Finally freaking out

Well, it took a while,  but the pre-marathon madness hit in force this morning. After weeks of serenity and confidence, I woke convinced I was coming down with a terrible cold.

To be fair, I did feel sniffly and headachey and I had spent 2 hours in meetings with my sick boss the previous afternoon.

It all added up, and what it added up to was not good: a sick marathon this Sunday. Months of training wasted.

I spent the day shoving industrial quantities of vitamin c into myself and loudly cursing fate.

It was jaykay who solved it with some excellent Facebook-delivered advice (“htfu”) which I have duly followed.

I am now of the belief this is wholly psychosymatic and that everything will be better after a good night’s sleep.

It’s a theory.

Sometimes I hate this marathon business.

BTW, this is the longest post I’ve done on my android phone. Apologies for any spelling problems.

he returns

It’s been a while between posts, quite a while. If you know me you’ll know there’s usually a reason for extended absences like this, and it usually comes from being in a filthy mood, for one reason or another.

I operate on the principle that if I have nothing nice to say, I blog nothing at all.

A few of you guessed with unbelievably accuracy that I may be “laid low”.

So, what happened?

When last I wrote I was running 100km per week and feeling good for a possible PB at Melbourne Marathon in October.

Since then I was struck down with an all-mighty toothache, which didn’t make me feel like running at all. A visit to the dentist didn’t help matters much, just lightened my wallet.

Then I caught a cold, which rapidly developed into a chest infection. As I said to Em last week, if a butterfly in the Amazon rainforest sneezes, 10 days later I end up on antibiotics for a chest infection. It’s as regular as clockwork.

So last week was a write-off as far as running goes, and not much better in terms of work or life in general.

It’s not easy to run with a vice around your chest, shallow breathing and lungs attempting to exit the body via the nearest exit.

Sigh.

I’m just getting better now, and have been able to run for the previous 2 days. That being said I’ve been running very slowly and feeling very asthmatic and short of breath during the run.

It’s hard not to feel downcast about this. What was feeling like a possible PB year now feels like a possible DNS.

lost week

My last post was on Tuesday last week, and my prophetic last words were “I think I’m coming down with something”.

There’s my famous talent for under-statement coming out again.

I was coming down with “something”: the mother, father, aunt and uncle of all man-flu’s.

As it turned out, I was already abuzz with germs, having been infected by a member of my extended family who will remain nameless (they know who they are).

Three days off work, and 4 running days lost into the fluey ether.

Not happy.

I finally ran yesterday afternoon, 15km at a fairly easy pace.

nothing that can’t be helped by a good brisk 10km

I’ve said it before, and I’ll no doubt say it again, there is literally nothing that can’t be fixed by a good brisk 10km run. Or, at least, nothing that can’t be made to go away for a little while.

Take this morning: I was feeling low, feeling tired, my body unable to make up its mind if it was going to submit to a cold that had been hanging around the traps for a few days. I had a headache, a sore throat and blocked nose. I was, in general, a prime candidate for man-flu and an associated day off work.

But, I stuck at it, like a good little solider, caught the early train into work and headed out for a run around the tan.

What do you know? I did the run, which by coincidence ended up to be exactly 10km, and finished in a canter, with a grin on my face a mile wide. What’s more, I feel great now, some 7 hours later.

It’s a miracle, it is. Doctors should prescribe 10km to all their patients. Instead of “take three of these and stay in bed for two days” it would be “put on a pair of running shoes and off to the running track with you”.

A terrific idea, one of my best.

blasted bronchitis

A trip to the local GP this morning confirmed what I already suspected: the little cold from a fortnight ago has developed into bronchitis.

Leaving aside the sleepless nights spent hacking up my lungs, I also have the Gold Coast Marathon to run this Sunday and I had my eyes fixed on a fast-ish time.

Sigh.

I’ll give you a tip: if it turns out this bloody bronchitis means the months of training were wasted, give me a wide berth for a few days. I will not be a happy boy.

Anyway, I told the doc to hit me with his most potent drugs, and I must have looked fairly frazzled. He obliged and I’m now full up to pussy’s bow with various types of antibiotic. Cross your fingers, that will hopefully do the trick.

