But I’m afraid. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I think I’m actually more nervous about the logistics involved in the run than the actual running bit itself. Running ten kilometres in a row is a breeze compared to the nightmare of arriving on time, finding the starting line, finding your bib, tying the bib on, tying the bib on properly, being warm, being hydrated, staying warm, staying hydrated, finding your friends, finding your starting place, making sure your stuff is in a safe place, finding your stuff after the race, finding your friends after the race, AND looking cool the entire time. It’s exhausting. For a chronic worrier of seemingly small and insignificant details, I would be willingly letting a giant ball of anxiety be thrown at my face. Which I will have to catch. With my arms. And hold, for a while. I’m having flashbacks to field trip day when I was in Kindergarten. I hate the chaos of not knowing what I’m doing or where I’m supposed to be. I was always afraid someone was going to forget me. I’m pretty small. Maybe that’s why I’m so loud.
The girl who just can't play it cool 