Last weekend Sharon and I ran our final long run before the half-marathon. We’ve reached the stage in training where any run that’s not double digits doesn’t seem like a long run at all. It’s kind of crazy to look back at our training and think about our first 8-mile run, which seemed so LONG. Then, last weekend, when we finished our 9-mile run it seemed like we’d just gotten started.
Now I’m in the middle of a taper, which I’ve been looking forward to for weeks. These five months of hard training and passing on dessert have left me…tired.
Two weekends ago we ran our hilly route again, and we saw a woman pushing her 4ish-year old daughter in a jogging stroller up the same hill we were running down. And they were both smiling. That little moment has inspired me to stop whining so much.
The race is in just a few days, and to be honest: I’m dreading it in a real way…and I can’t even really articulate why. It’s weird because our training has gone really well. I’m not dealing with any aches and pains or injuries, and we’ve been able to hit all our time and distance goals so far. Even though training is going well, I have a hard time translating that to the race. It seems like all the training pieces are in place. I feel good about my endurance, strength, speed…the only thing I lack is confidence.
I don’t know if it’s because I’ve raced this distance before and I remember what mile 10 felt like last time. Or maybe it’s because I’d like to PR, and any time you toe the line with a time goal you know you’re going to have to run with some guts. That’s something I’ve never been very good at.
But, then again, I’ve been nervous about this race since I decided to run.
Sharon and I would both like to PR, but we also just really want to enjoy the race. While we’ve been training, Sharon has raised a bunch of money to help orphans. That alone makes the race effort worth it. Which means we have nothing left to do but rest, hydrate, and enjoy the 13.1 miles.