I went to bed last night excited for my first ‘long run‘ in the lead up to my goal: half-marathon at the end of February.
So you can imagine my
anger, stress disappointment at waking up with a head cold worse than I’ve had in years. I feel like I’m constantly underwater.
Walking from my bedroom to the bathroom to blow my nose was a marathon task. I was struggling to breathe as soon as my feet swung off the bed. Dizzy, the hallway spun around me as I made the two-step mission to the other doorway. Once in the bathroom, I made the mistake if looking in the mirror…
There was to be no running today.
15 hours on, I still feel like rubbish. Hopefully it’ll pass so I can enjoy some countryside runs in the Wairarapa soon.
I can’t help but feel that my body’s doing this so I have one more excuse not to train. Like I’ve done this to myself, somehow.
Mum thinks it’s because my body’s finally finding time to relax, since I know I have the next three weeks off work. As much as I want to believe her, I don’t know if I can.
Training is not going well. I’m rarely out on the road in my trainers. And when I am out, I can barely run ten minutes without my lungs burning to all hell. My personal best a few weeks back was a fluke. Complete and utter fluke. I haven’t been able to get anywhere like it since.
I’m not saying I’m giving up, necessarily. Just that there is still a long way to go.