Well it's not as serious as all that, but I do have a race on Saturday. The past two times running have not exactly been stellar displays of running prowess. But then again I've never really displayed running prowess. Well there was that one time... The first track race I ever ran in High School was the 800m. I won. Never mind that it was a dual meet and I think the guy from the other team (who was the only other person running) must have pulled a Charlie Brown and ran straight off the track. I was a winner. Running prowess. I told teh wifey that I'm going to finish this crazy North Fork 50 miler this time. Really my motivation is all about the merch. I have this rule that I can't wear a race shirt unless I've actually finished the race once. Since I have a two race DNF streak going here I haven't been able to wear two very nice technical running shirts. This needs to change. Yes I know it's not the climb the mountain, seize the day, or "close the wall up with our English dead." It's a stinking shirt. But I still want it.
So to add to the usual mountain of evidence against the idea of finishing, I've been struggling through a minor shin splint, the usual patellar tendonitis flaring in my left knee, and on a certain mountain "run" over the weekend I had a crash and burn and slammed my right knee on to a bunch of pointy rocks. This pretty much means I am perfectly set to finish this sucker. I pretty much have called my shot. I will finish this stinking race in the allotted time. There ya go. Totally insane arrogance. It's a nice artificial alternative to the usual pessimism you find here. And why not? It worked for Hal...
'I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'
- King Henry V
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