I Feel It In My Bones

I guess there isn’t much a run and a couple of mugs of peppermint tea can’t cure.

It was a rough morning. I felt like I was being crushed to death under paperwork and bullshit. I felt stressed, tired, and borderlining on hopeless. I didn’t want to go run, I didn’t want to put in the 4 miles I had promised myself. I didn’t have time, I had stuff I needed to do here in the office, I had attorneys who needed me.

The attorney here in the office running the IC on Saturday asked me if I was going out for my last run today around 1130 and assured me he would be going out even though he was in a similar boat as me. Well, if he could get out and go do it, then I’d best man up and get to it, right?

You can’t hone a knife on butter.

I went out, took my familiar long route around Brown and Belle Islands, and by the last half mile of those 4 miles, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. This was it, my last run until Saturday morning. The end of months and months of planning and training and thinking and running and and and and ….

I went out stressed, frustrated, anxious, drowning in my cares, and I came back and, embarrassingly enough, did a little happy dance (looked more like a touchdown celebration by an NFL quarterback, I guess) in the lobby of my building as the security guards and Capitol police watched in amusement.

I haven’t had much to say this week, which is unusual for me on the week of a major race. Truthfully, I don’t have anything new to say. I’ve been here, done this before. I am vastly less anxious than I was for my previous two half marathon distances. Not that I don’t have a checklist of to-do’s between now and Saturday, but none of it feels scary anymore.

Wash my fuel belt bottles, pick up 3 GUs from Lucky Foot when I pick my packet up on Friday, shave my damn legs so no one thinks they spotted a yeti running in Pocahontas State Park (they would have to nickname it Pokey, and really, no one wants to be responsible for that atrocity!), figure out whether it is ACTUALLY going to rain or just toy at rain on Saturday morning and decide what to wear, change out the battery in my MP3 player, pack a post-race bag with a sweatshirt and energy bar. Oh yeah, sleep should go on that list, too.

I have lots to do, but none of it is onerous; in fact, all of it (aside from shaving my legs) are enjoyable activities that bubble with the promise of an adventure. Which is exactly what I consider this race to be. An adventure.

I am in a really good place, mentally. This is the most prepared, most excited I have been for a race yet. I am not giving any space to the negative voices in my head that love to remind me of my pace, where I fall as a “competitor,” and all kinds of other unworthy thoughts. I worked hard for this and I know I will do well; I am making myself no promises about how well, nor am I setting any limits on what is possible. I know what I am getting into, that it is a hard thing, but a worthy thing. Unlike November, I don’t have to “Press on, regardless”; I’m not injured this time around. Unlike last March, I know explicitly what I have gotten myself into and have no unrealistic (or even realistic) expectations. I am going to have fun and do something a large portion of the people I know consider to be *just* on this side of Crazy.

Maybe I will think of something interesting to say before Saturday morning, but I expect to go radio silent between now and then.

See you on the other side of my third half marathon.


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