So much for a long run...

Well, guys, after my week of fun with family and busting through 75 miles--my body has decided it doesn't want to work anymore. 

Yesterday I was feeling like poo (not quite shit, yet) when I woke up.  Thursday it was 90 degrees outside--awesome, right? With it being 60s/70s at night now I pop open the windows for some fresh air.  Yeah, this bitch dipped down to 50-something degrees by the time I was getting ready for work.

Sore throat, running nose, sneezing. 

Trying to convince myself it was just allergies, I sprayed my nostrils up with Flonase, downed a Singulair (allergy med) and hopped in the car.

As the day wore on, I still felt blah--but I knew I was only planning on two miles when I got home, so I just kept telling myself to suck it up.

Did the two miles (in record time, no less!) in the crazy cold air (I'm a puss when it comes to cold weather).  Came home took a nice hot bath and just started going about planning for my long run tomorrow.  Sneezing away, I put all my crap together on my dresser--Clif bar by the bed with it's coinciding alarm at 5:30 ready. 

By 9 that night, the poo had turned into shit--just as I was feeling.  My throat, my nose, my body just felt off and all I wanted to do was sleep.  I pretty much passed out as soon as I laid down.  Though, I kept waking up to wet my whistle, since the throat soreness pain was waking me up.

*5:30 ALARM* "Oh, for fucks' sake."

Still feeling like a pile of crap, I was determined to get some Clif bar down--convinced it would help.  I ate about half--that hellish half that scraped my throat the whole way down.

Now, generally (the ONE time I've done this so far) I set the alarm 1 1/2 to 2 hours before my long run to get some snackage down the hatch.  So--7-7:30 would have been a great time to get up and go, right.

Yeah, 10 o'fucking clock.  Even then I was glued to the bed by drool, trying to breathe and keep warm under the covers.  The next two hours after this, I just kept dozing off. 

"Oh, yeah, I'm so gonna go...ZZzzzzz..."

Around 12 I finally got my ass up and told myself to wash my face, pop my contacts in and just go.  My husband shook his head (I didn't see it, but I'm convinced he did) and told me to take a chill pill and rest the sickness off.

"NEVAH! I've already taken my two rest days this week!"

So, off I went.  I was FREEZING at first (47 degrees, gtfo.) and about a half mile in felt ridiculously hot.  My idea then was to head up the track, take off my jacket and run easily around that.  Sounded nice, thought I could pull off the long miles if I just eased the route up. 

Nay.

Assholes locked up the track.  So, I ran back to the main road, and followed a usual route.  By mile 2, my goose was, as they say, cooked.  I was chilly and overheated at the same time, I couldn't stabilize my breathing, and I just ached.  I felt like a loser, but I had to head back and lie down.

And that's what happened. 3.3 miles today. THAT'S IT, FOLKS.  I feel like I totally failed--and yes, I know I'm sick, but still.  This week still went alright though, considering all the stuff I'd been doing since last Saturday I still managed to work in 17 miles--which is only 5ish off my usual weeks, lately.  Plus, the whole "Hal Higdon Half-Marathon" training thing says I should have only done a 5k instead of the long run this week...so, uh, right on--I kicked ass then?

Yeah, no, still feel a little chump-tastic. :(

So, that's that on the running aspect of things.  Goal for the rest of today and tomorrow?  Nyquil coma until I feel better.

Speaking of which, I had to go get Nyquil--and at the same time figured I'd do my civic duty and vote.  Excuse the sick face.  Trev in the background looking for the pharmacy aisle, hehe.



 

 Right on.  Also, besides voting for the leader of the free world--I bought soup and popsicles.  Kickass.

And that's what's going down right now.   Send me some good vibes so I can get my ass in gear again!



Go Fork Yourselves,

Krissy