Thankfully, I already went through my panic stage for the Clearwater Halfathon. My panicking usually happens closer to a race, so this is kind of strange for me. The race is Sunday, and I have an eerie calm about me.
So why am I so calm?
- I know I can do this. I can run 13.1 miles. Even if I didn’t run for a few weeks around Christmas and the new year, I’m still quite capable. Why? Runners don't lose much V02 max over a 10-day period of inactivity. And if you have to miss two weeks, it only reduces it by 6%. Thanks to Julie, I know this and feel so much better. I love her (not in a weird way … don’t be scared, Julie).
- I’ve done this five times before.
- It does involve big, scary bridges, but the Holiday Halfathon did, too (but not as big and not as scary). Guess what? I actually liked the bridges in that race. It broke up the race. It was something different. It was a challenge. That’s a good thing.
- I'm running mile 11 for my friend, Linda. I've dubbed it "Mile Linda" (sounds better than mile 11, right?). She's been on bed rest during a good deal of her pregnancy. No matter what, that is difficult; but, Linda is a runner, too. So I'm running the 11th mile (her favorite number) in her honor.
- I’m really looking forward to the Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon in St. Pete and view that as my “A” race this year. I love that race. This race will be a build up to that.
- When it comes down to it, it’s only a race. It’s not life or death. I’d love to finally beat my best time, but if I don’t, there’s always another race. It’s not that I’m not taking it seriously or that I don’t want to do well, but on the “what’s-important-in-life” scale, it’s not at the top.