Dear Sirs (or Madaams),
Are you trying to get my attention? Are you trying to convince me that running the New York City Marathon next week may not be such a great idea for me? Or are you sending me through the gauntlet to test my will and fortitude before you give me your blessings for a good race on Sunday? Hmmm…how will I know?
To say I’ve had a tough taper week would be an understatement. First there was the hospital workload, which has been more intense and exhausting than I’ve ever remembered. Then there was the sudden cold temperatures which has thwarted my efforts from even getting a run in during the mornings (I am deathly afraid of running in cold temperatures!). Oh yeah, there is the issue of pain at the bottom of my right foot, which although isn’t excruciating anymore, is still quite mysterious in its onset and disappearance during my runs this week. And as if that weren’t enough to worry me, I banged my left kneecap hard against some metal theaters seats when I went to the movies last night. Now it’s bruised, a bit swollen, and somewhat noticeable to those around me. Yikes! I thought about going outside for a short purgatory run to flush out the negativity and retest the engine, but of course, it’s raining and wet outside, so it’s a no go for that. All I’m left with is writing you this letter to help me decide whether this marathon gig really was meant to be for me.
Can you please help me figure it all out? Can you send me an ephemeral sign of some sort or maybe one of your running angel messengers because I’m totally confused. Was it all not just yesterday when you woke me up and got me out the door before the sun did and convinced me to run my 5 mile tempo run at a blistering min/mi even as I was doubting my abilities to run in the cold? I felt so reinvigorated by that run when I found out afterwards that it was the fastest Central Park loop I’d ever run in training. And did you not guide my hand in picking the perfect marathon shoes (blazer blue Asics GT-2140) at the running store afterwards? Both the salesman and my friend who I met on the street afterwards said it looked so perfect for me. I had thought it was a sign from you that everything was starting to come together. Now, after injure myself further and watching the raindrops pitter patter against the same pavement that I'm supposed to be running on, I'm not so sure anymore.
So if you really do want me not to run, I only ask that you deliver your sentence as swiftly as possible. There’s plenty of pre-marathon festivities planned for this week and I’d hate to waste my time on those if I’m not lining up at the start in
P.S. If I don’t hear from anyone who claims to be a running god, or in lieu of one, is it safe to assume that it’s okay for me to run? Cool. Just checking.