Today is Thursday, and that means it feels like those last few miles in a race whenever you’re completely miserable and even the thought of the finish line doesn’t give you enough enthusiasm to press on.

Clearly I’m in a lovely mood.

And I’m sick.

I have been unbelievably busy the past few weeks. I’ve been traveling for work and for pleasure and I haven’t been eating or resting like I normally do. So it’s no big surprise that I’m all sniffly and sneezy and sore-throaty. Actually it may simply be allergies because ragweed/goldenrod and all that other autumn crap hates me. Regardless, I still feel gross.

ANd I’m bummed because last week I had an excellent week of running (mileage and pace) and this week I have hardly run at all. 9 miles, actually. That’s it. I try to be easy on myself because I’m busy and now I’m sick, but it’s hard. I feel lazy.

Oh, and while I’m griping about running, allow me to remind you that the Great Race is on Sunday. And I’ll also share with you that I’m not running in my Vibram FiveFingers.

Last week I noticed a dull pain in my right foot that sent off some warning signals. Nothing terrible, but enough to make me take a break a small break from my FiveFingers. Next week, when I have vowed myself to be back into the running groove, I will slowly work back up in them. And I’m not worried—so you shouldn’t be either.

For now, allow me to share with you a limerick I wrote in honor of my impending shod (and sniffly) race:

I said I really wanted to run
The Pittsburgh Great Race for fun
In my FiveFingered Shoes,
But my foot hurts–boo hoo!
So now to my Brooks I am shun.

You all are amazed at my poetic talents, I know. But no encore today, I’m off to drink some tea and watch Pitt football.

 
How ironic.

What do you suggest I do to nip this cold in the bud?
{Suggestions are encouraged to be written in Limerick form}