Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Wow. It's 4 days away!

FUCK!

Sorry Mom, but it's all I can really type to sum up all my emotions right now.  I'm scared.  Like out of my mind scared.

People say to me in response, "WHAT!?!  How can you be scared of running?  You've been running for 8 months straight.  Frankly, I'm sick of hearing about it. You are going to do fine!"

You know what I want to say to that?

Well.  My mother reads this so I'm not going to tell you. (see above for an example)

In essence, what they are saying is correct.  I have been running, I have prepared, I am ready.  However they are not necessarily addressing the concerns I have regarding my up-coming MARATHON run.  That's right, I said MARATHON.  I mean, as legend has it, a man DIED at the end of 26.2 miles.  (Though that may have been proven historically false)  Irrelevant!  26.2 is still a sh*t long way to run.  A sh*t long way to tell your mind everything is alright... just.  keep.  going.

Since January 17, 2010, the day I signed up for the Chicago Marathon I have been preparing for the moment just four days away.  To date, I've run 3 half marathons in a race setting, and in training have run 14, 16, 18, and 22 miles.  Textbook says I'm prepared.

And this is what my mind tells me:
1)  You SUCKED at those 22 miles.  You walked 5 of them!
2)  Remember how hard for a time you had in Austin?  Ya, it's going to be like that....but worse.
3)  Nan-uh-nan-uh-nan-uh!  Your foot injury is going to be a prob-lem!
4)  Dang, you haven't even run a mile since your last long run?  Ha!  Your training is probably half what it used to be.
...and so forth.

Damn, my mind is MEAN.  Then again, Betsy could have told you that.

Bottom line is, I'm scared of not finishing.  I'm scared of disappointing myself.  I'm scared my mind will get the better of me and not me it.  I'm scared that one of my siblings is going to do better than me. (Uh, did I say that out loud?)

At the end of the day one thought, one word, brings it all back into perspective.  PISKUN.  WE are doing this for him.  It's us out there.  Not just me.  All of us, together.

Jennifer, the oldest.
Christopher, the man.
Sally, the strength.
Molly, the punk.
Betsy, the rock.
Mom, the cheerleader.

It's funny what happens when you are hesitant, scared, and anxious about an inevitable event.  In this case the marathon.  Your mind quickly reviews all the times in your life you've felt similar and reminds itself the outcome.  For me, the only other time in my life that I can remember being this freaked was when I was six years old.  Ironically it was in the exact same city I sit today.

My family took a trip to Los Angeles for Disneyland and Knott's Berry Farm.  I couldn't tell you much about Disneyland other than I remember loving Space Mountain and thinking the Matador was the scariest creature to ever have lived; and as such, questioned why it even lived in Disneyland at all.  But the moment I remember like it was yesterday, was that yellow, one loop roller coaster.  You know, the one that is a straight line that suddenly shoots you up, through one loop and back...backwards.  I remember staring at it.  Shaking my head.  "NO WAY!  Nun, uh.  I'm not going on that!  No, daaaaaaaaaaad!" being two seconds away from a complete meltdown.

"You're going."  He replied.  "Piskun's try everything once."

Needless to say, I LOVED every second of that ride.  I believe I made my brother ride it with me 3 straight times that day.  Today, there is no ride I won't go on...at least once.

Funny.  I feel the exact same tantrum brewing today.  The same adamant refusal to try something so daunting and dangerous, so unfathomable.  I just want to run away (figuratively of course) from the task.  But at the same time, I hear that phrase... "Piskun's try everything once."

Jennifer, I couldn't think of a better phrase for our custom made, black and yellow running shirts.  In fact, I think Dad would cry to see we've embraced his yellow/black life-long obsession.

26.2 to go.  This one's for, as Chris would say, you Pop!

1 comment:

  1. For starters -- it's technically 3 days and some hours in change until M-day. So, you really have one less day for nerves! Think positively. That special day -- The day we have all trained for -- or make that, the day YOU have trained for; the day YOU have dreamed, talked, and visualized; the day that YOU will conquer your fears and be able to tell everyone -- hell yeah, I ran a marathon. Not everyone can say that phrase and it's a badge of honor.

    And, as far as kicking the bucket during the race -- at least wait until the end so we can put in your obit that you finished a marathon! just kidding!

    WE can and WILL do this. WE can and WILL finish. WE can and WILL make it. WE can and WILL have that picture at the end of all of us holding our medals, smiling, laughing, and barely walking. Of course, as the caboose in this group -- y'all will be waiting a while for me -- but by, God, with the help of ole Wally -- I'll cross and wave to him as I do. I even got my toenails painted yellow in his honor.

    We can and We will do it. Suck it up. Gimme a break. Piskuns try everything once. Go play in traffic. I did. Never leave a birdie put short. You cannot make chicken soup out of chicken shit. What is the name of the song and who wrote it. and last, but not least -- fame will mix with 66.

    Let's do it. Let's knock 'em dead. Let's take chicago by storm. We are ready. We are primed. We will rock!!

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