Not quite sure how it happened, but suddenly the half marathon is only THREE days away. This summer (and the 16 weeks of training) has gone by way too fast. It seems like I just signed up to do this, when actually I registered for this race long before I got pregnant. Before we even decided to give it a go.
But really, who chooses to run 13.1 miles on August 31st in Virginia? It's not exactly going to be cool outside. And now I have to do it 17 weeks pregnant. Right ... I'm obviously a brain surgeon.
OK, maybe I'm being dramatic. I really am excited. Plus, I've raced while pregnant. I know what it's like. To be honest, what I'm getting all worked up about is the fact that it hit me today that I am not "racing" this half marathon, but simply "running" it. Sure it sounds like the same thing, but for anyone who has even the slightest bit of competitiveness within them, they know it's not. And we all know I am ultra-competitive.
Ahhh ... it's so frustrating. I want to get on the start line and race. I want to go out too fast like I always do. I want to push through the pain, record a great time, and finish feeling accomplished.
But, since I'm really trying to be sensible, most of that isn't going to happen. Instead, I'll get on the start line, gradually pick up the pace until I hit cruise control (somewhere between 10:30 and 11 min miles), chat it up with my girls, make 2, 3 or 20 pee breaks, and finish the race. And hopefully I'll finish with the same sense of accomplishment. (Yes, I realize that finishing is an accomplishment in itself - stop trying to make me feel better.)
Seriously, sometimes I wish I didn't expect so much from myself. Damn Type A personality ...