Monday: Denial
When you sign up for these things so far in advance it feel s like you have all of the time in the world to prepare and train. I did my last long run on Sunday and the idea of tapering—cutting down my mileage and workouts—this week felt great. There would be no pressure to hit certain mileage marks, just like pre-race registration days. Then I realized why I got to do that—I was preparing my body and saving energy for 13.1 miles on Sunday. Eh, it was still six days away. That was plenty of time to mentally prepare.
Tuesday: Anger, self-pity
On Tuesday it hit me that I’d be running the biggest race of my life this weekend and I would have no one there to cheer me on throughout the course or to greet me at the finish line. Even if you never see your support group throughout the race, it’s comforting to know they are there and it helps push you through the hard parts of the race. This realization made me feel sorry for myself.
I remembered how much fun it was to run the Falmouth Road Race with my sister, who watched the first year and ran alongside me the next. Both years I was part of Tedy’s Team; I was included in a group of people all running for the same reason, I had 64 teammates (and their families and friends) on my side pulling for me to finish the race. Whether we knew each other or not, we were bound together by our blue shirts. I remember running along the course and hearing people yell “Go Tedy’s Team!” at me or a fellow runner nodding as we ran into each other on the course. It helped me push through those rolling hills because I didn’t want to let anyone down. If my teammates could do it, so could I.
I guess the price you pay for that kind of support is the fundraising you have to do beforehand. After training for and realizing I’ll be running this race solo—a very lonely feeling—I can safely say that the fundraising effort is worth it. This week I was more annoyed that I had to run the half marathon than excited because I had no one to share my accomplishment with. It’d be like going out for a long run and getting a medal at the end. I try to keep reminding myself that I am doing this race for me, but it doesn’t really work. Guess I’ll have to try to be a little more convincing…
Wednesday: Excitement
I met up with a friend and a couple of her co-workers who had just gotten into town to work the race expo (they work for Brooks). After chatting about the race with seasoned vets, I left looking forward to Sunday.
Thursday: Anticipation
Every time I thought about this weekend, I had butterflies in my stomach. I was filled with anticipation for the big day. After work I went out for my final pre-race run (3.5 miles) and stocked up on bananas (my pre-race snack). I stretched and rolled out my left leg/calf/ankle with my physical therapy kit to make sure I didn’t have any injury issues over the next couple days. I went to bed excited knowing the next day I’d be going to the Expo on my lunch hour to pick up my number and packet.
Friday: Holy Crap—nausea, nerves, excitement
I woke up anxious to attend the expo today, mostly because I’m looking forward to collecting free stuff from vendors and will get to see my friend at the Brooks booth again. I grabbed my camera on the way out the door knowing there would probably be some stuff at the expo that I’d want to document.
As soon as I got to work, I felt nauseous. I’m not sure if it was nerves or the 7 Eleven coffee I had this morning, but my stomach was in knots. I can’t focus on work—my mind is obsessed with the race and getting it all over with. There are still two hours until it’s time to hit up the expo and time could not pass any slower. I’m excited to see what the expo is all about and hope it will fire me up for the race on Sunday. If it’s this hard to get through today, I can’t even imagine how I will feel on Saturday, or how much sleep I’ll even be able to get.
Whether I’m ready or not, the weekend I’ve been working so hard for is finally here. And I think I want to vomit…
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