Dreams of Vermont

I kept telling myself that I had plenty of time and was not worried about it. I missed the start, actually, and I had to miss my McDonald’s breakfast in order to make it to the starting line. I kept returning to the starting line, for some reason. And on top of that, it was raining. Just one of them things.

At least that was all in the dream. I leave for Vermont in the morning, and I’m a bundle of nervous energy as I think of all the preparation that has come and gone. There is no time left for a long run. Were 60-70 mile weeks enough? Was the 30 mile long run sufficient? Are my puny hills in Boston adequate training for the 9000′ of vertical ascent that await come Sunday? Will my newly appearing tendonitis in my right foot anchor my feet into the ground and complain on every step? I suppose all of these questions will be answered in full by 6:40 pm on Sunday.

My goal is to finish the race in the 12 hours allotted. I will go out conservatively. I will keep moving forward. I resolve to let only the clock stop me. The fear of the dreaded DNF looms, I must admit. Success in this race means only to give what I have. I think I will be okay for the first 20 miles. The next 10 miles will be painful. The last 20 miles will be fully mental. My race strategy? Keep moving forward. As David Horton says, “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.” As K’naan says, “Never let them see you down, smile while you’re bleeding.” Come Sunday. I cannot wait.

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