And So It Begins.

After snoozing 30 minutes past my 6:00 a.m. wake-up call, I set out for a couple of easy laps around the Reservoir.

I returned home to coffee, His Lordship icing his knee, and a crazed cat (typical).

As I logged in my Daily Mile entry, a familiar bittersweet feeling washed over me, as I realized that was my last training run of the season.

Tomorrow, my friends and I embark on our journey overseas to Ireland to conquer 26.2 (or 13.1, or, if you’re a looney toon, 39.3) green miles. I’ve sort of packed—half of my suitcase contains most of my running wardrobe, as I still have no idea what to wear. Will it be cold? Is it going to rain? Will I contract the plague? All of this, combined with my inability to stay clear of cupcakes and sugared things, have muddled into a nice hot cup of taper hell.

In an effort to keep me somewhat sane, my comrade and running partner has calmly told me to “keep my composure.”

Keep. My. Composure.

Also, remember to wear clothes on the run.
Also, remember to wear clothes on the run.

And stay away from chocolate and Rice Krispies treats. And lay off booze. And do not catch germs. And be weary of jet lag.

See y’all in Ireland.

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