So I had this post that I made earlier in the week, in which I was kvetching and whining about how I just couldn't stand the idea of failure. Thanks for all the encouragement, and to Fe-lady, thanks for all, um, the excitement. I appreciate the energy of the responses.
I've been pretty safe up until now. No cutoff times. No real challenges to just bust my ass. Maybe that's the real reason I haven't had any muscle cramps or blisters. I like to mosy. I don't like being hurried. Mosiers don't get cramps and blisters - they get cutoff times.
I also tend to catastophize. Just a little. E.g., "the sky is falling! the sky is falling!"
Between all the nice encouraging comments, a couple of private emails, and Sweet Baboo's tireless efforts (he actually analyzed my times and splits and compared them to the cutoff of 3:15 pm at SOMA, as well as making a few phone calls to ask questions of race directors, and working up a new training plan for me for the next month, completely removing any and attempts on my part to have any excuse whatsoever for giving up, as he often has done throughout our marriage) I've decided that I can do this. I can make this cutoff.
Plus, we've already paid the registration fee. I'm listed. If I don't show up, I'll be DNS, (did not start) which is far worse than DNF.
In other news, I'm peeling. And itchy. When I get to soma, I'll bring lots of liquid and SPF lotion. Also, this morning, I weighed in at 154 pounds, which means I've now lost 40 pounds since beginning all this madness in January of 2005.
Dread pirate has me on the demotivator kick now, so I'll throw in one more of them from despair, inc. as a last ditch attempt to catastrophize.
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