The countdown to my first half marathon of the year is now in single digits. Which means I’ve started doing things like checking extended weather reports, going back through my training with a critical eye, and walking a very fine line about obsessing over diet. I’ve searched for driving directions and wondered if I’m setting myself up for failure by driving eight hours on Thursday for the Saturday race. And then I wonder, what if the hotel doesn’t have my reservation? What if I don’t get enough sleep next week? What if I miss out on something important because I’m going solo to this race?
Welcome to taper week. There’s a gremlin who lives inside my head who absolutely adores this “what if” game. He will what-if me to death. He will talk me out of success. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself is that I have the power to talk myself into a whole lot of things.
If I have the power to talk myself into a whole lot of things, what if I talk myself into positive things? What if I “what-iffed” myself into success?
What if the drive was an adventure instead of a burden? What if instead of trying to fight my taper craziness, I let myself have fun with the silliness of it? What if my training put me in the exact place I needed to be on this day? What if race day is not referendum on my value, my strength, my inherent worthiness as a human being but rather a confirmation of all those things, which (actually) exist without the need to be tested or validated?
What if this time, I truly trusted that it was ok to let it be good?
What if the the what ifs were awesome ways to remind myself of the strength and preparation and goodness that I already have?
Suddenly everything can change, for the better, with one well-placed what if.
Take that you stupid gremlin.