Nothing Good Can Come of This

Damn you, Insomnia!!!

So here I am, it's midnight here, and although I was about to go to bed about two hours ago, I find myself doing a little Ironman Arizona web research.

Someone seriously should come and confiscate my computer.

Why?

Because I stumbled upon a site written by a guy who has done like 29 Ironman races.

Psychoooo... (read: I am in jealous awe)

But with all that experience comes a crap load of wisdom, especially about the IM AZ course. And of course, I devoured every word he said.

The result?

Extreme paranoia, tears shed, some re-grouping, and then return to extreme paranoia.

The upshot is that he basically is like, "Yo newbies, chill the eff out and you'll be fine." He literally lays out every step of the process, from pre-race traveling and packing to crossing the finish line, and everything in between. So while I was really looking for some insight into the course, I got a whole lot more.

He has some really good advice on how to line up for the swim in the yucky brown water, how to shake your head from the water-bobbing once in transition, what the bike course holds and how to manage your engery and liquids, and most importantly, what and how to pack nutrition (by far my weakest area, just ask my distended gut from yesterday's brick). He talked about how to pack the bike up and tape things to your bars, and keep a film tube of salt tablets and ibuprophen.

I know to most of you who have already done this race, this stuff might sound like, "Yeah no kidding." But seriously, I didn't know some of this stuff.

And while this was all good and fine on the Educating Myself front, the other side of this is "How the eff am I going to remember this all? For crying out loud, I can barely remember to brush my hair once a week, and now I gotta remember Co2 cartridges can't go on an airplane?!?!"

Hence, the paranoia-slash-tears.

I talked about this in a recent post - the fear, the anxiety - but it was mostly about my physical ability. Right now, I feel fine with that (but there's always tomorrow and my insecurities don't EVER take vacations). I am coming to terms with the fact that, yeah, it's gonna hurt, and hurt bad, like no other I have ever exprienced. But for someone who has to check eight times if the coffee pot is off before she leaves the house but still manages to forget the hair straightener is on for, like, two days - keeping all this stuff straight is making my head spin.

This is a whole different kind of anxiety.

What the heck have I gotten myself into?

I can just see myself now, standing in the bedroom, 430 am race morning, pounding coffee while stuffing a banana in my mouth and panicking because I can't find my Mocha GUs, or my socks have decided to elope with my sunglasses (though I wouldn't blame them - my feet can get stinky, being in those running shoes all the time), the sunscreen exploded or the pins are missing from my bib number.

Okay, I need to put myself in a corner and take a time-out. Breathe, Megan, breathe.

Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo.

Suddenly, it's like a lamaze class over in my apartment.

Funny, that makes me wonder if having a baby might have just been easier.

Maybe my mother was right....