September 23rd, 2010
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.
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.