I’m still in my pyjamas and it is 4.40pm. I know you are congratulating me. Thank you! I have in fact been a little bit sick and had the mother of all headaches today. I had to take myself off to bed again at 10.30 this morning and go back to sleep for 3 hours. I wonder if it is the weather, or just the lurgy.
The really bad news is that I am supposed to be running a 30 km race on Sunday. It’s kinda tragic. My training has been super shit. In terms of there hasn’t been much of it. Training that is. I signed up for this race after my last half marathon. Y’know, when I was in the glow of ‘I am a total legend’.
Then life got busy, there’s been a bit of life changing ideas and goals and parties and odd wailing and ideas and all kinds of GOOD stuff but clearly not quite enough training.
There is two choices now. Well actually three.
I could just not do it and cheer on the Doc for her 15 km.
I could just do 15 km with the Doc.
I could just do the 30km and stop being a pussy and rely on some cell memory.
I mean I’m kinda well trained. It’s not like I’ve not been running. I’m just not 30 km trained. 21 trained (more or less).
We are staying in a fancy pants hotel the night before. It’s all booked. The Doc has been planning food to take to eat. Like all quinoa and stuff. I feel like someone who hasn’t prepared well enough for an interview. I’m sitting here in my pyjamas doodling swag wagons on a random envelope.
The Doc however has done herself proud. She has completed ALL of her training runs like a champ and is a legend. I am very pleased about that. It will be her longest run. I know already that I will have to do the 15 at least not to be a total loser. I’m hoping some amazing thing will happen where I get to the end of the 15 and just keep going. You know like I’m meant to. Check my flow n all that.
So like I have 2 options. It’s good talking this through isn’t it?! My swag wagon just got a blue light on it.
In terms of psychology (running psychology) it goes something like this in my head….
You’ve gotta run 30k in eight weeks.
Shit I hate my whole life.
Best do some training.
Runs 8 k.
That’s not enough.
At least I went. Shut up.
It’s only 5 weeks.
I hate my whole life.
Runs 5 k.
I’m totes trying to sort out some shit in my life right now, you know life goals, important stuff.
You could still fit in more runs though right?
It’s only 3 weeks.
Yea it’s fine I’m a totes great runner, I’m well trained anyway and I can already run 21 so I’m good I will just pull it off.
It’s only a week.
Fuck my old boots. Doodles swag wagons.
I mean regardless it will be fine. Nobody is going to die. There will be quinoa. There will be cheering on and positive affermation from the Doc. I might pull together that mental belief shit I’m so good at. Or I might end up in a gutter on the goldie.
Regardless there will be one medal shoved on the makeshift coat hanger medal rack we have got going on.❤️
Then I’m gonna run my favourite distance of 5km for a while. Until I lose my mind again.