Let me first off start out by saying, I was loving my running streak. I had made it to 11 days straight of running and my training runs were getting faster (pace-wise) and feeling more effortless. To put it simply, I was channeling my inner Ryan Hall.
And then, the sickness commenced on Sunday morning. *cue dramatic theme music please*. It started with the toilet. It ended with the toilet. And more than one thing was happening at once. I had never felt so horrible. Every joint in my body ached. Even my toes. My fever spiked to 101 on Sunday evening. There was going to be no working Monday morning.
Monday I spent practicing working my body against gravity. Standing and walking were considered my workouts. My proudest moment was being able to lift the Crock-Pot up from a low cupboard. The illness in all was somewhat similar to Swine Flu 2009.
So needless to say, when I attempted to try running after only giving myself 3 days of “sick time” I should have expected that I would feel like death. I managed a measly 2 miles today averaging an 8:13 pace. I guess I should be proud I could even do that.
Since when I weighed myself this morning the scale told me that Tyra Banks should be calling anytime soon for my next Top Model audition. I mean which one of the following is real model people?!
Needless to say, I was slightly shocked when the scale flashed: 129. That is 8 pounds less than I usually weigh. Apparently the contents of my stomach and lower GI now has an official weight.
Anyways, I now have a major uphill battle to gain my weight back (even though I’m not hungry), force my stomach to enjoy running again (which it told me hell no today), and get back my mileage and speed (current speed: turtle). Go Me!