Don't you want to be me?

Okay, so we're t-minus three days till marathon day. (Seriously, if you want to know where I'm going to run, just email me. I will tell you. For obvious reasons, I don't want to post it here.) I am doing my normal, pre-race freak out. Times one thousand. I am eating well, this is honestly the most balanced seven days of eating I've likely ever had in my life. It's not that I think I am going to be a better or faster runner if I eat clean this week, it's just that I want to leave NO room for error. Keeping the system, uh, regulated is job one. Also, skipping on the sugar and large quantities of fat (read: grease burrito from that place on the corner) is probably helping to calm my nerves quite a bit. However, I have not given up caffeine because, let's face it, it is the juice of life and the purpose for my wide-eyed existence. Diet Pepsi is my drink of choice. Yes, I'm sure the aspartame is doing a number on me, got it, thanks.

I'm also having a super-difficult time concentrating at work. I have two out of three projects I need to finish my the end of today, finished. However, I have been putting one off because I have to call this one lady in particular to finish it up and, gah!, I do not want to talk to her. She is just a downer. She's grouchy and lazy and never excited about anything and, my gosh, I try not to judge but someone needs to tell her it is NOT okay to wear sweat pants to work. It is NOT. Believe me, honey, if it were I'd be all over that. I'd be here in my flannel jammies and my slippers because that is my most favorite "outfit" for this time of year, but no, it's not okay! NOT! So, I don't want to call her. If my mind weren't going a bajillion miles a minute, I'd get into the fact that this woman and her attitude and her attire represent everything that I don't want to be but gah!, I have 26.2 miles to think about. And also, packing. And also, a carry on. And also, errands to do before I go. No deep thinking here.

I don't know if this makes sense or not, but I am possibly more excited about going to this marathon and meeting up with some friends I haven't seen in a very long time than I am to actually run. Sure, I've trained and battled injury and suffered through a year of ridiculous knee problems but really, there are just a few people that I can't wait to throw my arms around and hug, possibly to death. That is how much I love them. They are funny (like beyond hilarious, wear-your-Depends funny), supportive, kind and my gosh, MY friends. I wish there was some way I could tell them how motivated I am by just being in their presence. I hope, with every step I take in that race, I can find some way to be half as wonderful to them as they have been to me. I hate that miles have to stretch between us but I love, love, love that we are coming together this weekend. It is honestly going to be one for the record books and if I had talent and time (and my mind weren't doing that bajillion miles a minute thing) I would post some kind of video of me and the sheer joy bursting from every part of me due to the excitement I'm experiencing right now. Phew!

And oh, yes, there is that 26.2 to worry about. You know, I am not usually an outward type of hopeful person but, my gosh, I just hope and pray that this confidence and reassurance I have in my head and heart right now for this race is real. I am so thankful to have even been able to train these last sixteen weeks. SO thankful. And I just hope that these day dreams I'm having about the course and the people and my friends and that finish line are somehow based in reality. I am sure this all seems a little insane, but you know, that's me! I'm a little cracked but, I think, in a good way. In a way, I hope, that gets me through this thing. Also, I'm a little worried about not getting up in time, not being able to do "business" properly before the start and about forgetting something (like shoes, bodyglide and safety pins). Whew! See, a little cracked.

I'm off for a few days, hopefully to return sufficiently tired, satisfied and thrilled to have a break. And if that doesn't work, I can always just add some rum to that Diet Pepsi.