So it’s August 30 (… for about two more hours on the West Coast). One month from today, I’ll be in Berlin, running my first marathon.
OK, so one month from right now, I’ll probably be drinking berliner weisse and/or sleeping the best-deserved sleep of my life and/or sitting in a cold bath willing my legs to stop yelling at me. But, you know. One month!
The Berlin Marathon’s been counting down with daily blog posts, all hilariously translated into English in my Google Reader (“But where does the vast amounts of small carbohydrate and mineral dispenser come anyway?”), since 42 days out from the race — one for each kilometer we’ll be running on Sept. 30. For some reason, that didn’t make the race feel close; 40+ days is still a whole lot of time. But one month is such a clear marker — of time passed, of where I’m going to be so soon.
I haven’t really run since Saturday, but I know I could, and that’s calmed my fears. Yesterday I jogged to my car, and today I went all the way around the block, so at least I’ve got the .2 down. I was going to do a proper test run today, but instead I ended up getting a last-minute massage appointment at a place a friend recommended, and after 60 minutes of elbows and forearms and palms and fingertips digging into my calf, my lovely massage therapist recommended maybe just waiting till Saturday. On the way out, both of my legs felt tighter than they had all week, but after 20 minutes of easy biking at the gym, something seemed to click and suddenly I feel almost normal. I don’t want to get too excited, but … I’m hopeful, for sure. I have no particular plans or goals for my long run this week, other than not being a total idiot, but I still have a date with a lakefront path in Madison, and that’s a huge relief.
The month between here and the race is going to be absurd: three weddings, one bachelorette party, one major work project, one engagement karaoke party, and one house to close on (!)(!!). Oh, and a 22-miler, likely taper rage, and some fall race decisions to make (though having zero dollars post-house-closing might make those decisions easy). And yet, I know this is exactly when I thrive — when I’m so busy I don’t have time to overthink, when I need to just go.
One month. Bring it, Berlin.