I have been dreading tomorrow’s half marathon. Dreading.
My schedule for this week has sucked. I was in Memphis for a wedding all last weekend (only got one very fast 3 miler in), and came back to madness.
Monday 8 am to 11 pm
Tuesday 8 am to 5 pm, then 6 pm to 11pm
Wednesday 8 am to 11 pm
Thursday 9:30 to 5 (I took a mental health morning. Totally worth it.)
Friday 8 am to 3 pm, then 6 pm to 11 pm
Today 9 am to 4 pm, then 6 pm to 11 pm
I am tired. Also my foot hurts ( specifically, the place where my right big toe joins my foot) and has since Sunday. So the idea of waking up to run 13.1 miles tomorrow has been filling me with the most intense sense of dread.
Until I got on the highway to go pickup my packet. I started getting excited. Really, really excited. By the time I got to the race pickup, I was practically skipping. Look at my new shirt!!!!
I promptly went home and signed up for a turkey trot.
How can the surly be replaced with such elation so quickly? I wish I could explain how light I feel right now, and how thrilled I am to get to experience another gathering of a community of runners.
I’ll chalk it up to having the love of running. That deep, somewhat crazy love of everything about running–the good (The camaraderie! The burn! The wind in your hair! The post run glow! The post run beer!), the bad (windy days), and the ugly (The chafing!! Oh my God, the chafing!!!!!)
I’m happy I’ve still got it.