To C or Not To C

…that is the question.

The “c” word has been bedeviling me lately. Not lately. It’s been awhile. So…longly?

I don’t mean the “c” word in the traditional way you freaks think I mean ”c” word. Not the “c” word that makes men and women cringe upon hearing it. Women cringe with deep, heartfelt disgust. Men, of course, cringe in an outward socially acceptable manner to hide their inner snicker.

No, I’m talking about the other “c” word That Shall Not Be Named. This one feeds on normally healthy leg muscles and turns them into twisted, knotted strands of rotini pasta. If Wheaties is the breakfast of champions, this is the brunch of a code red marathoner.

This is the question for Sunday’s race. To “c” would, in short, suck. To not “c” would put my dreams of a triumphant stallion ride to Applebee’s within reach. To not “c” AND obliterate my PR would leave me considering self-immolation at the finish line because, really, what’s left to do? And how cool would that be?

Mrs. Nitmos is a glass half empty type and has vowed that we are leaving the gas can at home. Kill joy.

During my 17 mile warm-up for my 15k this Sunday, I’ll be constantly evaluating my hydration levels. The weather looks nice. It should be between 50-60 degrees and partly cloudy. This will be the coolest marathon I’ve run since May 2007. I’m more of a gas can half full type so, optimism!

If you think this post was slid in at the last minute just to garner another round of “Good lucks” prior to the race from everyone who already said that in a previous post, you might be right. Pretty sly wasn’t it? I might have another entry timed to release an hour after the marathon starts that says something like, “I’m running the race now and I just passed mile marker 8. I stopped to say Hi to everyone. Wish me luck.”, and then you’d feel obligated to put yet another “Good luck” in the comments.

Or this post was merely a way for me to pretend that I read Shakespeare and know lots of quotes from his voluminous works but chose the most obvious one for your benefit, not mine. Since no one actually reads Shakespeare these days, I’ve found it’s pretty easy to google search a couple key quotes and character names and drop them into every day conversation so people really think I’m well read. I’m a bit like Iago that way. After all, I did just read Don Quixote over the course of 7 months, wind-aided.

I will not apologize for this shameless Shakespearean name dropping or comment pandering. I am Falstaffian.

The training went well…the weather conditions are near perfect. I’m looking forward to, at the very least, a fun race on Sunday. Anyone got a light?

Otherwise, it’ll be me making that cringe face because of the “c” word.

Happy trails.
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As always, special thanks and gratitude to the lovely and patient Mrs. Nitmos, frequent reader but infrequent commentator, and the kids for tolerating another marathon training season. You are the pelvic bone on which these legs twirl (no? not a good metaphor?)