I’m starting to get twitchy.
12 days until my first race of the season, and I’m already having race dreams. You know the kind, right? Wherein you
- get lost on the way to the race (because of a comet that is about to hit Earth) and show up late and miss your wave
- forget some critical item you needed for the next leg of the race or spend a lot of time fumbling around looking for it in transition/your car/a cabin in the woods surrounded by dinosaurs
- have to do some crazy out-of-order race like bike/roll a log through the forest/run/shoot your way off an island of prehistoric deep sea creatures/swim with bike gear on.
Come to think of it, Jeff’s addiction to SciFi Saturday may be my undoing.
Many of my friends are racing this upcoming weekend at Oceanside 70.3 or New Orleans 70.3. I know these are early-season races and yet I feel so behind the curve because I’m not doing much yet.
I keep telling myself, it’s just a sprint. Not in any way meaning to demean the race but to remind my brain that there are longer races to worry about this year and why the hell does it keep obsessing over this one?
Anyway, 12 days and counting. One more week of good hard workouts to prep my body for what lies ahead and then likely a lighter week in anticipation of my first race effort of the year. Next week, I will allow my mind to worry about planning, making sure my gear is laid out, and begin to formulate a race plan.
At the very least, I will consider race day a success if I make it out of the water without being eaten alive by guppy-sized mutant pirahnas, complete the ride without being plucked from my saddle by a hungry pterodactyl, and outrun the stray Mansquito.