Tomorrow is Ragnar.
And there was so much I wanted to write before I ran it. About how I needed to have a bad run in my training and I did, but it was also a good run for different reasons. About the amazing morning of running the road to Cascade Springs with my sister and how I felt myself running straight away from my anxieties even when I was running uphill. I'm afraid I will forget how those two last hard runs felt and I don't want to.
It's 11:58 on the night before a long and exhausting race. I wish I could run, right now, away from these anxieties. Last night I slept for perhaps four hours and the night before I got about six. I'm worried that I'm already running on empty. I'm worried that the running I did on my trip won't have been enough to keep me fit enough. I'm worried about that long uphill distance in the heat of the day. Have I prepared enough? Did I choose the right clothes to run in? Should I bring back ups? Am I forgetting something?
I hate that I'm anxious. I don't want to be. I love running. I love running in races. Some part of me knows the argument against each of my anxieties. Some part knows I will be OK and it is that part that will, strangely enough, make me be OK. OK tomorrow, that is. When I'm really facing that long hill I've been both dreading and anticipating.
Tonight, though, there's not much to do for the pre-race jitters except try to sleep through them. That and say a quiet prayer of thanks for my friend, who just sent me a text wishing me a good race. And oddly enough, those were just the words I needed to raise my confidence.
Hush up, anxiety. Nerves go to sleep. Tomorrow is a day for running!