D-Day or race day, whichever

This is it. 48 hours from now I’ll be mid-race. I can’t decide if I’m nervous, excited or about to throw up. It’s probably equal parts of all three.

One moment I’m sure I can do this; I know my zone and once in it, it’s a comfortable place to be. Moments later I doubt my readiness. That’s normal, right?

It’s race kit pick up today. That means presents. Like chips – only not the edible kind and new threads – the sweat-wicking kind. Sexy, eh?

Actually running is damn sexy. Also smelly. Really you shouldn’t be hugging anyone after a 1/2 marathon, but you feel all elated and celebratory so you do. A wet, stinky, sticky hug. Which is kinda gross and good at the same time. And what about those women who look all glowy and composed, who are they? Not me. I’m not so much flushed and dewy as beet-red and blotchy-faced. And we’ve mentioned the sweatiness. Although if you come near me I will hug you. …. Shutting up now …. I ramble when I’m nervous.

Soooo – These will be my inspiration on Sunday:

I’ve seen the movies. Those guys run fast and they don’t stop.


I get the message.


On it.

See you at the finish line.

Kat @ jackstrawlane

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