This morning, I started out ready for the 20, nervous, but ready. I got on the road at 5 am, just like I'd planned and was fine, but then my stomach was doing this gurgle-gurgle thing in the first mile. At the end of the second mile it was doing this flip-flop thing that signals breakfast is on its way back up. I stopped, leaned over and waited for the barf, but it didn't come. It's been awhile since barfing and running have gone hand in hand, so this was curious.
I started to trot again but my stomach was seriously icky, and then, as if God agreed, the heavens opened up and it started to rain. At first it was a drizzle, then it was a downpour. I turned around and headed home feeling both naseous and defeated.
Total miles: 4.
I feel like poop about it. All kinds of doubt and uncertainty are clogging my brain right now: Can I do this marathon? Am I capable? What does it mean to miss the 20? I've heard many declare that they were unable to run their 20, but were fine; however, I feel like I've missed so many runs in the course of my training, will I be fine?
Good lord, this week has really raked me over the emotional and mental coals.