As I write this, there is 3 hours 11 hours and 24 minutes until the starting gun. I'm not counting the minutes...much.
Today was the last major run before the Chicago Marathon on Sunday. Coach Pfitz scheduled a 7 mile run with two at marathon pace (8:00). It was a complete failure, in the right direction. You see I'm horrible at gauging my pace when I shift speed to a quicker pace in the middle of a run. So I did a 5m warm-up and hit the lap button on my watch. I ran about 1/3 of mile and had to stop at a busy street. 17 seconds later I resumed my pace. It felt fast but I wasn't breathing that hard. I hit the one mile mark @ 7:25. Ooops. I slowed down and wound up averaging a 7:42 pace. Double oops. Too fast, but I think it shows I'm ready.
I'm fully healed from what someone referred to as "The Wine Botttle Incident". I'm also freaking out about getting sick. Not a rational fear so I continue to wash my hands as if I'm preparing for surgery every time I do another task. The race cannot come quick enough now. I'm in the grips of taper madness. You wait the entire race prep time to get to the easy mileage at the end. Then once it's here, you lose your mind. Coach Jenny Hadfield, on active.com, is quoted "or the time when the mileage decreases and you find yourself with way too much time to think". And I haven't even started to worry about the weather.
In the meantime, I think I'll go twiddle my thumbs and drool all over myself.