Every time I look at the calendar I feel a flutter in my belly. It's really starting to freak me out that my first marathon is less than 2 weeks away. Today, I don't feel prepared. Yesterday, I was completely confident. Looking at the calendar...
I don't think I've ever been this nervous. I've adjusted my time down hoping for a 6 hour 20 minute finish, because I still haven't fully recovered my speed from battling pneumonia in December. I did come back to running before the new year and I did make my long runs, even if I ended up limping in on the 20 miler and hitting at wall on the 16 miler before that. I'm still fighting the issues with my left foot, constantly reminding myself to remember to check my posture, stride and footfall, figuring out what nutrition to take with me. Planning (not my strong suit) is integral to a good race. Remembering not to start out too fast, to stop and stretch every 6-8 miles, to eat something every 50 minutes or so, will help make the finish a reality and not just a dream.
I can't control the weather; I can only pray that it's above 40 and below 70. And that it doesn't rain. I don't want to be a delicate flower, I want to be a dandelion! I want to withstand the elements! I want to beat my expectations! I will beat my expectations!
Guess it's too late to take up nail biting. Can I have a cookie?
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