This time next week I will be resting comfortably on my coach. This time next week I will have a glass of wine in my hand and a medal around my neck. This time next week, my body will be sore from head to toe. This time next week, I will never want to run again. This time next week, despite the pain, I will have a huge smile on my face.
Because this time next week--I will be a marathoner.
I will be celebrating the end of a sixteen week journey and the crowning moment of an adventure that started three years ago. Hopefully. I don't want to jinx anything because anything can happen between now and the finish line. If everything goes well and the sixteen weeks of training pay off---by this time next week, I will be basking in the glory of having run a marathon.
I close my eyes on focus on the feel good parts of this adventure because I'm really nervous about the beginning and middle. My thoughts are consumed with anticipation, self doubt, performance anxiety, excitement, fear, and nerves. Did I train enough? What if I hit the proverbial wall too early and can't finish? I only ran two 20 milers and the second one was rough. I didn't do enough speed work. Am I eating well enough? What if I get hurt? What if I get injured between now and Sunday? What if.............. everything.
I'm allowing the question marks because I know they're going to be replaced with exclamation points soon and my doubt will be replaced with pride. As the questions grow in absurdity (what if I roll my ankle while wearing heels to work and I can't run?), the harder I think about next week. When this will all be over and I won't have to run anymore. I will have achieved a goal I set for myself and will move forward through life with that power.
And as my favorite Righteous Babe (and this blog's namesake) sings:
"The further the horizon
You know the more it holds my gaze
And the foreground's out of focus
but you know I hope it's just a phase"
-ani difranco
The horizon is that finish line and this time next week....
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