Demonition

The demons are out.

Four-day countdown to race day and my husband is seriously considering calling Keith, our local exorcist, again.

My resting heart rate has to be somewhere near 200bpm, I can’t sleep properly, I’m jumpy, somewhat nauseous, my ankle has developed a constant ache and perhaps most distressing, I still can’t figure out who put the caramel in the Caramilk bar.

Seems my usual pre-race anxiety has morphed into an imaginary Alex Trebek who sits on my shoulder and won’t shut up:

“I’ll take ‘all the things that can go wrong on race day’ for $1000 Alex”

“The answer is ‘beaten by a three-legged overweight raccoon.”

“ What is Rebecca Gardiner’s race result?”

Talk about Jeopardy!

Is it too late to change my sub-4 Toronto Marathon goal now?  Just starting a marathon is great… right?

Well… thinking about it: Yes and Yes. (Despite what fellow blogger Rory Gilfillan might say )

My goal is what it is. I’ll make it or I won’t. But I do know, I’ve worked my butt off (literally) to get to Sunday’s start line and I have to be proud of that.

I’m ready.

I’ve never trained harder for a race. I’m faster, ten-pounds lighter and my head is in the game. This time, I know it’s going to hurt and I’m okay with that.

Of course, I can’t  predict exactly how race day will go down, but I’ve done all I can to prepare for it – my iPod is loaded, I’ve run most of the route, figured out my water and gel stops, organized supporters, picked out my outfit and planned my pee breaks (apologies in advance to anyone whose apartment looks down onto Rosedale Valley Road and to the owner of the yellow mailbox on Chaplin Cres).

It’s calling for rain and 17degree heat. Dr. Stevil tells us not to let conditions get us down before we even start, so I’m not going to do that. I’m following his lead and saying “hooray, soaking wet feet will make it easier for my toenails to fall off!”

Stay tuned readers, all will be revealed come Sunday.

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