One Month At A Time

Forty Days

I hadn’t really paid much attention to the time –how much longer until the race.

On the one hand, it seems like I’m always talking about the Spartan Race, how it’s in August, how I’m training and how I’m nervous about taking it on.

On the other hand, seven months have gone by since I started this.

This morning, it just felt more real. I checked the date, counted the days and here I am 40 days out.

I’m not ready and I’m a little frightened.

To be sure, I think I’m in the best shape I’ve been since maybe ever. I can run several miles, do pull ups and climb a rope. Thanks to CrossFit WV, I can probably do all of these things in the same sitting.

It’s too bad Spartan doesn’t have a swimsuit or evening gown competition. I wouldn’t win that either, but at least it wouldn’t hurt.

But the Beast is 13 miles, in the middle of the day, and I’m not even close to being ready for that.

Forty days might not be enough time to get ready, but I’m trying. I have my long distance running program. I have my four days or so a week at CrossFit and I’m doing a little weight lifting and some hiking.

I could add in some swimming, I think. I could do some burpees in the morning or pushups. I have a bucket and a big bag of rocks I could carry up and down the hill behind my house.

That shouldn’t be much worse than when I push a mower.

Artistic rendition of what mowing my yard is like, except after it rains. Then replace the ball with a trapezoid.

I am watching what I eat. I am getting some sleep.

I would feel better if the running were farther along, but the last two Saturday long runs have been frustrating. To get used to the heat of August’s race, I’ve run at the heat of the day –well, that’s a lie. I’ve run at noon because I’m putter around the house half the morning before I put my running shoes on.

Still, it’s been recommended to try that, but the heat drains me. I can get the first three miles fine, but the second three becomes a grind and I can do no more.

In a perfect world, I would be able to convince the newspaper to hire people to stand out by the side of the road with cups of water or Gatorade every mile or two, but I don’t think that’s in the budget.

So, Saturday, I’m going to try again, park my car in a metered space, somewhere near the middle of my run, and put some water in the front seat.

I can grab a drink and head back out, I hope. Maybe I can keep going and avoid heatstroke.

Here’s hoping.

Forty days to go.