PFT #3 Jitters

Yea, my 3rd official PFT is tomorrow.

1st : 194

2nd : 255

3rd : ___

I’ll fill this in tomorrow afternoon … who am I kidding, I’m too lazy.  I’ll just write a different entry.

These test(e)s bother me *so* much.  It reminds me of having to audtion for orchestras in high school – so much performance anxiety.   Running is my ultra weak point and it’s so humiliating that I am running at the bare minimum required for entry into the Corps.  On a good day.  My very best run time is one second above the minimum.

I’ve been demoralized about my 25:24 two weeks ago and my 24:24 last friday.  It makes me wonder how I can possibly beat my PR when I am running times like that.

Cassie is probably wondering why I am not calling her right now and that is because I have a student.  And there is a cat sleeping on my lap.

But I’ve been trying to motivate myself and visualize the race.  I’ve only run the trail 2 times so far so it’s hard to know the benchmarks and whatnot yet.  I have nothing but my body to tell me how hard I am running, that and a half-race split, which isn’t too useful haha as it either tells me I am going to do well or I have already failed.  I think this time I am really going to focus on finishing fast and digging a last quartermile sprint out of nowhere.  At least I won’t have to fend off white geese this time…those fuckers are aggressive but they ain’t got shit on me.

I’m probably not going to sleep well, being so anxious like this, so I’ll have to try to get to sleep ASAP as I’ll probably be up thinking about running 3 milers for 2 hours.

God, this is horrible.  It’s such a stupid thing to wig out about too.   Fucking running 10 seconds faster equates to one point.  Hahaha, 10 seconds to me is such a huge change.  I find it hilarious that 10 seconds off a 3 mile equates to a single crunch.  If you think about it, the amount of energy that goes into increasing your speed to get that 10 seconds is infinitely harder than a single crunch rep.

Oh well.  Here’s what I have to say to myself : "STFU, bitch. Kill kill kill!"

Hahaha, I was shouting "KILL" at the top of my lungs while punching bags in kung fu class.  My beefy burly partner looked scared.