One of the most ludicrous weeks I can remember. I've been like a 4 year old child waiting for Christmas all week, in such a constant state of nervous excitement that I'm surprised I haven't wet the bed. I've even been scanning the supermarket shelves for the long discontinued Texan Bar.
The reason for this? A lottery win perhaps, exam results maybe, a date with the Bangles lead singer, an opportunity to beat up Rick Astley? No, a friggin' 800m race tomorrow. I managed to squeeze in to the British Milers Club Grand Prix meeting at Solihull. This falls pretty far down the list of good reasons to get an erection but it's all I've been thinking about all week - this appears to be one of the downfalls of being an anti-social full time runner enjoying his Competition period.
Pre-race adrenaline is typically a good thing - however this has gone beyond the pail and I'm about 5lbs lighter than I was at the start of the week. I weighed in at an all-time adult low of 10st 9.5 lbs today, at nearly 6ft 2" tall. I can only assume the dangerous cocktail of nervous excitement and sad-bastardness is responsible.
Assuming I haven't left my race behind already this looks like a good chance to PB despite the oppressive heat. The BMC races employ pacemakers and organise the races based on ability. So, I find myself in a 9 runner race (plus pacemaker) with just the 7th fastest PB. As the pacemaker is scheduled to go off in 56 seconds it will also mean a fast first lap for the first time this season.
Start lists are as follows and I'm entered in race 'H' which, surprisingly, isn't the slowest race.