Today officially marks 39 weeks. Tick tock. Tick tock. I'm amazed at how much easier the waiting has become now that I have something else to think and worry about. Maybe I should have signed up for an Ironman months ago.
The funny thing is I keep joking how much the end of pregnancy is just like a race - the taper leaves you feeling antsy and slightly off. Not exactly injured or sick, but certainly that lingering suspicion that your body is somehow not ready for the miles ahead, and that each tiny ache is really a bigger problem hidden away to discover once you are deep into the race.
Unlike a traditional race though, you are constantly stumbling around looking for the start line, waiting on someone to announce the race date and gun time. All the other age group waves have been sent except for my own. So I continue to try to stay hydrated, keep my muscles warm and diligently maintain my nutrition plan. Out of superstition, I haven't packed my bag. What a weird way to start a race.
The countdown is on. Tick tock. Tick tock.
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