Why didn’t I start training sooner?
Why didn’t I lose more weight before now?
Why didn’t I try harder?
I should have started my training plan earlier.
I should have put in more time at the gym.
I shouldn’t have had that pizza and bottle of wine last Saturday night.
I look fat.
My tummy looks huge.
I feel like a fat bastard.
What if my running gear doesn’t fit properly?
What if my fat stomach makes my capris roll down and my top ride up?
What have I done?
Just a little excerpt from the Madness of McCooey which reached fever pitch this morning when I made my merry way down to the Jacob Javits Center to pick up my race bib and goody bag. It was all going so well! I got my number and my timing chip, and I got my Asics ‘marathoner’ technical long sleeve t shirt. Then we went for a nosey around the Expo. I got me some nifty armwarmers, the Other Half got a t shirt. We sampled some Powerbar stuff. Then we spotted a wee crowd of people sitting down and looking up at a screen. A screen displaying a speeded up street view of the marathon course. My heart jumped into my throat, and then slid the whole way back down into my stomach. I don’t know these streets! I don’t know where I’m going! As the distance counter at the bottom hit 18 miles I was thinking – I haven’t run this far before. I’m not ready for this. What the fuck am I doing? I could have cried.
But there’s no use crying over spilt energy gels. All my time is gone, and I can’t change what I’ve done in the past which has brought me to this point. There’s not a great deal I can do in the extreme near future which will affect the outcome of the marathon. Apart from keep my head, take things slowly, and not dwell on the negatives. Whatever happens on the day, happens. I’ll finish this race, even if it kills me, but it isn’t going to be pretty.
Until race day,