So it’s officially here. Marathon weekend.
I’ve been up since 5:30 this morning, and I’m currently sitting in a study nook here at the U of M downtown while my husband is in his Anatomy & Physiology class taking an exam. Then he’s off to Organic Chemistry and I’m stuck here listening to young teens talk about their weekend party plans, who is ganking who and blah blah blah. Clearly their brain cells are still developing because they speak as if they don’t have any.
(sidenote: and I want to teach college courses soon??)
If I hear the words “Like oh my god” one more time, I’m about to flip out. I’m way too old for this. Please, Lord tell me I wasn’t like this 14 years ago.
Oh great. Some chic just sat down behind me eating an apple and a bag of chips. There isn’t whole lot more in this world that drives me insane than people who chew their food like a cow chews their cud. <————— Random Courtenay fact. Just ask my husband. It gets under my skin like nothing else. I lose my mind.
This is going to be the most insane post ever. Why? Because I’m going to be bored out of my mind for the next 2 hours, I have all sorts of pre-race pent-up energy flowing through my veins, and quite frankly I don’t know what to do with all of it.
Well I’m hoping to run this race completely pain-free tomorrow. So far I’m failing. Had a lovely piriformis cramp show up earlier this week. I had an ART and massage treatment done on my butt Wednesday, and here it is Friday (day before the race) and I can hardly stand the sciatic nerve pain running up my back and down my leg. I’m gonna be straight up and tell you I don’t know if this is all mental or what. Maybe I’m just one big giant head case. Because why, after 5 months does this all of a sudden decide to show up race week? WHY??? While I do think the treatment helped, there’s not enough biofreeze on this planet right now to put my mind at ease.
Please tell me that while I run tomorrow, my piriformis will loosen up its deathly grip around my sciatic nerve and I’ll be able to get through. PLEASE TELL ME THIS. If you don’t tell me this, I will be mad at you. Even if you’re lying, I beg you to lie to me and just give me false hope. Lie to me. I won’t be mad. I’ll be mad if you don’t.
Do you guys sense my desperation at the moment? Do ya?
So there it is. I have mental problems. That’s got to be it. I know I’m not the only one who has phantom pain. I’ve had this discussion before with other runner friends.
Ok. Deep breaths.
I’m just going to focus on the positive. I’m going to run this race (it’s 58 minutes of my life that I just need to get through), I’m going to have fun. I’m going to spend an awesome weekend with my “own kind” (as my doc put it this week) for 3 whole days. I get to see Hal Higdon speak in t-minus 5 1/2 hours. I’m going to be sitting in an elite press conference hopefully in less than 3 hours. I get to be immersed entirely in running culture this weekend. I get to eat copious amounts of whole wheat linguine tonight for dinner. I’m staying in a nice hotel with a king size bed. I get to be with my husband (who is a total non-runner and I can’t believe he’s hanging out with me and going to all this crap with me for days on end) and actually spend time with him for once.
The positives FAR outweigh the negatives.
But I still need you to tell me that my butt won’t hurt tomorrow, mkay? Thanks. Bye.