...and I'm happy to report, I'm better now.
One nap and one surprise visit from the UPS guy with my new chocolate knee-high-three-button Uggs did the trick. After emotionally vomiting all over this blog yesterday, I forced myself to quiet my mind and took a lovely nap. I woke up to find my sore throat gone, my sour mood vanished, the wind died down considerably, and there was a giant box on my doorstep from the good people at Nordstrom. With my new boots on, Scotty and I went on a much-needed playdate and I found myself slowly returning to normal.
Bit of an emotional roller coaster, I know.
Part of the drama, aside from the JLLV Sage, was trying to figure out how I was going to squeeze a four-mile run in. It was pouring and freezing in the morning (and I wasn't feeling good), and then by the time Scotty was down, it was after 7:30pm. That meant even if I hit the pavement at 7:45pm, I was a.) going to not be able to chat with my husband at all that night and b.) not going to be showered or in bed until at least 10pm.
So I scrapped the run.
The words of one of our coaches came to my mind, as she had strongly cautioned us against over-exerting ourselves the week before the race. She was quick to point out: if you need sleep, sleep. Now is not the time to push yourself.
Needless to say, I listened.
My two-mile run this morning was helpful (legs did not fall off, I learned that doubling up on shirts only makes me hotter and more uncomfortable, so I'm back to my original outfit for the race) and I'm *hopefully* back to my normal state of mind. The Sage is what it is; it's been sent out electronically (whew!) but we're still waiting on the Bulk Mail aspect of it to be completed. Short of declaring war on the United States Postal Service (which I am seriously considering), I just have to accept that there are things I cannot control (like the employees at the Bulk Mail division, all of whom deserve to be fired).
And with that, I'm not crying, melting down, feeling glum, or inhaling my weight in Junior Mints (all things I did yesterday).
I will say, however, that at one point of my temporary marathon psychosis, I stumbled upon an article on Yahoo! about Adriana Lima. She's that Victoria Secret model that just walked during their yearly fashion show? Anyways, I didn't watch the fashion show (or see who got to wear the million-dollar diamond bra), but the article was about the crazy diet she goes on six weeks before the show. Like any normal American female, I was curious to see how she starved herself, and amid the details about her twice-daily work-outs and liquid diets, there was a quote from a researcher. It said:
"It's like she training for a marathon or something."
And, because I was feeling more fragile than usual, my first thought was, "HOLY SH*T. I am training for a marathon. Was I supposed to do all of this stuff?"
Total panic. Total, irrational panic, but kind of like that feeling of showing up to take the SATs on Sunday and realizing it was held on Saturday. Like, OMG, how did I not know this earlier?
My rational brain kicked in eventually, with helpful thoughts like, "Dehydrating yourself for 12 hours is not the way to run a marathon" and "No one can survive on a liquid diet for six weeks, particularly when you need energy to run." Victoria Secret models are a little different than runners (just a tad), and I am very, very thankful I don't have to run in my underwear. Trust me, no one wants to see that. So whatever that researcher meant did not apply to me, and I am not going to give a second thought.
But I will say, having been uber-excited on Tuesday and terrified on Thursday, I'm starting to feel a bit emotionally exhausted. I'm ready for this race to be over. I'm ready to return to the land of normal people, who wear cotton socks to the gym and don't count their grams of fiber due to an overwhelming fear of explosive, unexpected diarrhea.
I'm looking forward to being normal again.
Hope everyone has a good weekend! I'm sure I'll have a lot to say on Monday morning.
The Las Vegas Rock 'n' Roll Marathon 52.5 hours. I still have all of my toenails, and more importantly, my sanity. Wish me luck!!
One nap and one surprise visit from the UPS guy with my new chocolate knee-high-three-button Uggs did the trick. After emotionally vomiting all over this blog yesterday, I forced myself to quiet my mind and took a lovely nap. I woke up to find my sore throat gone, my sour mood vanished, the wind died down considerably, and there was a giant box on my doorstep from the good people at Nordstrom. With my new boots on, Scotty and I went on a much-needed playdate and I found myself slowly returning to normal.
Bit of an emotional roller coaster, I know.
Part of the drama, aside from the JLLV Sage, was trying to figure out how I was going to squeeze a four-mile run in. It was pouring and freezing in the morning (and I wasn't feeling good), and then by the time Scotty was down, it was after 7:30pm. That meant even if I hit the pavement at 7:45pm, I was a.) going to not be able to chat with my husband at all that night and b.) not going to be showered or in bed until at least 10pm.
So I scrapped the run.
The words of one of our coaches came to my mind, as she had strongly cautioned us against over-exerting ourselves the week before the race. She was quick to point out: if you need sleep, sleep. Now is not the time to push yourself.
Needless to say, I listened.
My two-mile run this morning was helpful (legs did not fall off, I learned that doubling up on shirts only makes me hotter and more uncomfortable, so I'm back to my original outfit for the race) and I'm *hopefully* back to my normal state of mind. The Sage is what it is; it's been sent out electronically (whew!) but we're still waiting on the Bulk Mail aspect of it to be completed. Short of declaring war on the United States Postal Service (which I am seriously considering), I just have to accept that there are things I cannot control (like the employees at the Bulk Mail division, all of whom deserve to be fired).
And with that, I'm not crying, melting down, feeling glum, or inhaling my weight in Junior Mints (all things I did yesterday).
I will say, however, that at one point of my temporary marathon psychosis, I stumbled upon an article on Yahoo! about Adriana Lima. She's that Victoria Secret model that just walked during their yearly fashion show? Anyways, I didn't watch the fashion show (or see who got to wear the million-dollar diamond bra), but the article was about the crazy diet she goes on six weeks before the show. Like any normal American female, I was curious to see how she starved herself, and amid the details about her twice-daily work-outs and liquid diets, there was a quote from a researcher. It said:
"It's like she training for a marathon or something."
And, because I was feeling more fragile than usual, my first thought was, "HOLY SH*T. I am training for a marathon. Was I supposed to do all of this stuff?"
Total panic. Total, irrational panic, but kind of like that feeling of showing up to take the SATs on Sunday and realizing it was held on Saturday. Like, OMG, how did I not know this earlier?
My rational brain kicked in eventually, with helpful thoughts like, "Dehydrating yourself for 12 hours is not the way to run a marathon" and "No one can survive on a liquid diet for six weeks, particularly when you need energy to run." Victoria Secret models are a little different than runners (just a tad), and I am very, very thankful I don't have to run in my underwear. Trust me, no one wants to see that. So whatever that researcher meant did not apply to me, and I am not going to give a second thought.
But I will say, having been uber-excited on Tuesday and terrified on Thursday, I'm starting to feel a bit emotionally exhausted. I'm ready for this race to be over. I'm ready to return to the land of normal people, who wear cotton socks to the gym and don't count their grams of fiber due to an overwhelming fear of explosive, unexpected diarrhea.
I'm looking forward to being normal again.
Hope everyone has a good weekend! I'm sure I'll have a lot to say on Monday morning.
The Las Vegas Rock 'n' Roll Marathon 52.5 hours. I still have all of my toenails, and more importantly, my sanity. Wish me luck!!
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