My body has been sending me signals to slow down. I heard them and, in my mind, was complying with its request.
After falling ill, I took several days off completely, severely cut the distance back when I did head out of foot, and even exchanged some cross training for run workouts. This Sunday, when my left gastroc began whimpering during a hill run already challenged with signs that my respiratory infection was determined to camp out in my body for as long as I’d let it, I cut my 14 mile run down to a short 9 miles. And I guess that would have been good had I left good enough alone. But I had to slip on my Vibrams for an easy run the following day. This was after I’d sent a message to my MD asking for some antibiotics.
All was well, with only one stop to gasp, cough, and spit, but I decided to add on ½ mile more. I headed down a pot-holey street where I encountered a cat that held my stare a little too long. Seconds after passing safely, I found myself on the pavement. The resulting wounds were ugly but minor compared to the fall of 2008. No stitches were required, just antibiotic ointment, and a little rest – which is hard to do when the weight of a single blanket leaves you whimpering.
You know how I hate to be sedentary. I found myself trying to figure out if it would be possible to least attend my yoga class. Hand wounds: No downward dog. Knee wound: Nothing on the knees. Large wound to right shin… [sigh] NO Yoga Missy! NO Running! Just REST!
Need I mention that it’s less than 12 weeks to the Boston Marathon! Oh yeah. I’m trying to remain calm. If I focus on other things like: When will I book my flight, Who will watch the dog, Can I afford to bring YaYa, …and that sort of thing, maybe I can defer the real question that needs to be asked. That being: When are you gonna get your arse in gear and get trained up?
Did I mention that Boston is less than 12 weeks away?