It’s been a week now since I got sick. A virus has been going around the area and I succumbed to its viral tentacles. It hit me hard sending me to bed for 15 hours of sleeping at night and barely having the strength to go downstairs the rest of the time. For six days I’ve been trying to feed a body with no appetite and nausea, ribs are sore from coughing and a pounding head rewards me with every cough and sneeze.
My winter running shoes sit on the floor in front of the heater, I miss putting them on and heading out the door for a run. Nature seems to be mocking me as well, sunny skies and warm days that are perfect for running face me every time I stagger outside with the dog to at least let him get some exercise. Hopefully tomorrow I can run, hopefully tomorrow I can run…..these words play in my head everyday as I wait for this illness to work its way through my wrecked body.
Upstairs my road shoes sit in the closet staring at me as I lay in bed almost willing me to put them on so I can remember how wonderful they feel on my feet. I weigh myself everyday to see if all this laying round is costing me weight, feeling my conditioning that I’ve worked so hard to get begin to fade like a summer tan, irritability is creeping into my consciousness.
Does this happen to all runners? Do we all go through this mental anguish when we are sick and sidelined from doing what we love most? I feel so alone in this sickness, this sickness has zapped me of all my energy and leaves me fondly remembering the good times just last week running the trails at night, those horribly soft trails with all that fresh snow, my pace dragged down to eleven minute miles when I would normally be running 8:30’s, good times….