To Panic or Not to Panic

OK, trying not to panic here.  I can do this.  I can totally do this.  It was more than a year ago when I decided I wanted to do the Tahoe Rim Trail Ultra.  I had researched ultramarathons to pick out one that suited my needs.  I wanted something scenic.  Challenging.  Memorable.  I'm pretty sure I'm about to get all that I wanted and more. 

I waited patiently last year as July came and went.  Like the type-A athlete that I am, I checked the website daily, watching for registration to open.  Ironman registration opens 12 hours after the last finisher crosses the finish line.  Surely, ultramarathons are the same, right?  Nope.  Finally someone clued me in and I joined the Tahoe Rim Trail Ultra fan page on FB where registration updates showed January 1 as opening day. 

I had already waited forever to sign up for this target event... now I had to wait 6 more months!  At this point I had not run further than 26.2 miles.  I'm not sure why I felt compelled to try this 50 miler.  At 8000 ft of elevation.  In the mountains.  But I was and so when January 1 rolled around I got on the computer, filled out the application form and clicked send.  It was official.

I trained on trails through the winter and in February I ran my first 50k.  I experienced a whole new level of pain afterwards when I came to a stop and all the blood pooled in my legs turning them into cement blocks.  Cement blocks that felt like they were being stabbed and simultaneously ripped apart by a vicious and hungry bear.  I had a very faint glimpse of how bad (good?) 50 miles could feel.  The day after the 50k as I boarded my flight to Hawaii my body had that satisfying ache, a feeling of accomplishment. 

The months have dragged on and sped by, all at the same time.  And now it is a mere 86 hours until the start of my first 50 mile run.  I feel prepared and yet so undertrained.  I am excited to start but anxiously freaking out.  I have packed and re-packed and re-re-packed my bags.  I have brought every possible outfit I might feel like running in.  I have 3 pairs of trail shoes even though I can only wear one pair.  I have more nutrition than a small tribe in Africa.  I have packed clothes for heat, rain, snow, and all manner of weather conditions save a hurricane.  My sister and I, who normally talk on the phone 2-3 times per week, are now chatting 2-3 times per day as we work out details for crew, safety runners, course maps, mandatory meetings, drop bags, and on and on and on. 

It is here.  The Tahoe Rim Trail Ultra is staring me in the face.  As I stare back, I imagine what Saturday will be like.  The highs and lows emotionally.  The ups and downs along the curve of the mountains.  The lake and the forest.  The trails.  I try to block out the unknowns.  Will my stomach go sour?  Will I get blisters?  What if I twist my ankle?  I focus on seeing myself making relentless forward progress.  One step at a time.  Over the course of the day.  I will see this dream through to fruition.  I close my eyes.  And just breathe.  Taking in the scent of pine and crisp air fresh with snow. 

I am strong.  I am prepared.  I am ready.