How time flies…

…when you’re attempting to expel your lungs from your body with your own diaphragm.

Yes, after the mileage glut that was January, comes the mileage famine of February.  My long run last Saturday (incorporating Wimbledon parkrun in all its glorious muddiness) and a wonderful afternoon at the post-Janathon pizzafest were swiftly followed by a dose of my husband’s manflu.

As someone who gets ill very rarely, I’m always somewhat miffed when I succumb, but with a spa day with my mother booked for Tuesday and less than two weeks until my first ultra, this was more galling than usual.

On Sunday, I moped around in bed until 3 in the afternoon, at which point I dragged my sorry carcass to the sofa for a change of scenery, watched a little TV while whimpering pitifully and then crawled back into bed to sleep for 12 hours.

On Monday, my fever had passed, but I decided discretion was the better part of valour and lazed around all day.  No point in jeopardising the spa day and disappointing my mum after all.

Tuesday was glorious and featured much pampering.  So much so, that I thought myself fit and well, and smugly declared to my husband (still suffering and still feverish) that I was cured.

On Wednesday I was fine, and went into work as planned, even attempting a short run when I got home.  Alas, pride cometh before a fall, and if I slept on Wednesday night, I blinked and missed it.  8 hours of tossing and turning does not a happy sloth make, and on Thursday I was back to coughing and sneezing and wheezing like a goodun.

So I didn’t run on Friday either, despite mounting panic at the lost miles.

But Saturday is parkrun day, and so this morning saw me leaping out of bed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for another muddy run on the common.  My training plan said “go all out”.  I did, for the first two miles, but mile three was very much a case of not walking rather than running.  But it was a run, and it was followed by brunch with friends and an afternoon of playing computer games with my husband, so I’m declaring the day a success.

And leaving the panic about my impending ultra until tomorrow.

 

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About abradypus

A Bradypus or Sloth am I, I live a life of ease, contented not to do or die but idle as I please; ... [Michael Flanders and Donald Swann]
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7 Responses to How time flies…

  1. Shaz says:

    I have every confidence that u will breeze through the ultra, trouble is u r the one who needs the confidence!

  2. Dave Johnson says:

    You either need to grow some (you know what) or just put it down to tapering.;-) See you Sunday, or possibly parkrunday, should you choose to run at Bushy (and if I make it)

  3. Shaman says:

    You have trained more than adequately, the last couple of weeks before a race don’t usually make a big difference. You’ll be fine 🙂

  4. fortnightflo says:

    I like that guy that said put it down to tapering – smart man.

  5. plustenner says:

    was great to see you yesterday x

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