A couple of weeks before a race:
1) I consider ramping up the training to include at least a few 12-15k longer runs.
2) I shop for a new pair of socks.
3) I find myself in weird conversations about the state of my feet.
4) I often think about my weight and wonder how it can be that after all of these years (and we're talking decades, folks), I can't drop 5 pounds to be lighter on my feet, and be so much faster.
5) I actually do hill training and my version of a fartlek or two.
I've definitely acquired the vocabulary of running, if not the physique.
A couple of days:
1) I wonder where the time has gone.
2) I realize that I didn't do enough long runs.
3) I think about not doing the race at all.
4) I shop for new socks.
5) I screw up the taper.
The night before:
1) I end up staying up too late.
2) I remember sometimes not to cut my toe nails.
3) I make sure to have gum, GU, lip balm and bus fare (and i.d. & healthcard) ready to stow.
4) I lay out my gear: race belt, clothes, music, headphones, hat, and the socks that I have paid way too much for...
5) I consider not doing the race.
The day:
1) I get up one hour before I have to leave, which is often 4:00 a.m.
2) I have a giant cup of super strong coffee and chase this with an advil or two.
3) I have one banana.
4) I plan to get to the site 30 minutes early to line up at the porto-potty, whether I have to go or not.
5) I consider not doing the race.
So far, I have always finished the races started, which I should probably celebrate a little more than I do, but perhaps the running takes on the qualities of the runner. Wouldn't running be boring if it didn't?
