stop reading HERE if your own picture of me is ladylike and dainty. carry on if you are okay with no holds barred poop talk.
- i took a shower today. after, i had extra time to get ready and since i don't wear makeup or fix my hair, i picked up the nail clippers and set to trimming my toe nails. just before making the first incision, i pictured myself cutting in too deep on a nail and reeling from that toe pain on mile 12. i whipped those clippers down faster than you can say "you are paying good money to run 13.1 miles?? what an idiot."
- after giving my recent pooping history a great deal of thought this morning, i realized my bowels have been under active for the past two days. after picturing a turtle poking it's head out on mile 9, i promptly drank loads of coffee and then spent beaucoup time in the bathroom vigorously rubbing my outer thighs coaxing over-activity. i have googled pictures on the internet of peeps that shit their pants in marathons. i don't want to be the first to do it in a half mary.
- my kids and i ate chipotle (my favorite) for supper yesterday. last night when my daughter roni and i went to lift weights at the gym, i was stinking up the free weights room over and over. the farting was ridiculous and amped up at least 10 fold over my usual performance. fortunately we were the only souls at the gym at 10 on thursday night or i would have had to wrestle with the distracting (not to mention uncomfortable) task of holding it all in. last night's farting-fracas fresh on my mind ... i thought of my lunch date today. my bestie had picked mexican food. with another dousing of mexican food, i pictured myself with uncontrollable flatulence on race day and i can't handle one more race type thing to worry about. i demanded a lunch relocation and scarfed down a plate of fettucinni instead.
- picking a pair of underwear for today was a 2 minute process which is 1 minute 55 seconds longer than it usually takes. i've no more time to clean laundry before the big race so my first pair sampled had to be tossed back into my undies bin. it was so comfortable and no muss no fuss that i knew these just had to be my race-day pair. (why is a single underwear garment referred to as a pair of underwear? because there are two butt cheeks contained inside? and should the proceeding sentence have started with 'they were' rather than 'it was'?) i pictured myself being snuggy free on race day. ahhhhh.
if you think of it on sunday morning, send me thoughts such as these that i will be telling myself over and over when i have the insane urge to walk:
"keep putting one foot in front of the other, greta"
"think of that fat burger and double basket of fries waiting for you at the end, greta"
"when it's over you don't have to ever do this again but today you are doing it, keep running, greta"
"some people don't get to run, you do, so get your ass moving, greta"
"your legs are strong. your legs are willing. you can ice the shit out of them later, greta"
alright folks, that wraps it up for today's over-sharing of pre-race anxieties. deep breath. i can do it. i can do it. i can do it.
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