It’s happening. After 4.5 months of not racing and inconsistent training and foot pain and more cross training than I’ve ever done, I’m finally getting the opportunity to race the 3k tomorrow!
Of course, all the usual doubts are floating through my mind. I’ve hardly done a stride in the past couple months. Monday’s track workout was rough. My body has been hurting for the past several days. I’ve been stressed out from a vicious accounting midterm that I just finished an hour ago. Have I been overeating? I didn’t sleep enough last night. I think I’m in good shape, and so does everyone else, but what if this objective track race reveals that I’m actually a slug? Should I expect to PR after all this time? All the usual things.
But. BUT. What I want to keep in mind is that I get to race tomorrow. Not everyone gets this opportunity. Who cares if I don’t PR? (Nobody but me, and maybe my coach.) Who cares if I go out too hard and die? I’ve stepped foot on the track like five times cumulatively since December, and it’s probably going to show. I’m nowhere near as sharp as I’d like to be. My pre-race rituals and mentality are rusty. My feet are not used to spikes anymore. I can’t even get up on my toes, which is a problem and will probably put a limit on how fast I can run/kick. But I get to go out there tomorrow and run as hard as I can and see where I’m at! And I’m so excited!
This was just a quick post, but I wanted to get it out there. If I have a good race tomorrow, I’ll be thrilled and grateful and have some decisions to make regarding the rest of the season and my feet. If I have a bad race, hey, it happens all the time. There is more to me than my identity as a runner. There is more to every runner than their identity as a runner.