I spent yesterday in bed. Damn head cold, hit me on Tuesday and knocked me over for a day on Wednesday. Today I went to work, sniffling and snorting and worrying colleagues about my germs. I made it through the day with the help of Tylenol and a lot of Kleenex.
Home, with chicken soup on the menu for dinner and another cold drug in me, I went back to bed. Caught up on important information from Perez, did some banking, Facebooking and tried to sleep. No sleep.
I got up at 8:30 put on my sneakers and went for a run. I left my bed and got up and ran. Even seeing it in black and white it still hasn't sunk in. I think I might be living the life of a runner.
The scheduale was 9 minute runs x 3. I tried a different route and ended up shuffling up the biggest, never-ending hill that I didn't even know existed when I turned down that side street; damn those side street surprises.
But up I went and as I went up the conversation went like this:
Oh my god, this hill! interject voice of my husband, 'Way to go athlete'
There is no way I can make it up this hill! followed by my daughter saying, 'You can do it mom'. I made it up the hill with not only my husband and daughter but my mother and bff too.
Still scared of 10 km. Scared of race day and nerves and the whole bathroom thing and the weather and the speed and the route and the bridge but tonight I felt no fear. I met the runner in me and I like her, head cold and all.