The question is: is the coughing going to stop enough by Sunday to let me finish the marathon? Am I going to be able to run sub 3 hours? Am I going to be able to do that without having a heart attack?

Question, questions.

Running
On doctor’s orders (no kidding) I took a nice easy 9km run this lunchtime. It didn’t feel too bad at the time, but I was a bit short of breath afterwards.

not a post about Michael Jackson

It’s sad when anyone dies, particularly before their time. Michael Jackson’s death was sad, as was much of his life, as I see it, but it kinda leaves me cold.

I could see he was something of a dancer, and a very talented musician, very young, but when it comes down to it I just don’t like his music. I never have, never will. Even “Billie Jean” which everyone seems to love, just strikes me as a bit tinny.

Anyway, it’s also sad about Farrah Fawcett, Victoria’s third swine-flu victim and all the thousands of people who die every day in the third world.

Grumpy
I’m slightly grumpy today, as you may have guessed. The damn cold I had ages ago is still going, and has now ensconced itself in my lungs. I don’t want to make it worse, so I haven’t run since Monday. Given the marathon is Sunday week, I’m getting concerned.

I know I’m supposed to taper, but this is ridiculous.

I know I shouldn’t make too much of this, but I’m secretly seething. Outside I am my normal debonair self, but inside I’m raving like a foul-mouthed Tasmanian devil.

in the wars

I’ve been a bit in the wars lately, which is why there’s been precious little blogging this week. It really did stop my blogging. No, really.

I have a feeling it’s my body’s perverse way of rebelling against 2 weeks of around 120km worth of running.

The first problem was a really nasty case of chaffing. It affected my nipples, though curiously only the right one. That was only a side affect, compared to the main area of chaffing, which was actually red raw and bleeding. I’ll spare you the details, aside from saying I had a pronouced bow-legged walk for a few days there.

Incidentally, do you remember this really stupid, and offensive, old joke? Q: Why do Gypsy’s have bowed legs? A: Because they have crystal balls.

Silly eh?

Anyway, the second problem that on Monday I managed to pick up a dose of something that wasn’t quite the swine flu.

Then I had a problem with my finger-nail, which got ripped off, and then infected. That wasn’t quite painful enough, so I did it again on another finger.

Then, I managed to burn my thumb on an oven tray while cooking cupcakes. (That’s a first – a cupcake-related injury).

And on Thursday I slammed my index finger in the car door. That finger is a nice shade of blue.

At that point I had 3 fingers and a thumb out of action, two of which were prime typing fingers. So, no blogging.

I think that’s it.

Some of this, I grant you, could be put down to stupidity on my part, but I do think it had something to do with my body being quite literally run down.

Running
No running from Monday to Wednesday, due mainly to the cold/flu but not helped by the chaffing. Last night I ventured out for a speculative 12.5km around the streets near my place. Today I had a more interesting 17.5km starting and finishing at my office. It didn’t feel terribly good at the time, but turned out to be done at a reasonable pace.

giving me the s***s

I suppose I had it coming… I spent much of last week making jokes about swine flu. Thankfully I didn’t get the pig flu itself – although that would have been something to tell the grandkids – but I did get a nasty dose of whatever my little baby girl has.

I awoke on Saturday feeling mighty queasy. MIGHTY queasy and uncomfortable downstairs. I thought it best to pull out of the Sandwon 10km and just do a little 8km run around the streets near my place.

Sunday was worse. I won’t describe in detail, as you might feel like eating at some point today. No running done at all yesterday, other than to the bathroom.

This was all very annoying, and not just for the obvious reasons. I was all set to record a record training month this month. I made it to 400km with the Saturday run, just short of my PB – 403km, and I was set for over 430km taking into account the long run on Sunday.

Sadly, I pulled up short.

Bugger.

I’ve quarantined myself from work today, as I don’t imagine anyone there would appreciate picking up my bug. Instead, I’m working from home.

I am feeling better than yesterday, so I’m considering doing a long run later this afternoon.