming nothing. My fears melted away and in their place came acceptance. All this vast majesty of creation—it had to mean something. And then I meant something, too. Yes, smaller than the smallest—I meant something, too. To God, there is no zero. I still exist.
Even athletes need to sleep.