Monday, June 27, 2011


I’m trying not to freak out about the Heavy Half this weekend.  Trying really hard. But.

I don’t feel ready.

I don’t feel prepared.  And I feel like there’s nothing I can do between now and then to catch up.

I can feel the panic crawling up my throat. I want to jump on the treadmill, crank the incline up and do 15 miles right now. But I know if I do that know it’ll just hurt my performance on Saturday.  That’s an exercise in panic. No that’s exercise in panic.

I’ve done 14,000 feet.  I’ve done 14 miles.  I just haven’t done 15 miles from 10K to 13K feet. I haven’t done more than 6 miles on trail—3 up and 3 back.

I am a control freak. Imma control fruh-eek. And it’s really hard for me to let go and let this play however it’s going to lay. I can make sure my music is ready. My gear is ready. My fuel is ready. I can hydrate. I can sleep. That’s all I got.

I was telling Mr. Bump today that I feel like this was a bigger deal even than my marathon.  He said, “Lana, don’t you remember? You’re a badass!”  I love my husband.

Then we went over my plans for the race:

  • Plan A:  Go as fast as I can on the ascent, haul ass on the descent, trying to keep my feet under me and not trip.
  • Plan B:  Panic!
  • Plan C: This is Mr. Bump’s plan. Plan Chill. the Fuck. Out. (Ok, I added the bad words.)

He suggests going from Plan A to Plan C, skipping over plan B entirely.

Generally, my plan when I’m freaked about something is to cover it with a mental black tarp, and forget about it for as long as I possibly can. This is coupled with bouts of ripping off that tarp, hopping up and down and tearing my hair out, until I can’t take it any more and the tarp goes back on. Sometimes, though, I leave the tarp on for too long and because I’ve spent so much time ignoring that black tarp that I’ve left myself very little time do get ready for whatever is under there.  I think I’ve made it to the point where I just have to pull the tarp off, and start putting everything together.

Do I wish I was faster? Yes. Do I wish I was better on hills? You betcha.  Can I do anything other than psych myself up or psych myself out? Nope.  But I can choose to psych myself up rather than out, can’t I? Well, can’t I?


Hell to the yes!

Any words of encouragement for me? Please?

I gotta go to bed. Rest I can do something about.  Peace out.


Miss Kim said...

It's like Hitchhiker's said: Don't panic.

You are a bad ass and you will totally rock the Heavy Half. If the control freak in you was in charge, you'd have taken over the race committee to re-route the course. Tell your control freak self to give it up to your endurance runner-self.

If you'd like, I'll ship you a baby to wear on your back for halfway up the ascent, and then the rest of the course will feel a lot easier.

Mrs.Bump said...

I know that baby. He'll be kicking me in the kidneys the whole time and think it's hilarious! But thank you.