Racing Racine

I hate racing.
I know that sounds counter-intuitive or downright crazy (especially for someone who keeps signing up for races), but it's true. Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited to race for the first time this season (Racine 70.3 half Ironman) and I, much to their surprise, keep replying "no" in such a way that one would think that they just asked whether or not I was looking forward to a colonoscopy.
So why do I do it? I'm not sure. 
I enjoy the training, there is no doubt about that, but the race itself leaves me nervous and anxious and nauseous. I just can't seem to get out of my own head on race day (or the day before, or the day before...). While racing drives me near-crazy, I will admit that enjoy the end result. But then again, I also enjoy walking out of the dentist (but I'm not going to go back unnecessarily just to get that feeling).
I know I'll sing a different tune when the race is over (you know, provided it goes well), and I have another medal to my name. But for now I'm just going to pace around my house, hoping that I didn't forget to pack anything, Googling "how do I swim 1.2 miles?", and pining for that bottle of wine in the fridge (which is strictly forbidden until after the race, coach's orders).