I am all packed (well mostly), the rooms in the hotel are booked, I have my registration and ID–the big day is drawing closer and closer. Am I excited? No. I’m terrified and scared.

According to (and taken from) Dictionary.Com, there are numerous definitions of fear:

1.a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil,pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feelingor condition of being afraid.
2.a specific instance of or propensity for such a feeling: anabnormal fear of heights.
3.concern or anxiety; solicitude: a fear for someone’s safety.
I think I fit into the first definition of fear concerning Mooseman. Fear, that I cannot do it, anxiety because I’m still sick and feel horrible and have missed some training sessions. Most of all, I am fearful of not being able to finish this race. And, I know it doesn’t matter to anyone else but me. I actually found myself breaking down infront of someone– the tears of intense anxiety over my health and the race and fear of not finishing just poured down my cheeks. 70.3 miles. That’s no sprint distance triathlon. That’s not the duathlons I’ve done, where there is a total of 4 miles of running, and 14-18 miles of biking. This is much more. Much more.
The anxiety is so strong, couple with being sick, has left me with no appetite whatsoever, but for the first time my stomach settled when one of my biggest supporters came over and we made pesto pasta and watched 127 hrs. Finally, I was able to consume the pesto pasta. And throughout the movie I was able to contain all the feelings of doubt I have towards doing this, and keep the tears at bay (well, he may not know this, but there were a few of Molly’s tears on his shirt–and they were from the movie. Thats a lie, the few tears that were shed were from the movie and my anxiety).
But, I’ve found, you need to keep it one day at a time. One step. With the swim. First stroke, then again, then again. Then get on your bike like I’ve done in the past and pedal, one rotation, two rotations, and keep moving. With the 13.1miles comes around, just like above, move one foot infront of the other. If I have to walk, I’ll walk. I’ve done all of those, simply not together.
Yes, I’ve competed three marathons with no training whatsoever, and my first two duathlons were done at last minutes notice. Then again, that’s different.
This post may not make too much sense; a zillion things are going through my head at the moment. I think it comes down to how you feel mentally. Physically, I am drained. From work and a broken heart (my heart decides to go haywire on me which isn’t really helping my trying to stay calm and cardiology appointment will be a priority after the race), I am stressed to the max. And this is my vacation–putting myself through even more pain and torture. I definitely need a real vacation this summer, with no races. No stress. A relaxing, doing nothing type of vacation.
I keep needing to remind myself, this is fun. FUN. For enjoyment purposes. Yet, 70.3 miles right now feels the furthest thing from fun I’ve ever felt. (Not to mention, I’m having major grammar issues).
I never listen to Eminem, but the lyrics are actually pretty motivating.
OH and a side note: I found my flip flops the next day at the lake! Humanity can still be trusted! It was the wind that stole them!

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When was the last crazy post written?

June 2011

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