Writer’s block. It’s a funny thing, isn’t it?

I’m revising my first dissertation chapter and I’m just stuck – stuck – on this one point. I’m pretty sure I know what I want to say, but my brain can’t make my fingers make sense of it on the keyboard. And yet, I have at the ready far too many words I’d be dying to tell anyone who would listen about what I’m doing Sunday morning.

In a moment of cookie- and good-fellowship- and 25%-off-induced euphoria last night [protip: DON’T go to a running store that is having a mega-sale during the last week of your taper, because you will decide that you need even more rewards for the hell you’ve put yourself through in the last 4.5 months – this is one of several reasons I’ve studiously avoided going out for beers this week, because I know how that ends], I bought a very warm pair of Sugoi tights for the snowy/windy runs I think I might encounter this winter in central Virginia, and an Asics half-zip long-sleeve top – that is screamingly orange and purple to the point of embarrassment, if I cared about that sort of thing; it also has thumb holes, which I didn’t think I cared about until I put it on and realized that they’re pretty nifty – for the 5am runs that have now become habit even though it’s pitch-black and hey, um, pretty chilly at that time of day. Where I’m going with this is that I didn’t try them on before I bought them, like you should, because this was a special sale and the dressing rooms weren’t being used- it was pretty much a free-for-all, grab-what-you-can-and-hope-it-fits sort of thing. And when I got home, I ripped the tags off and then tried them on.

They fit just fine, and it’s not like I couldn’t have returned them with the receipt for store credit, but… But.

The cursor in that Word document sits, blinking, mocking me, while this one just flies along.

This is my brain on marathon tapering.

I should know better, really, than to have saved the hardest work of my week for today, since my thoughts have now turned pretty fully to the upcoming weekend. And yet, while I remember reading obsessively about everything-Richmond I could last year, I’m sort of… not meh, but more Zen about Marine Corps this year. I’m sure prior marathon experience plays a large role in that; I’m also sure that higher-mileage training and better quality training play a role in that, too. I have a metric fuckton more confidence heading into this marathon, which either means I’m going to kill it completely, or have an epic collapse somewhere around mile 22.

I don’t have the jitters I thought I might, right now, though I’m sure that will change between now and Sunday at 5am when my alarm goes off. (when I’ll already have been awake since 3 or 4…) I just kind of want the time to pass quickly enough, so that I can still savor the fun things I have planned for the weekend (I’m going to watch horses jump over tall things tomorrow night after I gorge myself on the world’s most gigantic plate of spaghetti and meatballs which I have been craving all damn week; then I plan to meet up with a dear friend from high school on Saturday before possibly going to a party hosted by an old college friend; then I plan to watch “Chariots of Fire” as I fall asleep that night), but also so that the downtime is minimized because I – and, I’m sure, about 29,999 other people – just want to get to that start line and kick ass already.

Bwaaaaaaa. I’ve hit a wall here, so I’m going to go back to that damned blinking cursor over there and push my damn way through the wall over there. I’m sure there’s a metaphor in there somewhere… Nah. 🙂

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