I haven't felt like myself lately.
I sort of feel like my body's been hijacked by a sick and perpetual hangover feeling. This too shall pass, I know. But it really has been pretty rotten, and the worst part about it is that I don't feel like ME. Because I'm not able to eat the things I normally do, and I'm not able to run.
It's been kind of rough.
I come home from work, after the kids in the last few classes ask, "Are you OK, Mrs. Z?" "What's wrong?" "You look green." I know, I know, I answer. It's OK. I know what it is. Just let me sit down....
They have got to know something's up. I NEVER sit down when I teach.
So anyway, last night I was so frustrated that I was so sick I couldn't even make it to my tri club meeting. I mean, the very thought of driving 40 minutes to the meeting and then having to keep a smile on for everyone and NOT want to hurl made me want to hurl. So I passed.
I never miss triathlon meetings. I love hanging out with my tri friends.
This morning was the St. Malachi 5 mile race. It's a rite of spring here...a tradition downtown that I've done for the past 5 years. I love it--it kicks off my season and is always so fun, and a chance to test my winter base work.
Not this year.
I looked out the window this morning in bed, and saw the sun shining, and thought what a great day it would be to run. But I missed my race, and I felt sad.
So I decided, that no matter WHAT--no matter how bad it was--I was going to run today.
I put on my shorts--shorts! yay!--and a long-sleeve Second Sole Running Club technical tee on. And my Ironman finisher's hat. Because it always makes me feel better.
And I ran. For 29 glorious minutes. I ran slowly and surely and felt the sun on my face, and tried not to think about the nausea and it sort of disappeared.
It was amazing.
For 29 minutes, I felt like myself again. I remembered the runner girl--she's still in me, but she's on the sidelines this year. She's a little sad right now, but I'm sure she'll figure out that it will all be worth it in the end. Right now she wonders why she missed her race this morning, and why she can't hit the track for some hard 800s.
I know she'll get it eventually.
But she's in there--she's a part of me, and she's not going anywhere. And neither is the road.
Or the races.
So I need to remember that. Plenty of time, plenty of time.
So today, it was all about my 29 minute run at a snail's pace. I felt so good...I felt like me.
And it feels good to be reminded.