Squeaky bum time

Getting down to it now.

Only four days to go until my public humiliation and suffering.

On the plus side, it'll all soon be over.
  • no more aching;
  • no more having to get motivated to go for a run after a crappy day at work; and
  • no more wearing shorts in public.
On the down side
  • my knee is still being weird so there's the very real risk of doing myself some lasting damage;
  • there is the possibility I may be seen in shorts by millions of people watching television; and
  • potentially dying.
So swings and roundabouts really.

I'm not nervous yet. I expected to be, but it just isn't happening. The fact is, I've known I'll be doing this for a few months.

I've done the time on the road. After my long runs, I'm pretty sure I can make it around one way or another. I've also eaten more pasta in the last week than Pavarotti could do in a year.

I'm sure I should be freaking out more, but I'm not. And even that isn't freaking me out.

The best way I can describe it is like the condemned man, heading to the firing squad.

I've accepted my fate since the judgement was passed all those months ago, now I'm just waiting for the blindfold and the bang.

Just wish my last meal wasn't sodding pasta...

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