It’s already Wednesday of a race week, but it doesn’t at all feel like a race week, in an awesome way. I’m excited to take another stab at the half marathon distance to see what I can do, but I’m not anxious, losing sleep, or worried about things that I can’t control. Yeah, I still have lingering total and complete exhaustion from a cold last week, I haven’t focused on tapering, and I’m even planning on drinking a beer or two tonight, something I generally forbid within 7 days of a race.
But things are all good.
I’m also starting to get the good-nervous butterflies, I’m picturing myself at the starting line, and I’m excited at the thought of the hellish last miles. I am ready to fight them. I have a plan for the next 5 days that’s incorporated in to normal life; the continuation of normal life despite a looming race is okay because I’m staring to know what works and what’s worth it versus what’s excessive. Anyone who knows me knows that this is a world of difference from a few years ago.
The whole point of stacking so many races in January, February, and March was to teach myself to race, not only in running but in preparation, approach, and recovery. This weekend will be the middle race in my winter schedule (3 of 5) and a good check-in point to see if my calm nature is a sign of good things to come.
Oh, and I will make no claims or promises to be this calm come August. Obviously.