It’s safe to say that tonight’s run was not one of my best.
Last week I only ran once, and it really sucked to lose the rhythm that I’ve kept up since I began Couch to 5K at the end of September. I blame the loss of momentum on a few things, but mainly it was my weekend away and having part of my arm butchered. Both of them were pretty good excuses, but the setback was frustrating.
I’ve been feeling blah all day, but really needed to get back in the saddle and go for a run. Perhaps my blahness was a sign of things to come though, as tonight’s run was probably the worst one I’ve ever done!
Here are a few reasons why it sucked:
• I got a crippling stitch in my diaphragm, which lasted for 22 minutes of my 28-minute session.
• Blisters. Blisters that made me feel as though my feet were bleeding.
• Did I mention that Melbourne has commenced fly plague season?
• ASTHMA. In retrospect, the asthma was probably responsible for my stitch as I was breathing unnaturally the entire time.
• As a result, I needed my inhaler much more than normal. And this may have had something to do with my overwhelming urge to vomit towards the end of my run.
• I found myself 15 minutes from home, and so irritated by all of the above that I actually ripped my headphones out of my ears because my music was annoying me. It was as though my brain couldn’t take any more information than what it already had to deal with. Weird.
• Getting home aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand… headspins. That’s the part where I sat on the front porch for a few minutes, because walking through the front door no longer featured in my short-term plans.
By the time I had recovered enough to actually come in from the street, I just walked straight out to my back deck and stretched out – face down – in order to relieve the horrible cramp in my abdomen. I was sweaty and gross and wheezing and picturing the weepy guests at my funeral, when I was overcome with the sudden urge to turn my head to the other side.
And then, I saw it. Right beside my head was a little message from the Universe; a metaphor that would equip me with the tools to whine on my blog like I have never whined on my blog before.
I called Tim and asked him to bring me the camera.
A couple of hours has passed, and I feel only marginally better than this fly. In fact, last time I checked the little dude was still wriggling around a bit… so I guess he’s in for a painful death like the one I’m experiencing.
The good news? I finished. One more 28-minute run later this week, and then I can finish up with three 30-minute runs. I’m pretty sure I’m not even going to notice that extra two minutes…
What happened to that euphoria I wrote about in Week 4?
