4.6 miles. Ringling Bridge. 35:09. 7:38 pace. Crowded and Windy.
What is it about race week that makes me feel like screaming "EVERYTHING'S MESSED UP!"? Nothing felt right on this run. The week before every race I have run, this hyper analysis kicks in. "What is that weird feeling in my footcalvesshinskneesthighsbackneck? OH NO! This can't happen! Not THIS week! Why are all of these people staring at me running? Oh yeah, like YOU have never run while crying! Go back to your shanties!"
I might be over-dramatizing this, but you get the idea.