What does it all mean?

As I obsess, pack, and continue to view the course map and profile for Sunday's run, I find myself asking, why do I do this?

Every time I do that the answer is different.

So this time, the answer is, because it makes me feel like I'm in control. 

I don't have a lot of control over things, and actually that's fine with me. There was a time that I was in control over most of my life, and I worked hard, and it was exhausting. 

Being in charge meant that when things needing doing, I knew that they'd get done, but it wore me down. I'm not naturally a leader. I just do my thing and hope it means something; I believe in the starfish story, and I go on the assumption that everyone I meet could be that one person to whom I could make a difference.

Leadership makes me want to break out in hives. So after spending about the first half of my life working and struggling and being largely successful in my endevors, I was happy to turn it over to someone else. Sweet Baboo is one of those natural-born leaders; he does all the planning and arranging, and he surrounds me in a nice, big bubble in which I am protected. There are contingencies for every possibility...I am insured and protected in every way I can be.

Still...

Every once in a while, I like to take a little vacation in setting a goal and meeting it under my own steam, through my own fortitude.  That's what running a marathon does for me, or finishing an ironman, or an ultra trail ran. I start out alone, experience my own little worry and drama, and  usually finish alone, and it's mine, all mine. 

No amount of planning will make up for whether or not I persevere.

So.  Sunday.

I have a turn around at mile 20ish.  I have 5-1/2 hours to get there.  There's another station at miles 34, and I have to reach that one by 4:45.  

In either case, no kidding, if I don't get there in time I get a truck ride back to the start line and I'm not allowed to finish.  This is done for safety reasons, but it takes away my "sure thing."  but you know, I need that every once in a while - that push, that extra element of my own, self-imposed bit of drama and danger.  

I've been for my pre-race massage; a little something different this time from Lorna, who does trigger-point stuff.  Don't know what the means except that her hands are crazy strong and it hurts like hell but when I woke up this morning, and all day, I haven't felt a whisper from my IT band since.  Orders are to stretch 2x day.  

Tomorrow I'll get up, drop off Mini-baboo at the DEP meeting, and then pick up Sweet Baboo from the airport.  Then we're going to have pictures taken for The Challenge.  Then we'll head down to Hillsboro for packet pickup. 

Eep!

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