From 2011 Archives
In about two hours I’m going to do something I never believed I was capable of doing: run a 5K. And I’m freaking out.
It’s not as though I don’t think I can do it. Last May I tried jogging on a lark during one of my walks and after three months of trial and error (and aches, and pains and a pricey set of running shoes to prove I was taking this seriously) I worked my way up to a sustained jog of 45 minutes. More plod than jog really, but I can make it 3.15 miles without stopping.
I’ve been practicing for weeks, making sure I can actually succeed before I throw my hat over the fence and officially enter a 5K, and yet here I am, a nervous bundle of potential energy. Sweaty palms, queasy stomach, my mind alternately wondering what I was thinking signing up for this-how could I possibly run an actual 5K, and then thinking this shouldn’t be a big deal as I’m making it out to be. I haven’t felt this nervous since high school drama class and we were about to do our first performance of Our Town.
I’m petrified, and I have to keep reminding myself that at least I know I’ve done everything I can to prepare for this. I’ve run this long several times before, I’m adequately fed and watered to sustain myself through the race, I have my hat and sunglasses to shield me from the sun, and iPod playlist with songs that are calculated to measure my distance as I run so I know exactly where I am in the race.
There is nothing more I could have done to get me ready. There should be nothing to worry about.
Except that I hope I get there in time, that I don’t get lost driving to the place, that I’ll find a spot to park, that no one will key my car out of meanness while I’m away, or steal my hidden purse out of my trunk, or that I’ll start walking in the wrong direction on my way to the registration area and not figure it out until five miles later, or I’ll lose my directions or my registration number is wrong and they don’t let me do it, or I’ll suddenly get a cramp, or I suddenly have to go to the bathroom really bad at mile 2, or any number of random fears that are bubbling to the surface all of a sudden that I didn’t even think of until just now. . .
Ok, breathe.
New experiences are always scarier just before they happen than they are after they’re done. Right now I feel like I’m standing at the bottom of a really high mountain that I’m about to climb and it looks insurmountable. But I’m here and it’s going to happen, and I hope that once I get to the top I realize it wasn’t that hard of a climb at all, and the view is still spectacular.
All the same, I’m leaving an hour and a half early to make sure I find a place to park.