Reassuring Pats

Disclaimer: this is the pre marathon post of self doubt.
This weekend was a tremendous and inspiring racing weekend. Charlie, who will also be running the Country Music Marathon this Saturday ran a new half marathon PR. Sprinting in at 1:27! Then Sunday I was glued to my laptop watching the woman's Olympic Trials. Magdalena ran such an incredible race I hated to not see her just run away with it but to watch Deena masterfully, and effortlessly-- I should add-- show us how a marathon is done was equally awesome. But I have to say when I saw Blake Russell coming down that final stretch and could clearly see the moment on her face when she realized that she had made the team. Well, that made me cry I was so happy for her. I have no doubts that both Deena and Magdalena were equally proud and happy for their Olympic teams spots but I saw and felt Blake's pride and overwhelming joy as she crossed the finish line. Congrats to all the women. I think they all ran an amazing race and are going to, like the men, represent the USA well in Beijing.

And today as I watched the elites finish Boston I was further captured by the spirit of the marathon. I want to race tomorrow! No. Not really because I am grateful for the rest and a few more days of prep.


The bubble of inspiration seems to be diminishing though and doubt is creeping in. I am worried that it has been too long since I ran a run over 20 miles. Yes. Right. I know. It has been 22 days. And right. I know. I ran an awesome 18 miler 10 days ago. 15 miler 5 days ago and then there was that fabulous run I did Saturday that I pushed to that "comfortably hard" pace for the entire 10 miles. I have Yoga'd myself silly. Been ridiculous in the pool and I have lifted weights and have been amazed by my strength gains. I feel stronger than I did the week going into ING and sense, I might have the energy to be really powerful on Saturday. But then again, I don't know. . .

I feel like I have not been training. I don't feel worn out, tired, or beaten down. Clearly, something is missing.

I am beginning to imagine injury. There is none but nevertheless as I sit here typing I am icing various points on my leg--calf, Achilles, hamstring, foot. I worry about sickness too. I swallow. Sore throat? No. I sniff hard. Sinuses clogged? Nope. Very suspicious. Once, when I was 22, I went to the doctor--an internist who specialized in infectious diseases-- because I hadn't been sick--at all, not even a cold--in 2 years. I told him I thought I might have a disease that was killing all the other diseases. I could see he was trying hard not laugh since I was dead serious. He ran a bunch of tests and was equally serious when he gave me the results and then patted me on the back and assured me that I was the healthiest person he had ever seen. Sigh, I think I might need to see him again. I sure could use a reassuring pat on the back now.

See? Taper madness has really set in. The dreams have even started. Last night I dreamed the ridiculous shoe dream. The one where I run a race in totally inappropriate shoes. Last night it was my high heel stiletto Cheetah clogs. I am sure tonight I dream I end up missing the start or run the wrong course or run all the way to the Mississippi even.

We won't even discuss the food. Okay, maybe we will. Butter. Why oh why do I love the bread and butter in the taper? Crusty french bread and salted butter. Oh. My. God. I am fat. I am not even going to bother wearing jeans this week. Skirts and dresses only.

And seriously, we will not discuss the amount of 420 I consumed at the Sweetwater Earth Day fest yesterday. But I will show you Carmella's Christo like installation that she did for Earth Day fest, which let's face it, is really just an excuse to get drunk in a park (and for some, I guess get high). Please note the boys in the hammock in the tree.
Wait. Need a better picture?