A day of moments.  And all of it in the name of racing five thousand meters on the track.

8am to 11am = panic drip feeding

  • Waking up alone in the house with my heart racing with anticipation and having to calm myself down.
  • Spending an hour working on my affirmations and race plan with my knee shaking under the kitchen table.
  • Force feeding myself a big breakfast despite not having much of an appetite.
  • Calling Jesse (who is racing Escape from Alcatraz Traithon this weekend in San Francisco) to help ground me back into relaxation and calm.
  • Swearing that I’d start going to yoga again to work on controlling my energy.

11:00am to 4:30 = peacefulness

  • Shaking out with a 2 mile jog and strides with Jemma and feeling instantly better with company around.
  • Making killer sandwiches with 35 ingredients from our two refrigerators and devouring them.
  • Watching “Its Complicated” on the couch with Jem and Steph, laughing our heads off, forgetting there was a race coming up.
  • Driving to get a cup of coffee and a treat to leave the bat cave and get some fresh air.
  • Getting WAY too buzzed off one latte due to piling caffeine on top of an already naturally heightened nervous system, resulting in jittery hands and one of those “we figured out how to save the world” conversations.
  • Going our separate ways for an hour of preparation before driving to the meet together.

4:30-5:30 = I dont’ give a shiz

  • Deciding not to shower, shave, do my hair, wear my signature headband, or wear mascara (all things I always do before a race).
  • Packing up my bag with spikes, watch, recovery drink, water, powergel, inhaler, warm dry clothes for when it inevitably rains, etc.
  • Putting on my uniform; deciding my butt looks cuter in buns than in hotpants.
  • Laying on the couch and determining that none of it matters.
  • Imagining what this day would be like had I chosen music rather than running when I was 13.
  • Kicking myself.
  • Smiling at how many crazy thoughts go through your head before a race, especially when you haven’t done it in a while.
  • Moving my energy back to positivity and getting to a place where I want to compete; loving how it feels to turn on the right switch.

5:55-7:20 = race preparation

  • Wont bore you with the details.

7:20-7:35 = delays

  • Waiting, waiting, waiting.
  • Walking past all the spectators, hearing my name shouted, seeing some familiar faces, feeling relaxed.
  • Final strides, stripping down, and lining up.

7:35 and beyond = Competing

  • Gun goes off.
  • Oohh, this feels nice. Great rhythm here.  I could do this forever.  I’m awesome.
  • Holy crap!  This is terrible!  What was I thinking?  Mommy.
  • Bell lap, competitiveness trumps pain, lets see what these spikes and this body can do.
  • Crowd goes wild.
  • I’m flying.
  • Crowd goes wild.
  • I win.

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