PANIC (or marathon part 1)

Tomorrow is THE day – Paris marathon starts at 8h45.

It has been two years that I haven’t run a marathon. Last year, despite or due to intensive training I managed to get myself severely injured and could not run. So for two years I have been dreaming about crossing the finishing line before the timer hits 3h.

Now I am panicking. My legs feel heavy after a long shift at work last night and the temperature is hitting high numbers, forcing me to rethink my outfit. Also, for the first time even I will be having a rather large support group on the way.

Post-marathon will be a picnic that will break my long 9 weeks without alcohol and another few without chocolate. And from there I’ll go to work to tell whether I really deserve my “iron man” title – or “woman” like our barman corrected – which is obvious, I like to think.

So now, I am panicking. The level of panic is reaching the levels where you think you want to turn around and run the other way.

My sister sent me a scarf. Maybe that’ll bring me luck. She is pretty fast. And fit beyond imagination. Maybe there is a transfer of energy. I hope.

Or maybe I’ll go a boil some pasta and stop whining.

But I am panicking.

But then again 3h is much easier than 5h, when you think of it. At least it’ll be over quickly. And then I can have champagne when others are still running. Definitely better – longer could become boring.

But I am still panicking.