Pre-race Jitters and Philosophizing

[I wrote the following post a couple days before the race, but due to lack of internet service in my Leadville rental hovel, I was unable to post it until I got back to civilization]

The race is in two days.  I am ready for the final leg of my one-year journey from zero to one hundred miles.  I'm optimistic -- after all, I've done everything that is required to become a serious Colorado ultra-runner:

• I've put in the miles, including the hills, but more importantly
• I've stopped shaving and
• I've started a blog.

These things practically guarantee success, it seems.

But I am a little more anxious and nervous than I expected.  I think it's the good kind of nervousness, but over the last few days, it's starting to feel like it's bubbled up a little beyond that point.  Having Matt and Shannon up here in Leadville with me helped on Thursday night.  They are motivated and ready to go, and that fuels me.  Then when Molly and Denise arrived on Friday, with laminated checklists (Molly) and irrepressible enthusiasm (both of them), I felt like my nervousness had stabilized at an appropriate level.  I'm grateful for my crew because they are both light-hearted and fun while at the same time laser-focused on our goal (28 hours).  I hope they get as much out of the weekend as I do.

My nervousness centers around my concern for my feet and heels.  Both heels have been slightly tender for months, and even though the reduced training during my taper has improved their condition, I know they are still not 100%.  After my 50-mile run a few weeks ago, both feet hurt quite a bit, and I can only assume that that pain won't go away when I add another 50 miles to that total.

I'm not nervous about the pain itself.  I am confident that I can compartmentalize that and continue moving forward.  I'm more nervous that the increasing pain may signify an actual debilitating injury that physically prevents me from moving forward.  The only thing I can do about this possibility is to stick to my race plan, which forces me to "baby" my feet as long as possible (at least 50 miles if I can) by running conservatively and gently.  I will not pound any downhills during the first 50, and I'll be careful not to overextend my achilles during the uphills until I am fully warmed up.

I guess, if I'm being candid, I'm also a bit anxious about the unknowns that lie ahead.  For example, I have no idea how my body will react to:  the full distance itself, the sleep deprivation, the weird diet  for so long a time(50+ GU's, boiled potatoes, bacon, pita/hummus, BLT's, sports drinks, etc.), possible extreme weather, and so on...  But I keep telling myself that I've trained for all these variables as much as you can (short of actually running a 100-mile race in the mountains), so I'm as prepared as I can expect to be.

Finally, I am very excited to be here completing the final step in the journey I started exactly one year ago.  Regardless of what happens this weekend, I am glad that I took on the personal challenge and stepped so far outside my comfort zone.  The risk of failure is real -- every year about half the folks who start this race don't finish it, and that's not counting the twenty percent or so who sign up but don't show up at the starting line.  Now, there's no shame in not finishing (unless I quit), but there is something noble about stepping out on this limb and taking that risk.

I am 100% sure I won't quit, so I'll just have to trust that my training, my plan and my crew will take care of any of those "unknowns" that try to get in my way.