The Lion and the Lamb

Today is the first day of March, and I am not sure whether it can be described as Lion or Lamb.  The wind is strong, a pretty steady 25 mph coming in off the ocean - so strong that it is difficult to open the door to the condo when the balcony sliding glass door is open - but at the same time temperatures are in the 70s and the sun keeps appearing, disappearing, appearing again.  Perhaps the lion is trying to lie down peaceably with the lamb on this day of contrasts.

It was difficult to know how to dress this morning as I completed my final three-mile run during this "taper" period.   As in the past before long races, I was lethargic, almost as if I was coming down with something, and I felt all kinds of unusual little niggles and pains (is that right knee that tight again?); it seemed preposterous that I would even contemplate running more than four times this distance, as fast as I can, three days from now.  But a runner learns to trust in his training, and I remembered that this is always the way I feel this final week before a race.  As importantly as building reserves of glycogen may be, even more important is building reserves of confidence:  "to have full trust." 

We spent the evening reading and resting.  The wind was still blowing steadily when we went to bed, but at 2:00 a.m. I awoke to flashes of lightning and distant booms of thunder, way out over the ocean.  Rain sizzled against the window intermittently, like someone throwing fistfuls of sand.  I did not sleep well.