I had hoped to have a few nice posts this week talking about how well I'm handling my taper and the final few days before my next marathon. I assumed I'd be talking about the near-zen state I was in, offering wisdom on how you too could achieve such bliss. Well, that sure didn't work out.
First, on Sunday, I dropped a dog bone on my foot, splitting the nail on my right second toe (the one next to the big toe). I had taken a couple days off to deal with a nagging hip injury but this ensured that I won't be running before this weekend at the earliest. Thankfully, a doctor's visit yesterday confirmed that it's only mangled, not broken.
Next, there's the little matter of race temperature. After last year's fiery inferno, I know that no matter what, the weather in Boston will be much better. For most of this past few days (every since we entered the 10 day range) it looked like we'd have a race day high in the mid- to low-50s. Now, however, the temps seem much more in flux and all of that flux seems to point up! Realistically, this shouldn't be too big of a deal, but right now my racing mind is imagining the worst.
What's the point of this? I guess it just goes to show that even after 9 marathons, each time I approach the starting line I still get nervous. Of course, there's plenty of excitement mixed in there with those nerves and I know that come race day I'll have a blast, but for the next four days, there's going to a lot of freaking out--my apologies in advance!