Running: I was Sick. When to Say “No”

I had some sort of flu a few days ago. I was about two days behind Sir LAA in the sickness train. He got it Friday / Saturdayish, and it just kept on rolling through town until Sunday I got a smidge of it.

A little sneeze, some sore throat scratchiness, and then…well. Full on fever, chills and yuck. Monday I went to work, hacked my way through, Tuesday, better. much better. Some ugly stomach feelings but relatively okay. Feeling pretty durn nice. So now an entire week of run club had gone by.

Wednesday. Roaring to go. Dressed. Ready for the lovely weather (finally not frigid!) Get there, warm up (pretty okay, icky stomach reared it’s head, but I’m gonna do this.)

Started the run. 6 800’s (or 12 laps.) Okay. Off I go. 1, 2 – walk it off. Pretty ncie. 3, 4 – shut the front door. Dizzy. What. Where are the clouds. Whizzing by even though I’m plodding along walking. Sweating. (I don’t sweat). Ouch my head. my heart. my head. where did my keys go.

Yeah, nope. not yet.

and learning to take a break and get better was THE lesson for the day. So today, I was considering another go at the 6 800’s. But for now, going home and resting an extra day “on purpose” to let my body get back together.

I put together my run music for the weekend. I’m quite excited that it’ll be me and the road and 5 miles. But for now, I’m on rest, on my own accord. I refuse to be disappointed that I fell apart, I am going to accept that I’m taking care of my race by not racing back to it.

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