Mind games

It's starting to get nerve wrecking. Is my throat sore? Is my thigh muscle playing up again? And what was that sharp pain in my stomach?

I've got my mind made up about that little event on Saturday. Whether it's the long or short version is less important (although I'm trying to convince myself that, yes, I can do the whole distance, despite that little detail that I haven't trained for it). It's happening – IF I'm healthy, IF my thigh muscle is ok, IF a meteorite doesn't strike the earth...

Need a new medal

So I'm carbo-loading. And resting. And trying to get as much sleep as I can (and failing – I'M LOOKING AT YOU, TERRIBLE LITTLE CAT MONSTERS WAKING ME UP AT 3.30 THIS MORNING – anyone wants to adopt two adorable little kitties?). And making sure my mp3 player is charged and full of motivating songs to keep me going for hours, while I'm running back and forth the same boring stretch of cycle path I've cycled and ran a million times before. And bribing people to come and cheer me on, because, Internet, even if the body is able, I don't think the mind will be. I've never run more than 31 km solo. I might start having conversations with myself, just to keep myself entertained. Alas, I'm really not that interesting to talk to. And I've heard all the jokes I know before.

I'm also trying to envision a future where I've done it. I've run 42 km and I got the medal and I'm proudly wearing it everywhere – to work, in the shower, on the beach – and I'm moving past it and towards new goals. Because that's what this is about. It's not about running the marathon in itself. I've done it before, in training. But if I really do it, and I have the medal to prove it (mostly to myself, mind you), then I might just believe I'm ready for greater things.