Something's on its way

I'm itchy.

Not the dry-skin kind of itchy.  Or the ew-gross-rash kind of itchy.  Or even the first-grader-gave-me-lice kind of itchy.

It's an internal itch.  Almost like when you get an itch up inside your nose, right in your nasal canal.  An itch that's impossible to scratch no matter how you try to get at it.  Except this itch is in my bones.  It's an itchiness that extends deep down into the marrow of my bones.  Every single one of them.

It would be really easy to attribute all of this itchiness to the taper.  The taper is a time in training where there exists a constant internal battle to keep the pent-up energy in its cage.  For weeks, you've been telling your body to push harder, push faster, and give it your all.  And then, all of a sudden, it's "Wait, slow down, take it easy."  This is not an easy transition.

I'm now 2 and a half weeks into taper and my body, despite how much you think it might be used to this by now, is fighting against me.  Last week's mileage total capped off at 28 miles.  A vast difference from the 50 miles the previous week.  This week, it's already Wednesday, and I've only run about 8 miles so far.  My legs are itching to run far and run fast.  But the smart side of my mind keeps saying "cut it short" and "go slow."  So in reality, I've been coming out with average-distanced, a-little-too-fast-but-not-too-bad runs.

And then, to top that off, the race is just a mere 10 days away.  Per Ironman/Coach Jason's advice, this has been boldly splayed across my mirror for 4 days now:

Lowest goal time I'll admit to actually thinking
I can achieve.

I've never done the "visualize your time" thing before.  Most likely because I've never had such a solid time goal for any of my other marathons.  I'm still undecided as to how I feel about it.  It surprises me every morning.  It's the last thing I see before I go to bed.  And I can't tell if it's helping to put me in the marathon goal-oriented frame of mind, imprinting this time into my retinas, or if it's simply just freaking me out.

Because I'm kind of starting to freak out.  And that could be a cause of this itchiness I'm feeling.

Then there's also the fact that I have exactly 3.5 school days left.  Next Tuesday at 11:10 AM, I will put my little ones that I've learned to love so much onto the bus for the last time.  I also have mixed feelings about this.  I've had an amazing class of kids this year, and I wish them all the best in the world, just as I did for my little ones last year (click that link and read it, it's one I'm quite proud of).  I feel as thought it's going to be harder than usual to say goodbye to this group.  BUT, I simply cannot wait for summer to start.  I'm done for the year.  Final report cards are done.  The kids are all but completely spent and have lost any pretense of trying to follow all the rules.  We are all just counting down the days until we get to go out and enjoy all the beauty that Seattle summers have to give (well, I am...they're probably looking forward to playing video games all day).

And speaking of Seattle summers, we've been getting so many little tastes of the beautiful weather to come that it makes that 3.5 day count-down all the more excruciating.

Took this while traffic was at a dead stop on the viaduct after work the
other day.  Doesn't really do it justice.

All of that combined: the beautiful sunshine, the nearing of the last day of school, the rapidly approaching race day, and the internal frustration of tapering.  All of that could easily explain this itchy feeling I've got.

But somewhere in the depths of my mind, in those places you only get to on long, lonely commutes, or during times of too much thought, I feel like this itchiness is something altogether different.  Like the way Mary Poppins always knew that when she felt the altering of the winds, it was time for a change.  Change is on its way, whether I'm prepared for it or not.  And my bones are just itching for it.

In the past, when I've itched for change in this way, it has typically worked out well for me.  An itch for change is what got me interested in teaching.  It's what brought me Lucy.  It's what got me running.  It's how I ended up here in Seattle.  It's how I got myself wrapped up in Team in Training.  It's how I started this blog.  This internal itchiness has worked out pretty well for me in the past.

So while I find the wait time to be quite annoying and frustrating (like a clawing under your skin, the anticipation is entirely consuming), what I hope deep down is that I'm paying my dues for something really good that's coming my way.

At least that's what I'll keep telling myself.