Here’s my running number for my second marathon – Bournemouth on this coming Sunday. All quite close now.
I’m desperate to prove London wasn’t a fluke (see previous post). It feels as though I have so much to prove. Everyone has said what a fantastic time I ran at London. What if I can’t replicate that? Will that mean I’m a fraud? A fake? A one-race oddity? It probably doesn’t really matter, but it does, somehow, to me. I hope I don’t scupper myself trying too hard. That’s probably the bigger risk.
Dare I hope to imagine I might run in a time approximating my number? Orange is a good colour. In fact, orange and purple again (my race colours for London were orange and purple). Is this a sign? Am I expressing idiotic superstitiousness? Don’t answer that.
I’m finding all this tapering far too easy to handle. I really don’t mind not going out for a long run. In fact, my last long(ish) run at the weekend ended up being shorter, even, than it should have been. I hadn’t even managed to memorise my route accurately. How lackadaisical is that? I turned back sooner than I intended, cutting a mile (more than 10%) off my run. Not great, but I’m largely unperturbed, though I feel I ought to be more bothered. Actually I do realise there’s nothing I can do now to improve my form, so that particular mile will make no difference whatsoever.
I think I might be becoming a bit anal though. I’m away from home for the days immediately preceding the race … I’m taking my breakfasts with me. That’s just not how I behave normally. It’s a bit weird to feel compelled to take breakfasts with me. My rational justification is that I don’t eat wheat, and European breakfasts are typically wheat-based or not much else. In fact, typically in Europe, I probably just have yoghurt and maybe some cheese for breakfast. In the light of this, taking my lovely carb-rich brekkie now strikes me as hugely logical and absolutely the rational, not weird, thing to be doing. Feel free to agree.
Wish me luck! And speed, please, in the traditional interpretation of the word, obviously.