Final Week and Instructions

The final instructions arrived in my inbox yesterday, one week out from the race. 3 pages of expo, pre-race, post-race, parking, packet, course, minutae which made my eyes glaze. I came in from the last of the long runs, logging just short of 14 and 1/2 miles, as I loop out to University and back on Arthur, Thomas Streets. Thanks to Mark at Planet Massage, and his intuitive, healing hands, I was more comfortable overall, especially the first 4-5 miles. I looked for my cruising speed, and checked form. But by the time I hit Arthur and the straight stretch home, I could feel the ache in my hips and upper thighs begin, and I knew; a world of pain awaited me on the 27th.

I finished up yesterday and mentally tried to add 12 miles. That's pushing past pain and discomfort miles, gritting my teeth through every step miles. I'm not sure how to approach this, or whether walk breaks will help me negotiate the pressure of consistent pounding. But I know there's no more room for mental build-up; it's practically here, and I'm petrified all over again.

I'm diving into this as a solitary adventure after all. Everyone I'd hoped could be available is not. Crossing the line to my own good congratulations, if I make it, will need to be the reward. I'm having a tough time with this, but it's the way it shaped out, and there's nothing I can do about it now. It will be odd that one of the greatest accomplishments of my life will go unnoticed in the crowd. I need to get my head out from that image, and back to the excitement of the race. I need to focus on making my plans organized, to reduce the stress. I especially need to remember how great it feels at mile 7 or 8 before the pain sets in, when the rhythm becomes automatic and my head gets free of all concerns, and suddenly it's just pure motion, and air, and light.

Somewhere inside me is a distance runner. I have endured more than this getting to where I am today. I need to remember the athlete inside me who understands what it means to hang in, hang tough and comprehend the significance of the journey. Somewhere is a finishing line I am meant to cross, and whether anyone witnesses it or not, there will be people ready to offer a well-meaning congratulations. And I can be proud, regardless. I am finally on my way.