A post

It's weird to finally be here.

Just weird.

I always thought that there'd be a million thoughts running through my head at this point. What if this happens or this happens or this doesn't? 

But there's not.  Just excitement, gratitude, and (strangely) peace.  I get to go, I get to start, I get to see what happens.  I don't know how it will turn out, but I get to find out.  And that's awesome.

I think back to about 4 months ago, when I was in a different place.  I had been focused on Philly for months, but that didn't happen. 

4 months ago, I said the same thing I always do when things are hard: the downs are followed by ups, and the way out is always through.

And they are, and it was.  And I'm here.

I don't know what will happen in my race, but I know that I've gotten to the start.  I'm not overtrained; I'm not injured.  And that was my goal.  So many times during this training cycle, I was tempted to push.  To force myself through a workout or a run while ignoring warning signals.  And each time I resisted.  I told my coach at the beginning of this cycle that my ambition was to err on the side of underdoing, and that I was counting on him to crack the whip if I was slacking.

(which he never did, so I guess I did it right).

It was hard - from a mental standpoint this has been a very difficult training cycle - to always try to do less, rather than more.  But it's paid off.   My Philly training cycle was prettier on pixels, but I never got to race.  And now I do.  And that was the point.

And I feel just so incredibly lucky to have had the silent support.  Great company during workouts or in the pool.  Tolerance of my questions.  Messages wishing me good luck.  Hugs and handslaps after my last track workout this Tuesday.  Oddly enough, the good wishes aren't creating pressure; they weave into a blanket of support that warms and calms.

Thank you guys.

And now, I get to run.  The coolest, funnest long run ever.  I get to do my thing.  I can't wait.

To be continued.