If it seems I've been posting more lately, I have. And if it seems that his may be due to some creeping anxiety over today's race, it is. When this blog began, I claimed to strive for content that informed as much as entertained. I did not simply want to turn this piece of the internet in to my own personal dumping ground for daily happenings.
I've obviously failed in that initial goal, but have perhaps succeeded despite that. I've realized the therapeutic nature of writing for it's own sake, regardless of perceived valued of content. Furthermore, I've realized that content created for that reason is often much more compelling than something cobbled together with a specific aim in mind. (Objectively, such content tends to get more hits as well.)
All of this is to say, recently, I've been dumping quite a bit here. Sorry. But I'm nervous, anxious, excited, and just plain ready. Ready to stand at some powdered line in the grass, look up at a slate sky and chase the horizon.
Since putting in the 40-ish mile training/volunteer/etc. run several weeks ago, this race has been nearly my whole focus. Because of that, my coffee bar managing has been something of a godsend. Without something else over which to obsess, I may have started running laps around Lawrence until I collapsed. Thankfully, I've not lost my ability to obsess over coffee, and the making of it. These last few weeks have seen the best latte art I've ever produced, as well as the pleasant acquisition of a new bean (Costa Rican Tarrazu).
Coffee has also proved an invaluable training tool. Without it, morning runs would be impossible, the prospect of a ten-hour-day keeping me in bed. The more-frequent afternoon runs would be no easier, as post-shift legs are even lazier than pre-shift. The night runs would probably have still happened, if only because they were fueled by the kind of nervous energy that even caffeine can't produce.
Which brings me, finally, to the ironic use of coffee this morning: As an agent of relaxation. Caffeine aside, morning coffee is part of a comfortable routine, and a pleasant reminder that this is a morning like any other. It triggers the release of pleasure hormones, and less scientifically, just feels good. It's a drinkable security blanket, a warm cup of everythingisfine.
And everything is fine. We'll see if I still feel that way in 24 hours.