Well the first real shivers of panic have struck just now. It’s not really panic as such; chemically-speaking, it’s a mild adrenaline rush. The half-ironman is on the 27th of September, so not far to go now. I just purchased the one-day licence you need to do a triathlon in Ireland, and printed off a couple of copies (to be sure, to be sure).
I was just giving myself a small and imaginary pat on the back for being so organised (god forbid you should try to really pat your back and strain a muscle!) when I had sudden urge to run into the bedroom and start pulling out all the gear.
Where is the Glide? When can I get the bike wheels trued up? The wetsuit is hanging in the wardrobe where I left it, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Do I have enough socks? Will I even wear socks?
It was a momentary wave and it has passed.
Often, when you are facing into an event, folks will ask you: ‘are you nervous?’
You think about it for a brief moment and shake your head.
‘I haven’t really thought about it’ is my stock response. Which is in fact true.
But then, a freak wave, like the one that just hit me there, will roll in out of blue. It’s going to be like that for the next week and a half or so. May as well get used to it!