I managed to get a decent night’s sleep last night, thanks to Rozerem. Have you seen the Rozerem ad? The one with the guy sitting at his kitchen table in the middle of the night, chatting with Abe Lincoln and a chess-playing rodent? I think whoever came up with those ads has taken Rozerem, because those are the sorts of dreams you have on it.
Anyway, I’m happy that I got 8+ hours, as apparently it’s the quality of sleep you get two nights before a race that’s most important. Which is good, since I’m sure I’ll have trouble sleeping tonight despite Honest Abe’s attempts to calm me.
Now I’m checking the hour-by-hour weather every five minutes. Runners turn into Fashion Week hysterics in the 24 hours before a race…”What will I wear?! I’ll be too hot in this! Or not warm enough! I’ve never worn this in a race, so can’t take the risk of chafing! What. Will. I. Wear?!!!”
It looks like it’s going to be fairly chilly. So I’m settled on wearing tights and probably a short sleeve tee under a long sleeve tee (both wicking, of course). Footwear will consist of Balega socks and my Brooks Adrenaline 6’s. Perhaps a fashionable Costco garbage bag to keep warm at the start. No hat or gloves.
Jonathan will dutifully be there two hours into the race to cheer me on as I circle the park repeatedly like a semi-rabid greyhound. So I can always treat him as a human clothing rack if I get too hot or cold. He loves that.
Tonight is a dinner of pasta with chicken and French (or is it “Freedom”?) bread. I think I’ll skip all alcohol.
Have a mentioned how incredibly nervous I am?
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Races Like a Girl 