There comes a point in every marathon training where my head kicks in and says, “What are you thinking?” It’s somewhere in the middle, when I have lots of days behind me, and lots of runs in front of me. My head starts barking at me with old noise. The chatter that says, you should have taken this road or you shouldn’t have done that. You’re old, and you’re never going to bq at this rate…blah blah blah…
Except. Not this time. This time, I’m clear about what I have to do, how much I’ve done, and how much more there is to do. I’m incredibly confident. I am imagining a PR in San Luis Obispo. And, it’s not some wish. I am working, and it shows. 15 pounds gone, 330 miles run since January. I am doing the work.
So…on Tuesday, when I was feeling these aches, I should have simply gone to the doctor. Because, I knew. I knew that above the neck, you can run…below the neck, not so much. You can read about running sick here. I knew this. However, my symptoms were up above AND in my chest.
I finally went to the doctor today, when I should have gone on Wednesday. The doctor said I have an upper respiratory infection, and I need 10 days of antibiotics. I am not to run until 48 hours have passed with medicine.
On the one hand, I’m irritated that now I will have lost 40 miles on the training. On the other hand, there’s something about a doctor saying YES you can run, or NO don’t run, that sort of legitimizes the condition. It’s having a medical note that says, “she’s not faking this! I’m a real doctor, and I diagnosed this.”
It’s gorgeous here in NORCAL. So yeah. I’m not thrilled about not running. But. Tuesday. 48 hours from now. I will lace up and get out there. I’ve lost a week, but gained some wisdom. I can’t wait to run, and I’ve not felt this for awhile. I still can nail my goals. I have 3 16 milers left in this cycle, and I will be fine.
I don’t have to live out my history. My imagination is on fire, and my goals are very much in reach.