Running Sick

Last weekend, exactly one week before my first ever 10k, I woke up in the wee hours of the morning with a stomach bug.  By midmorning I was achy, weak, shaking with the chills, and unable to eat anything.  I took it easy, drank water and Gatorade, and nibbled as much of a granola bar as I dared.  And I slept.  And rested.  And slept some more.  Oh- and I was SO THANKFUL that I have such amazing kids.  After lunch my daughter (who's 6) said, "Mommy, are we going to take naps now?  I want to take a nap."  I eyed her warily and said, "you WANT to take a nap??"  "Yes," she replied. "I know YOU want to take a nap and you'll need it very quiet, so I want to take a nap so you can sleep."  Um, WHAT?!  How awesome is she?!  So nap we did.  By the next day I was feeling okay, no symptoms but I was still very weak and a little nauseous.  Monday morning I went back to the gym.

I kept it easy, skipping my fitball class and doing a quick 3 mile walk.  It was pretty dang boring.  Even though I was tired and weak, going that slow was a mental challenge after running for so long.

Knowing I only had a few days until my big race, Tuesday I ran 4.75 miles.  And I.  Dragged.  Ass.  It was so exhausting and boring and all I wanted to do was give up.  But I just couldn't!!  I was so excited to run this race, so proud of myself for signing up by myself, and frankly I had paid $25 and I wasn't going to throw that money away.

Wednesday I met with my personal trainer, who I've decided to keep seeing for the time being (I'll get to that some other time).  We did a kettlebell workout out and then I got back on the treadmill and did a tortuous 2 miles.  Still weak.  Still exhausted.  Soooo nervous.

Thursday my gym buddy's husband joined us at the gym and had us do some Crossfit-type stuff.  It was a really nice break from the usual, but I still had to get on that freaking treadmill and get some miles in and by this point, knowing I was going to take Friday off to give my legs a rest, I was feeling a little scared.

And then came Friday.  I woke up that morning with a headache, runny nose and sore throat.  I was torn between "whatamigoingtodoomgthiscan'tbehappeningwhywhywhywhywhy?!?!" and a bleak feeling of knowing I should just give up.  Part of me wanted to slap myself and say "suck it up!" and the other part of me was planning on drowning my sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry's.  Friday sucked.

But then Saturday morning I woke up and I felt okay!  I mean, I still had a runny nose and my throat was a little raspy, but I absolutely could NOT justify not running.  I could do this.  I got dressed and filled my fuel belts (yes, BELTS.  Two.  I like to be prepared.  One had 4 water bottles, one had my cell phone, hair ties and gels.  I felt like an idiot, but I tend to get REALLY thirsty on runs and better safe than sorry!).  Before I knew it I was standing in a crowd of people, all by myself, scared and freezing cold and nervous but still really, really excited.  The gun went off and we all... walked about a block before there was enough room to run.  Okay, no problem. 

I quickly realized that breathing was going to be a major issue.  I could barely breathe anyway since my airways were already swollen, but the cold air seemed to make it downright painful.  I walked a few times that first mile, just trying to calm my heart and catch my breath and I still managed an 11 minute mile (which for me is pretty good).  While I was faster than those around me, I had to take more breaks to breath and I quickly fell behind.  I knew I wouldn't be first, I knew I would be near the end, but I was really starting to get scared about coming in DEAD LAST!  Around mile 3 I noticed that I kept passing and being passed by this same girl, so I nodded to her and said "I'm just going to stick with you!" She smiled and said "we can hold hands across the finish line!"  We would run, walk, run together for the rest of the race and just having her there, this complete stranger, made so much of a difference.  I no longer felt like I wasn't good enough to be doing this race (as I was near the back of the pack).  We encouraged each other along the way, groaned at the hills, waved at the traffic cops and suddenly the race was fun again.  Finally we made it to the finish line and crossed together- NOT last, by the way (okay, it was pretty close, but WE FINISHED!).

I'm really glad I did the race.  I wish it had been under different circumstances, but honestly I'm just really proud.  I finished at 1h17, which is only 2 minutes slower than my usual 10k time on the treadmill and my goal time.  Pretty good for being sick!  I will say, I have done a few 5Ks and never even come close to being last- and that was walking a good portion, pushing a stroller and carrying a baby!  But apparently 10Ks are a tad more competitive.  Now I know.  Plus, I have a really easy PR to beat for NEXT TIME! 

So Remember When I Said "Push It!"....?

