Thursday, July 8, 2010


I've been sitting here all morning trying to figure out why I'm in such a funk. Nothing really wrong, I suppose, but I just feel edgy. I almost had full on panic attack when I realized I'm out of shot bloks, and I don't have time to get to the running store before Saturday. Fortunately, Amazon and their one day shipping made my shot bloks literally a click away. Problem solved. Yet I still feel like somebody is clawing my insides out. I feel terribly, horribly nervous. Why?

Then it hit me. It has to be the race, right? Even though it makes no logical sense for me to fear it, I do. I keep having all these crazy thoughts in my head. What if I can't finish the race? What if I get the runner's trots and crap all over myself? What if I die? What if Muffin Top isn't strong enough to drag my poop-stained body back to the start line and bears eat me and my family never has proper closure?

Remember this dude?  I don't wanna poop myself!!!

I've never ran a 15k race before. [That's 9.7 miles, peeps!] Sure, MT and I ran 10 miles straight a couple of weeks ago, but we did it alone, without an audience, and definitely not in front of a shit ton of people! [That sentence is begging for some sexual innuendo, but I'm a total FAIL today]. Also, this race includes A LOT of hills, and we only did limited hill running. I know I should learn to love hills, but I just... don’t. They scare me.

Is it going to feel like this?  Why is this dude naked?

Somewhere in a logical crevice of my brain, I know that once we get out there and get going, everything will be ok. We have to pace ourselves; we have to drink our water at appropriate intervals. We've trained for this. It actually takes a surprising amount of talent to eat a shot blok, wash it down with water and continue running without falling. But I've practiced this extensively, so I should be good to go! By this point, we've done so many long runs that I know exactly what to eat for breakfast before a run [clif bar, natch], and I know exactly how much water to drink so I don't end up pissing myself. [No more than 16oz during the hour before the race!]. I also know at which point I normally hit my wall, and I also know when I start to get past it. WE. ARE. PREPARED.

I can HANDLE the shit long as I don't shit myself.

At some point during the next 48 hours, I need to do the one thing I haven't yet. I need to nut up and believe in myself. That sounds totally hokey and cheesy, but it's quite literally the only thing I'm missing. I know I HAVE ran 10 miles before, but I can't wrap my mind around the fact that I actually DID. Somehow, I'm stronger than I think I am, and sooner or later I need to get that through my head. T-minus 48 hours and counting, people!