After a phlegm-filled week, I am pleased to announce that my cold has moved from my lungs and into my head. This is excellent news; it means I can run without burning lungs and a hacking cough. It also means that after a week of pathetic indoor death-march runs, I can move outside! You all know how much I hate the treadmill, so this is the best news ever.
Yesterday, I was scheduled to run 8 miles, but there was no way I was hauling my cold-weakened self out into the freezing Nevada day. After sleeping in and napping on the couch, I began the mental run/don’t run battle. Eventually, my desire to get moving won over the fear of crapping out after two wheeze-y miles again, but not without a serious struggle. I bribed myself with crap TV (the guiltiest of guilty pleasures), aimed for at least 5, and ran 7. Not up to the schedule, but a triumph nonetheless–and how great to finally feel in control of my body again.
So, my 8-mile run will wait until next Sunday, and I get to do it on a short stop in Phoenix. I have to admit that I’m totally looking forward to the 4000-ft drop in elevation. 🙂
And lest I forget, thanks so much for the encouragement! It made last week so much better. 🙂