All I need is a bit of a break in this bloody chest infection or my upcoming races are going to take a hit. That’s the assessment I came to as I watched the clock ticking down to my next race day from my sick bed (I mean desk).
Post Country to Capital I’d finally gotten the bit between my nashers and had started to knuckle down to some real training. I was determined to get back into shape for this years challenges and illness struck.
The problem was that both UltraBaby and the GingaNinja have had it over the last couple of weeks and it’s been ruling the roost in the office too. Thankfully the baby and my colleagues seem to be recovering – though not I nor the GingaNinja.
However, I’m hopeful that it’ll be gone in another week but my fear is to do with the negative impact this will have on the Green Man Ultra and how much of a useless dick I’ll look as I stumble round the course. Although I’ve tried to continue with a training regime of sorts the fact I can barely breathe of swallow has made this nigh on impossible. Still on the positive side I once did the St. Peter’s Way Ultra with a chest infection in full flow but even a week after this started my running is slow and painful in the chest – so much so that I’m struggling to get up to 5km. I’m not pulling out of the GMU though, that’s simply not an option – I’d rather struggle my way round than admit defeat.
Common sense would dictate that I go to a doctor or speak to a pharmacist but I don’t have a lot of common sense and I know I’ll shake it off eventually – it’s just frustrating when you have the desire to do so much more* than your body will let you.
Well not to worry – tomorrow is a new day and maybe I’ll be feeling just dandy.
*Thanks to the incompetence of South Eastern Railway train services this evening I have been lucky enough to be stranded several stops from home and rather than freeze my goolies off I chose to run the 6 hilly, headwindy miles home and I made it – collapsing, in a sensational heap, 40 seconds after getting indoors. Oh well.
I started writing about the Virtual Race a few weeks ago when I decided to sign up for it and last night despite a head that might explode any second and a stream of snot following me I decided that I would go for it. I’d been off work on the Friday and therefore my energy reserves where as good as they were going to get. I decided that I would take UltraHound, otherwise known as Thai and he opted for BattleDress – otherwise known as his waterproof coat.
We hit the road with my new cheap Chinese head torch (which will be reviewed at a later point) and a positive spirit. Many of the roads were flooded and in my Drymax socks and Invo8 Trailroc I was feeling pretty damn good, UltraHound was in good form and despite a bit of pulling we wrapped up the first 5km in decent time – stopping only for the traffic and for UltraBoy to adjust his head torch. The route out was mainly uphill and so when we reached the half way point and our turning we hit the speed button and set off but speed was an issue. My ManFlu was knocking me for six by now and so UltraHound and I plugged on through the oncoming wind and rain, neither of us would be beaten and the aim had always been to run under an hour and so as we hit the 10km point in about 57 minutes (59minutes for 10.33km) we were both pleased. UltraHound woofed in delight as we got home and then promptly fell asleep. I did not and immediately set about preparing the evidence of my 10km run and submitting it to the race organiser.
This was a hard run in really windy and wet conditions around the Kent hills coupled with a dose of ManFlu and my beloved hound adding to the challenge. I’d like to say a huge thank you to the VirtualRunnerUK organisers who have produced a truly brilliant event and I have already signed up for the March run, perhaps I’ll even think about the half marathon distance at some point.
I’ve been trying to sleep for about 4hrs. I’ve been trying to chuck my guts up for about the past 4hrs. I haven’t been this ill in years and I’ve got a 10 mile Cross Country race on Sunday, my virtual 10km to complete and my 400km in 30 day challenge lies in tatters. Worst of all I feel all my hard work of the past few months is quickly unravelling as my preparations for the St. Peter’s Way look in trouble.
This is not going to be a good Valentines Day because I’m not feeling the love. As proof, see the picture of my sad feet below – that’s right I’m in my retired Newton Distance because I’m sick and feel like a old washed up runner not quite ready to accept the end. So go away Manflu and return to me both my mojo and my superhero costume (I know you stole it you bastard!).
I’m not weepy eyed
I’m not seeping snot from every pore
I’m not choking on my own sore throat
I’m not aching
I’m not cold
I’m not hot
I’m not sweating
I’m not retching
I’m not achey headed
I’m not red eyed
I’m not exhausted
I’m not coughing
I’m not chucking up phlegm
I’m just dying
Manflu. For Men