Taper week might just kill me.
The training I could handle. Meeting my early-riser friends for runs at 5:30 in the morning in the dark of winter was just fine with me. Running for two or three hours on a Saturday and spending the rest of the packed in ice and napping was nirvana compared to this.
Because right now I'm basically doing nothing.
I'm used to having two workouts a day for about 10 hours or so of training a week.
This week, I'm down to three hours.
Today was my longest workout -- an hour swim. I was so jazzed to be doing something that when I got in the pool I was a bit too excited and had to backstroke for a bit to calm myself down.
So I'm a bit antsy right now and wishing I could spin on my bike for longer than 30 easy minutes.
And I'm hungry. All the time.
Friends and family ask me if I'm getting excited for Sunday.
The answer varies. Sometimes, I feel like saying, "I'm ready. Bring it." Other times I feel like throwing up and, to quote Loreli from an episode of the GIlmore Girls, say, "I've changed my mind. I want to be a ballerina."
But I understand the reasons behind tapering which range from physical to nutritional to psychological. I'm getting rest. I'm hydrating. I'm adding a few extra carbs to my diet.
My friend Herm, a veteran of several marathons who hit his goal of 2:57 up in Mississauga recently, said that if I feel fat and slow during taper week, I'm doing everything right.
Check and check.
If I survive this week, I'm sure I'll be just fine come Sunday morning.