I have run the Grandma's Half Marathon several years and it doesn't get any better. I still question why the heck I thought I could handle this mentally, physically, emotionally, intestinal(ly). I try psych myself up, instead I psych myself out by asking myself these questions every year.
Should I eat breakfast or not? What should I eat if I do?
I hope this coffee makes me poop soon.
What if I poop myself during the race? I suppose THAT will be noticeable.
OMG! I don't think I trained enough, maybe I shouldn't do this. Is it too late to back out?
Should I put band-aids on my nipples? Nah....
Did I remember to pin my bib on? Wait, did I pin it to the t-shirt I plan to take off and throw in the ditch?
Wonder who I'll sit with on the bus ride up? Should I talk to them or are they mentally preparing?
(thought while ON the bus) Damn! This is a L O N G way up there!
Wonder what kind of food they'll have at the end of the race and will my stomach handle it?
I hope I get a coach bus, instead of a school bus for the ride up to the start.
OMG, we're still driving, maybe they missed the turn off to the start. Geesh, this is WAY up there!
I wonder what theme that guy on the mini-trampoline by Brighton Beach will be dressed as this year.
I wonder if I can stay in front of the SAG bus? (insert a little prayer here)
Thank God, we're finally at the start, dang, that was a long ride!
Oooh, she's got a cute running skort, wonder where she got it.
Wonder if I can get a picture with Grandma Rosa this year?
Wonder if I should shove some toilet paper in my sport bra in case I have to stop and pee in the woods.
OMG, the gun just went off..."Dear baby Jesus, help me get through the next 13.1 miles!"