I've had to hold back, the last few weeks, obeying so many training plans' insistence on the importance of Tapering before a race. Because of a sore knee several weeks ago, I cut back earlier than I'd intended; however, I've been reassured that my body's ability to cover the distance hasn't faded away, and the IMS treatments have released the crankiest tensions in the mobility chain. I loosened up enough to run a 20k 2 weeks ago, 12 this weekend, and I've been easily managing one or two 9k's during the week. Still, so much less training than in the preceding months that it's tough not to feel antsy. . .
The maple, I suspect, will be much more sanguine than myself with the rain that might fall on the 5000 of us running those 42.2 kilometres, though. For a while, the forecast was for a week of sunshine, culminating in 20-degree (Celsius) temperatures. I went out and bought new running shorts, made sure to take them out for a run, and I fretted a bit about how warm I might get by the time I finished, sometime past 1:00 p.m (if all goes well).
Instead, the forecast is now for 13 degrees with a strong likelihood of rain. I tried my shorts out at that temperature this morning, with no rain, and decided I'll be warm enough that way, but I'll probably wear a long-sleeved technical shirt, with a short-sleeve layer underneath. I have an old long-sleeve that I won't mind tossing -- the discarded clothing along the route will be gathered up, cleaned, and donated to charity, as is common practice in these events.
I've found the last several weeks interesting, psychologically, in a number of ways, and if/when I complete the marathon, I might write my way through my thoughts about that process. For now, I'm feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation, but generally just trying to nurture the sense of readiness and excitement.
I'll do one more (short) run later in the week, and I'm hoping to fit in a yoga class, but otherwise, my training this week consists of eating carbs and sleeping well. . . . And paying attention to Nature's lessons in the garden. . .