3 days to go...

It's almost here and i don't want to run it. That's the paradox of life. I trained for almost 5 months, thought about quitting a hundred times, suffered through gastric pains and unpleasantness, heat strokes, close calls on the road, muscle spasms, and bleeding nipples. I even shaved my chest hair cause it felt marathonman-like. And now this feeling of distance from the end goal? What the f....

On the other hand it's been a life experience. The runs took me places I've never been and made me see things I had no idea existed -- both physical and metaphysical. I experienced the runners high. I pushed myself to the verge, tittering between the state of consciousness and subconsciousness. It's Milan Kundera's lightness of being -- a dream in the real.

The last weak has also been a very easy one in terms of distance. I've cut down to the point where I don't know what's even the point of doing these short runs. But my web coach seems to think I should keep strapping on my running shoes and spinning the legs. God, I can't stand the sight of that guy's face anymore. I need a new coach, or he should remove his picture from his page.

Last Thursday -- it was my birthday -- and my last long run. I took a buddy of mine along and we did a half marathon. it was easy and it felt awesome, and it helps to have someone to talk to.

So here it comes, do or die. Am I ready? I'll know on Sunday.