I should clarify.  As much as I'm all about pushing yourself, sometimes you need to take a step back, assess how you're doing and maybe back off.  This is almost always the case when you get sick.

It seems like I've been sick a lot this season, and every time I feel so GUILTY for taking a day (or two or FOUR!) off.  I started getting a runny nose Sunday and woke up with a sore throat Monday, but I decided to go ahead and go to the gym anyway for two reasons.  One, I didn't really feel THAT bad and two, if I started feeling worse, that meant even more time I'd have to take off.  Once I got up and started moving around I felt a little better and by the time I got to the gym I felt 98%.  Okay, maybe 95%.  But I'm really glad I went.  The class was a challenge (think 8 billion lunges with no breaks, me near tears, and my instructor laughing maniacally) and like they say, if it doesn't challenge you, it doesn't change you.

So today I woke up feeling pretty gross, but I was unusually NOT exhausted.  You know in movies when people wake up and they're like "hooray, a new day!"  No?  Me either.  But today wasn't that bad.  I mean, I didn't jump up and start skipping around my room helping the birds and squirrels make my bed, but I managed to get up and dressed without cursing the day.  I stopped, thought about how sick I was REALLY feeling (and not just that "yup, I'm sick enough, no gym!" gut reaction) and realized that while I should probably take it easy, I really wasn't that sick. 

So I went to the gym.  I worked out my upper body (since my lower body got beat to hell yesterday), then decided to do a medium walk on the treadmill with an incline.  So every 5 minutes I'd add .5 to the incline, finally reaching 4, and then brought it back down.  It was tough, but I wasn't gasping for breath and pouring sweat like I usually am.  Plus, when I got off my butt HUUUUURT!  Wow!  But in a good way!  I made sure to spray down everything I used so I wouldn't spread my grossness, so don't yell at me.  I burned 525 calories with an hour of walking, so I took it easy but still got a good workout in.

All in all, here are the points I'm trying to make:

If you're feeling sick or sore or injured, take a step back and ask yourself if it's a GENUINE reason not to work out, or just an excuse.

If you're not feeling 100% but you aren't bedridden, it's okay to work out.  Take it slow, reduce the weights, listen to your body.

If you are really sick or injured or even just exhausted, IT'S OKAY TO TAKE A BREAK!  REALLY!  One day or even a couple days will not send you back to the starting line.  It may take a couple of days (or longer, depending on how sick or injured you are) to get back to where you were, but the more you stick with it, the faster your recovery will be.  Pushing yourself when your body is telling you NO will only make things worse.

A Week for Awesome

I've been having kind of a rough week.  My middle kid is having problems at school and it's really affecting me.  "Asperger's" and "sensory disorder" have been thrown around quite a bit.  And I admit it, a not-so-small part of me just wants to put my fingers in my ears and say "NANANANANA!" as loud as I can to drown out any bad stuff.  But you can't do that when you're a mom, so onward!  Sometimes when things get rough you need to say "screw this!  Let's get awesome!"

If you read my blog, you know that on Tuesday I ran EIGHT FREAKIN' MILES and set a new personal record.  Well friends, I did it again.  Today I not only ran 7 mph on the treadmill (a few weeks ago I literally could not get my legs to move that fast), but ran 7.3 mph... and then 7.5 mph!  It was only for a minute at a time since I was doing sprints, but I was really excited!  And the cool thing about running super fast is that your normal speed feels too slow when you go back to it, which means you WANT to run faster.  This meant that I beat my best 5k time by 27 seconds.  I actually ran 3.2 miles, so I know I did quite a bit better than that, but math and I aren't the best of friends and I'm way to lazy to figure out what my time was minus a tenth of a mile.  But I'll be happy with my 27 second improvement. 

I have to say, it felt really good to go in there, kick some butt and feel good about something.  You always hear stuff like "exercise makes you happy and gives you energy!" and you're sitting there thinking "really?  It just makes me sweaty, irritable and exhausted!"  But after a few months of working out... I have changed my views.  Well, sort of- I'm still sweaty and exhausted, but I feel great and the exhaustion is often followed by bursts of energy throughout the day every time I think about how awesome I did at the gym that day.  But I will admit that at the beginning, it was hard.  I was tired all the time.  I took naps.  Like a baby.  Or an old person.  But it gets better, I promise!  You just have to stick it out and remember that you're tired from all the AWESOME you were throwing out today.  So go.  Throw out some awesome.