As I type this, I’m sitting in a hotel room just outside San Diego. It’s Friday, the day before the race. It’s a cool 55 degrees outside and overcast – perfect kind of weather for the race if this should hold for the next two days.
As we flew in last night, I got a bird’s eye view of the mountain range I’ll be running through this weekend. It was odd to look out the little window at the brown mountains, see little foot trails littered across and around their surface and know I’d be out on those trails in 36 hours.
I’m still worried about blisters, but I think I have a plan for that. I’m also worried about handling the mountains, but that’ll be what it’ll be. There’s no other preparation I can do for that now, except in my mind.
My sister is here – my sister the stage manager – to be my crew, and she’s got her red notebook of plans and information all set up already. (I’m in good hands.)
We have a few supplies to buy this morning, but we’ve already found the Wal-Mart. After that, we’ll chill out a little and wait for the pre-race meeting later this afternoon. It’s 7:30 am at this very moment. At 7:00 am tomorrow morning the trek begins.
We’re gonna do this one. We’re gonna get this one.