I get asked five times a day, "Are you ready???"
The short answer is, "No."
The long answer is, "I will never be ready. Ready implies that I have trained to the maximum, creating in my body a finely tuned athletic machine ready to go forth and conquer 26.2 miles with no sign of apprehension, only full of confidence that I can and will finish this race in a respectable time. My ready score is at zero. Instead, I have trained as hard as I can, through sickness, holidays, and being a mom. The only athletic machines to which my body can be equated are those shaky belts they used to wrap around people's hips to jiggle the fat away. I have absolutely zero aspirations of any sort of respectable time, only somewhat middling confidence that I will finish in under 7 hours which is barely walking speed."
The truly sad part is that I usually find myself apologizing to others (all of whom initiated the conversation to lend support and encouragement and get dragged into Crazytown) in advance for even attempting this foolishness. I spend way too much time talking about how I'm not actually a "runner" so much as a "mover". How I might not technically "belong" at that race with actual runners. I hope it doesn't come off as fake humility, 'cause it's not. I am slow, SLOW SLOW SLOW, and I walk a lot. For some reason, I feel like I should apologize for that and that's dumb.
So I'm embracing it. I am a mover and I'm gonna move myself 26.2 miles
There are fifteen gazillion things I could be doing to get myself feeling more ready, but instead I have decided to focus on 4 of them and leave the rest to chance.
1) Music list (help me! Need suggestions! I need everything from church music to punch you in the face music!)
2) Last minute shopping for race day essentials
3) Oufit (you
4) 3 more short runs
I'm going to finish, and I hope to be alive after doing so. It's not going to be fast, it's not going to be pretty, I might have to walk half of it or more, but it's going to happen.
So no, I'm not ready. I'll never be ready. But I'm coming for you, Mouse.