Tomorrow (Sunday, May 5) I will run the first of two marathons in two weeks.
On the eve of my third Flying Pig Marathon all I keeping thinking is, what the hell am I doing?
Typically, I can hardly run one every six months to a year. The Pig is a challenging course. And I promised myself I would run Cleveland because it was flat and I might, might, actually hit my goal time of a sub-4 hour marathon that I set for my first race (and Pig) in 2011.
To pile onto my predicament, I agreed to wear a GoPro camera on a chest harness for work. Initially, I thought agreeing to do this (It was not my idea, I was asked) would make the race fun and maybe keep me going at a slower pace, so I would not have to time-lapse my humiliation in the form of a walk-run at the end. Now, I’m just like what was I thinking, as nerves jumble and doubt fills my head.
The reaction to the GoPro decision has definitely been one of, well, really? followed by a little snickering among runners. Did I tell you I am vain and insecure? I don’t dance or do anything that might draw negative attention to myself because I’ve always been worried about what others thought about me for as long as I can remember.
I know, I’m not right.
Did I also mention, I’m turning 37 somewhere on the course of the Pig. Yeah.
How the hell did that happen?
Thirty-seven. It just doesn’t seem fair.
I thought as an adult some things should matter less and I should have everything figured out by now. Some adult along the way in my childhood lied to me.
Other than that, I just pray for a decent night sleep Saturday evening and an injury free race. This also involves not having embarrassing nightmares of myself in a GoPro harness of shame.