Last Sunday, after Saturday's 10 mile run, I noticed that I felt a little achy. By bedtime, I was running a low grade fever, that kept up throughout Monday and Tuesday. It was accompanied by a sore throat, head and chest congestion and fatigue. I felt terrible all week. Because of this, I did not do any mid-week runs last week.
By the time Saturday rolled around I was feeling better. Not great but better, and the last thing I wanted to do was miss my Saturday run too. I had 12 miles to do. So, when my alarm went off at 6:15 a.m. I climbed out of bed, into my running shoes and headed out the door.
I started off the run at my usual 12 mph pace (I know it’s still slow!), but here’s the thing, -- I couldn’t keep up, my chest was throbbing. I dropped down to a slower pace group (yes, there are slower groups). That was at about mile 3.5. The slower pace was better, -- I am not entirely sure how slow I was going, but it was slow, and I made it to about mile 9, and at that point I knew I was in trouble. I couldn’t catch my brea th – and to make matters worse I could feel a blister forming. So, I told the group I was running with that I didn’t think I would be able to finish 12. The two girls were supportive, we took a short brea k at just under 10 miles and decided to just work on short one minute interval runs. That worked for about another mile, - and then I was just done. I couldn’t run another mile. But, I had come eleven miles – it seemed kind of silly to just go home when there was only one more mile to go. Instead of running it, I walked it. I got in twelve miles on my legs even if I didn’t run them all.
That afternoon when I got home, my whole body was sore. A whole different kind of sore than I had experienced after any of my other runs. I showered and put on sweat pants (which is what I do after every run; Justin may burn my sweat pants when this is all over) and we decided to walk to lunch about a half mile down hill from where we live. I was moving super slowly. We ate, (I was ravenously hungry), and then started back up the hill. At some point, I actually started limping. I thought about kicking my two year old out of the stroller and making Justin push me instead. But, I finally made it home. Later that afternoon, I made cupcakes and watched a couple of episodes of Dr. Who to help myself recover (that sonic screwdriver fixes everything!) By evening, I was able to help Oliver color Easter eggs. By Sunday, I was chasing him around the yard, and by yesterday, I was back to running my usual neighborhood route. I was a little slower than before I got sick but I got it done.
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