Here comes Philly

 
I’m full of what I’m sure coach would call “healthy pre-race jitters.”  I’ve been pretty successful keeping them quelled;  I like to picture a huge volume knob in my head, and when it gets too loud in there, I mentally give it a big counterclockwise turn.  

Harder to turn that volume down in your sleep.  Last night I dreamt it was race day, and in my attempt to go out conservatively, I somehow accidently walked the first mile.  Oops.  And so then I was nervous, trying to make up for lost time and got stuck in the security checkpoint at the halfway point.  Yup, just like the airport, complete with metal detector and everyone emptying their pockets into plastic trays, as I stood in line freaking out and looking at my watch….

Ok.  That said.  Here we go.  I don’t have huge expectations for this race, and it almost certainly is going to be the slowest marathon I’ve ever run.  I’m not going to be one of those women who has a baby and comes back with a huge PR.  But I’m proud of my training.  I made a commitment to my schedule, and until the taper, I’d only missed one four mile run.  Sure, I often had to trade quality for simply getting the miles in (running 7 miles home from work at 10pm, for example), and I can count on the fingers of one hand how many tempo runs and speedwork sessions I got in.  Junk in, junk out, right?  But I was consistent, and my mileage, while not the highest, was decent (peaked at 45 miles).  And, as my husband has been telling me, this is the first time Seb gets to cheer on his mommy.