I’m so glad that I got the headcold from hell that will not die a week before the Sydney Marathon. Not only do I feel like crap, but there is no discernible improvement on the crap sandwich to lead me to believe that I will be any better by Sunday or even marginally less crap.
I’m so glad that I spent 16 weeks getting up at ass o’clock to run horrifyingly hard intervals. I’m so glad that I went on long runs when I didn’t want to when it was pissing down rain, when it was humid as hell and even when no part of my body wanted to do it.
I’m so glad that I spent 16 weeks pushing my body in tempos and crossfit and running hill sprints while my quads were in agony.
I’m so glad that I completely wasted 16 weeks of time, effort and energy on getting myself ready.
And I’m especially stoked that I won’t get what I worked for.