Pre-race jitters and shivers
In my office I approached stairs like a neurotic billy goat, and if I could, I would have worn bubble wrap pants to work everyday. Protection at all costs.
Coming into last weekend I felt great and like most runners I started taking every precaution to ensure that I would be in one piece and healthy for race day. I didn’t cross against do not walk signs, or run in front of taxicabs. I did most of my running at a very slow pace, sticking to empty sidewalks and well lit areas whenever possible. I was always on the guard for the dreaded twisted ankle or other possible joint injury.
One thing I couldn’t prevent was getting the worst cold I have had in a couple of years. I’m currently on three different over the counter cold medications, which may be causing mild hallucinations, that or a 6’ tall taking rabbit has recently moved into my apartment.
Despite this fact, I was able to keep up with my tapered down training schedule (our miles are lowered to ensure our health for the race) and showed up for our final team practice. Perhaps I should have taken the week off, given that I spent most of Sunday in bed. But, like other runners participating this weekend I have put in too much work (4 ½ months of training 5 days a week with over 750 miles logged) to not show up for the last few runs. This attitude can backfire sometimes and I hope this isn’t the case with me. I have to say that I am concerned about my fatigue level and I’m hoping a lot of bed rest between this evening and Sunday will do the trick.
I did put running aside for one night on Wednesday when I got to watch my beloved Red Sox capture their third World Series Championship in ten years, which has provided some great inspiration for me when it comes to Sunday’s race.
With less than 48 hours to race time I’m feeling both anxious and excited. I also feel a bit sad. I’m not sure if it’s the NyQuil talking, but I think I’m going to miss this whole thing when it’s over. It’s like any relationship that we invest our whole selves into, it requires us to be completely honest, with moments both good and bad that we only seem to appreciate when they’ve crossed over into the past. On Sunday I’m going to try my best to be completely present for every moment of the race, cold or not, taking it all in, because I will never have a first marathon again. And if I come home Sunday evening and there’s still 6’ tall talking rabbit in my apartment, then he’d better have paid his part of the rent.