Time to Freak Out

Go Away World!

This is me trying to suffocate myself or something

So the triathlon is on Sunday and I am trying really hard not to think about it, frankly.

But at 3am, when I usually either 1) lie awake regretting that dumb thing I said four years ago or 2) sit at my laptop typing my next blog post, it is hard to not let my mind wander straight into the arms of Triathlon Remorse.

It’s like the hot darkness of the living room breeds fear.  I listen to the possum in the roof having its nightly rave (because apparently if possums get their hands on rat poison it’s like the equivalent of ecstasy for humans or something) and my stupid brain starts THINKING.  Of all the things for a brain to do!

It doesn’t stop until I reassure myself that hopefully I will crash my car into a flaming wreck on the way to the race and everything will be ok.  And finally sleep takes hold.

So what am I so worried about?

  1. Have I trained enough
  2. Am I fit enough
  3. Knee pain
  4. Hip pain
  5. Back pain (that’s a new one, just arrived yesterday)
  6. Cramps
  7. Stitch
  8. Flat tyres
  9. Swimming cap popping off my head
  10. Goggles popping off my head
  11. Panic attack in the water
  12. Shark attack
  13. Falling off the bike
  14. Being late
  15. Crying
  16. Vomiting
  17. Forgetting my bike
  18. Forgetting my shoes
  19. Forgetting my helmet
  20. Not setting my alarm
  21. Car breaking down
  22. Needing the toilet half way around
  23. Going the wrong way
  24. Triathlon suit malfunctions (rips/zip failure/see through)
  25. Triathlon suit is too small since eating too many pavolvas

I’ll stop there because the list is actually endless, and quickly gets ridiculous.  To the point where I spent at least 10 minutes last night wondering if I should cut and file my nails as short as possible in case one of the course marshals inspects my hands and thinks my nails are too long and that I have purposefully grown them to try and scratch people in the swim, thus hindering their progress whilst advancing mine.

379. Being disqualified before the start for having 2mm long nails.


The sad fact is simply that I am your average psychotic wreck who bit off more than she could chew and is now slowly choking on it.  On Sunday I will attempt to give myself the Heimlich Manoeuvre and we will learn my fate.

In the meantime I continue to train zombie-like (and I am GETTING WORSE) and I’d appreciate it if everyone could just go along with my charade that Sunday is really not happening.

7 thoughts on “Time to Freak Out

  1. Methinks you do invest too much
    In dreams of how to fail
    But Saturday will come and pass
    To tell another tale.

    (from my Christmas cracker)

    • I was at the same Christmas Dinner as you and my stupid cracker only had a joke in it! Something along the lines of ‘what did the owner of the Chinese restaurant do when his customers complained the lighting was too bright? (he decided to dim sum)

  2. Pingback: Final Ramblings | She Can Try

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