After consuming about 1.5 kilos of yoghurt every day for the past few weeks, I thought that taking in a less ridiculous quantity of this heavy foodstuff everyday would lead to feeling better.
So today it was 500 grams.
Tomorrow it will be 200.
Then nothing on Thursday or Friday.
As you can see, I'm losing my mind. Without training, there is an emotional need to exert some sort of agency upon the quality of the performance at Glasshouse. Granted, I should be more focused on sleep, but it's the litte things that count, right?
Additionally, there has been a ridiculous amount of anxiety floating about as to actually getting to the starting line. I don't feel afraid of what will come after that, but the thought of not being able to start on the day is unbearable. Every minor twinge is treated with the utmost scrutiny. Every little pain has been cause for concern.
It may be the mind's attempt not to rationally process the fact that it will have to propel the body for 161.7km on Saturday morning (provided that I do line up). The fact that it will endure a hitherto unexperienced level and type of pain and discomfort in the closing stages.
What must be remembered is that, ultimately, it must be finished. Don't care how long it takes, but as long as we're there on the start line, it will be finished (notwithstanding freak accidents, etc...).
Also, for a bit of perspective, in the past hour, tens of people have died from starvation or curable illnesses. It's just a race.