In the past twenty-four hours, here are the messages I have received.
'You're put in the distance, the marathon won't be a problem'
'You're healing well, I don't think you'll have any problem with the marathon'
'If you're still having trouble next week, perhaps you should think about running the half instead of the full'
'You don't have to run 20 miles before the marathon - you'll be fine'
'There is still a month before the race, that's tons of time to heal'
'Don't push it - if you can't do it, you can't do it. There will be other races'
'See you at the start line - just fix your calf - hurry!'
Last week I clung to the positive messages and ignored the negative ones.
Last weekend, I fell prey to the negative ones and began to doubt my chances of running Niagara.
This week, I'm listening to everyone and dismissing them all. Who the hell knows if I'm going to make it to the start line?
Who knows if I'm going to make it the the finish line?
Two weeks ago I was pretty damn sure of myself and my abilities. I had just finished a fabulous 30k that knocked 24 minutes off my Around the Bay time. I felt strong and fit and unbeatable. I would have bet money on my crossing the finish line in under five hours.
Now, I wouldn't bet 5$ either way. Because no one can know what the next day is going to hold. Never mind the next week. Or the next four.
This past week has been a huge lesson. In patience. In humility. In learning how to adjust my plans to incorporate today's reality.
Which may change again tomorrow.
I may run Niagara in under 5 hours.
I may run Niagara and hobble across the finish line.
I may not even get to the start line.
Worrying about it won't change the outcome.
I have some stretching and icing to do.