Tomorrow is the second race of the year and the first one that matters. The National Half is the strongest signal of marathon fitness before the marathons come in April. So geez I'd like to do well. A few thoughts that swirled through my head while heading to packet pickup, randomized and recounted in the stream of consciousness:
Is it "ironic" to wear a Jingle All the Way 8K t-shirt to the packet pickup for a half or full marathon? Because I felt a little like a hipster, in a kind of "I'm too cool to take this seriously" frame of mind.
The promoter Rock and Roll, with primary sponsor PF Chang's, is now in charge of this race. As you'd expect, it feels commodified. Last year it was poorly run, but at least it was quaint. Do you have to be the McDonalds of marathons to produce a good race? (Actually, PF Chang's is a good analog, isn't it?) This brings to mind the Lande/Averitt/Kirkwood line of articles on consumer choice. Also Stucke/Grunes on diversity as an antitrust goal.
Should have worn my compression socks today. It hasn't been a high mileage week, but it has been a lot-of-time-on-my-feet week. My legs feel a little used. Just put the socks on this afternoon. They are helping. Must remember to wear them to and in Boston next month.
Here's what I know will happen between now and tomorrow noon: (1) I will be jumpy and unable to concentrate, which will make work difficult; (2) I will pick at my food even though I want to consume calories; (3) I will crab at P__ if she dares to recommend we do something that requires me to move very much; (4) I will wish halfway through the race that I could quit, and come up with all kinds of reasons why quitting would really be a demonstration of my being smart rather than weakness; (5) no matter how the race goes, I will be satisfied while metroing home, then frustrated once I recover at just how much better it could have gone.
I won't want to go to bed tonight. Race-day-eve I fear sleep, because it removes the conscious time before race morning, when I have to be really anxious, and then hurt for 85 minutes or so. This must be what it is like to know you are reporting for jail, or military duty, the next day. (Sleep is worthless the night prior anyway. I would guess 3 hours total.)
D__'s workout, which I joined on Thursday, of 2x3 miles at "threshold" (10 mile or so) pace, was a confidence builder. But I hope I can recover by tomorrow morning!
Does this kind of self-induced stress keep one young or make one old?
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