A race

There’s a race.  I want to do it.

It’s a big race, it’s a long race, it’s a hard race.  It’s one of those “…est in the country” kind of races.  I want to do it.

It breaks all preconceptions of what I feel I am able to do and yet it has got under my skin and so I think am going to do it.*

There are rules to me writing about this race.  I'm not discussing it with anyone.  I've told only certain people that I am thinking about doing this race.  Those are the only people I want to talk about it with.  No one else knows about this race or if they do (because they've read about it here) they don’t need to talk about it with me.  They can ask how fit I am or what I'm doing on Friday, or Saturday, or Wednesday, but not how my preparations for the race are going.

I could start a new blog so that no one knows about the race but then it wouldn’t be Trepid Explorer and me and this blog are so intertwined now there’s no leaving this race out of this blog or leaving this blog out of the race.

I don’t want to fail.  I don’t want to have to tell anyone I’ve failed.  That said, I won’t fail just because I’ve told no one that I’m doing it.  I will fail through pure failure, if I fail.

If I don’t fail… I might just tell everyone that it was a success.

*  One of my friends at work who I respect a lot said that if you think about a race then you have to do it and that is the law.  I am tempted to believe her.