Maybe I’m just being a little bit self-conscious. Maybe they can sense the fear and hesitation in my eyes. I don’t know. What I do know is that I always feel awkward and weird whenever I buy food at a Filipino food store. I mean, I shouldn’t, right? I know what all of the foods are at the hot table, and I can probably pronounce things correctly, too. In the worst case, I can get by just pointing at stuff if I was really not inclined to converse with anyone. Why do I still feel self-conscious? Well, it seems like often when I talk to the people behind the counters they often don’t know whether to converse with my in Tagalog or English. Hell, if they talk to me in Tagalog, if I don’t know how to answer back in that language I’ll probably at least understand what’s being said such that I can respond in English. There’s no barrier there. One only exists if they’re simply too afraid to talk to me. Do I not look pinoy enough? Am I intimidating? What? I really want to know.
Monthly Archive: September 2010
Dropping routine
For the longest time I’ve been craving a week like this. I really wanted a period of time where I can just drop most of my important day-to-day routines and have a little bit of freedom. Now that I’m have it, I’m feeling slightly lost. Maybe I wouldn’t feel afloat if I had something regular like the running clinic going, but since I’ve completed the marathon I’m even free from that. How odd!
All of this has got me thinking. Instead of looking to outside sources for a sense of purpose, why am I not working to settle on being comfortable with myself without any context? “I am who I am.” Is that statement not enough?
Capybaras: that is all
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3A2s70Z_LTg
That look of contentment after being scratched? That’s how I feel this week away from work.
I am a marathoner
I think part of what was making me doubt myself heavily the other day was the idea that I could be held up as someone that’s inspirational. Post-race, I still can’t claim something like that for myself because it’s not really in my position to do so, know what I mean? All the same, I know that my story is an example of someone so filled with determination to reach an end result. Just three-and-a-half years ago I was hardly able to run straight for 2 minutes. Years ahead, I have completed a marathon, which is physically demanding for just about anyone. Sure, my story isn’t unique. I’m not the only one that’s had to struggle. Also, I’m not blind, or otherwise disabled. In the grand scheme of things, there are people utterly deserving of a pedestal. I’m content staying here on the ground, minding my own business, I guess.
Hit by a train
I feel like I’ve been hit by a train.
I want to write about the race, but in all honesty I need some time to process my thoughts and get some rest. I’ve been in bed since 4 just trying to let my body recover. My legs feel like cement blocks. Oh, but it was all worth it.
So yeah, race report will follow tomorrow. Preview: the race was awesome.
Trembling hands
By the way I’m acting at the moment, one could be forgiven for not even realizing that I’m going to be undertaking something huge tomorrow. I’m acting a little bit cool and calm, like I’ve got everything under control. The act might seem solid, but my trembling hands seem to be giving me away. No, I am entirely nervous. Tomorrow I will be running my first marathon.
How am I feeling? Well, I’m doing a little bit better today than I was a few days ago. On Thursday I felt a little bit paralyzed with fear. Doubts were floating around in my head, making me feel like I’m going to be an utter failure on Sunday. I haven’t been training as hard as recommended according to the training schedule. I haven’t missed any of the key Sunday runs, but during the week I let life get in the way. I suppose it couldn’t be helped, but here I am now. I had a fear that if I don’t do well tomorrow I would be exposed as a fraud. Why should I be so inspirational? I actually ended up airing these fears on the social networks. The amount of support and encouragement I got from other people was entirely heartening. I can do this. Really, I can. It doesn’t matter if my body starts rebelling late into the race. I seem to have the mettle to keep at it right until I get to the finish line. God, I can’t quit. I’d be mortified! I think my saving grace is that I’m quite familiar with the ways that my body likes to rebel. I know the aches and pains that come up late in a run, and I know how to deal with panic. All of that is likely to come up in the back third, so I will work to combat all of that as much as I can.
What are my expectations for tomorrow, anyway? Well, since this will be my first marathon I’m not going to assume anything with certainty. I have a good idea of what my expected time will probably be, but who knows whether the conditions will be sympathetic. Let’s say…that I’m expecting to arrive between 5 and 5.5 hours. It’s a wide range, but I just can’t tell. More importantly, it’s imperative that I stay consistent with my pacing. I can’t afford to go too fast at the beginning to only peter out at the 30 kilometre mark. Training only took us as far as 32 kilometres, so that final ten is going to be bizarro world for me.
God, I just want it all to be done.
Not practicing what I preach
The sleep that takes place two nights before a big race is supposed to be the most important one. That’s because you can be sure that you are probably not going to sleep well the night before the big race.
So….why was I out at the bar late?
DAMN IT.
Self-destructive
Yesterday, in my funk I decided I wanted to do something self-destructive. I was considering drinking that whole bottle of red wine that’s been sitting in my cupboard for a long while. Thing is, that’s a waste of a good bottle for such a non-event. Plus, no matter what anyone says, I’m not a lush. Mmm…I was actually close to getting my head shaved. I wanted to do something mildly drastic. In the end, I decided that wasn’t an option either. I ended up compromising and shaving off the facial hair. God, I look so young now. Not sure if I like it.
Aaaargh.
(At least I’m not into cutting…)
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