The hardest race of my life, the Bear 100, is only four days away. I've got this taper thing down like a champ. I am:
1) Pounding the carbs in the form of an enormous Costco pumpkin pie.
2) Infusing my body with good mojo in the form of ample Bruce Springsteen music.
3) Eating mostly healthy to cleanse my body from the Katy Perry toxins that have inadvertently entered my ears while listening to the radio on my mp3 player during training runs.
4) Keeping my legs happy by going on short, easy, and very beautiful runs:
5) I got my drop bags packed. I think this is one of the things I hate most about racing. Figuring out drop bags is like fortune telling. I hate trying to guess what I might need during a race. At mile 55 is it going to be cold enough to need a coat? At mile 68 am I going to need an extra baggie of Tailwind Nutrition? At mile 83 am I going to come across a bear and need a clean pair of shorts? I always solve the dilemma by packing everything I might POSSIBLY need and during the race I actually end up using about 10% of the stuff I pack.
I haven't felt this nervous about a race for a long time because, at least on paper, the course looks like it is steep up or steep down the entire time. There is a total of 22,518 feet of climbing in this beast. If this elevation profile doesn't trigger your gag reflex nothing will.
Even though I'm nervous and intimidated, I'm hopeful that my training over the last year has prepared me to tackle The Bear. I have no doubt that it will be an epic and amazing adventure and I am determined to find my way to that finish line.