My fickle immune system has been at it again. I had started feeling really great physically (finally!) and began dipping my toe into ramping things up to a moderate level- playing with pace, longer runs, more frequent workouts. I ended my “base” training cycle with 6 easy miles last Saturday, excited and mentally ready for the more challenging grind of half marathon training, as I have several races lined up this Spring/ early Summer.
Then Sunday something felt really off. Did I forget to take my meds? I have been on antidepressants for years and missing a dose or two can seriously knock me sideways. I couldn’t tell but I took my pills for the day and headed to the gym for a strength workout and some easy cross training.
When I got home, I was hit with a tidal wave of tired.
Like, so, so tired.
I laid down on the couch for a few hours before moving to the bedroom for another several hours. Aside from meal prepping, I don’t think I was vertical again for the rest of the day. I felt like I had the flu- but without all the other symptoms except for some body aches and extreme exhaustion.
Monday was more of the same, and it was freaking me out. I decided to skip my workout later that night and fought back tears because I didn’t feel right and I just didn’t know why.
Around 6 that night, it all became clear: congestion, ear pressure, swollen throat, sneezing all ascended upon me so fast I barely had time to process what was happening before I was miserably lying in bed, in complete disbelief that not only was I sick again, but this was going to be ANOTHER bad one. Why, cruel universe, why?
For the next couple of days, I was sentenced to my bed, unable to move. I couldn’t have worked from home if I tried. Life was all tissues and snot and You on Netflix. (Which was good! I think. I did have a fever.)
Once I was upright again, half-functioning, and back to work, I experienced a lot of training envy. I saw all my Instagram friends crushing workouts and I wanted to be crushing it too.
“I could run.” I would assert myself
“No, Sam, you can’t. You had a 103 fever yesterday. Shut the fuck up.”
This heated argument went on inside my head Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. I lost a full week of training, but I have to keep telling myself that losing a week’s worth of fitness is better than winding up with walking pneumonia for the better part of a month. I’m so stupidly jealous of people who get these mild colds and sniffles and can hammer through a workout in spite of feeling run down. I have never, ever been able to do this with success.
Which brings me to an important point- it is so important to listen to your own body. Yes, people say this all the time and despite this conventional wisdom, very few of us actually do it. We are overcome with training anxiety, fear of losing the fruits of our labor, of losing strength, losing our athletic mojo. I see you out there- back at it minutes after your fever just broke. Maybe you are a genetic powerhouse. Maybe you can do it and not relapse. The more power to you! But it is hard to watch you out there, still crushing it when the rest of us are soaking our beds with sweat as our fevers spike, break, and spike all over again forever and ever for days.
Anyway, things are on the mend- I did my first workout last night. A tempo run was planned but my energy dipped hard late in the day so I did the ol’ switch-a-roo with the training schedule and did my strength workout followed by some easy cardio. Tonight will be attempt #2 at Tempo. Wish me luck!