The marathon is in three days.
I am resting, foam rolling, stretching. I got bodywork on Tuesday and went to the chiropractor on Wednesday. I bought compression tights to (hopefully) support my IT band. I bought a new tank with a zillion pockets and I sorta kinda broke in some new shoes. I have all my gels for the race. I know which socks I'm going to wear.
Kat and I have been talking pacing. Sean has been making super healthy food and carbo loading me. I haven't been running, but I've done some stationary biking and some elliptical workouts. I'm taking Ibuprofin three times a day. I'm visualizing feeling good at every mile marker.
I'm consumed with thinking about the marathon. It's like postpartum brain fog. Yesterday at work I said something really stupid in an important meeting because I couldn't figure out the meaning of the phrase "within and between." It was too much for a mind addled with pacing and taping and did-I-run-enough-in-my-new-shoes.
Sometimes I think I'll have no problems finishing this race because I've wanted this for so long, I've worked so hard, and of course I'm not going to quit in the middle even if my knee is screaming at me. And then that stupid old voice says, "But you quit everything." And then I tell that voice to fuck off. I'm not that person anymore.
I think about what mile I'll be in when my IT band starts talking to me, and then I imagine a race completely free of pain. It's wonderful.
My body feels great and I have two more taper days to go. I did almost all 18 weeks of training (except for that one stupid sick week). I am almost ready.
I'm going to run a marathon!