Tough Week Coming Back

 
 
 
 

After nearly two weeks of being as sick as a tubercular dog and nearly non-existant exercise, coming back was every bit as hard as I imagined it would be. Maybe more so.

On Sunday Jeff Galloway had me scheduled for 40K and I managed to eke out just under 18 miles. But I bonked along the way for something as foolish as not taking enough gels along the way. Strictly amateur hour. I was also light-headed as hell but wrote that off to the anti-histimines in the cold medication I popped during the run to try and turn off the faucet - also known as my nose.

Monday I was all right, not that stiff, just bone tired. If I am able to to, I have been cat-napping in the afternoons to recharge my batteries. If working, I even come home for a long lunch which is a quick scarf down of calories and then a nap.

Tuesday tempo's run was anything but... The legs just weren't there yet and I cut myself some slack and averaged 162 heart beats per minute. I was about 7% off heart rate and four minutes off pace. If I pushed any harder it felt as if my lungs were on fire.

Wednesday I had flat legs and just eased off. No point flogging a near dead horse. My heart rate monitor was on the glitch initially, and after ten minutes I stopped and restarted. Just a bonehead move on my part. My average heart rate was 155, twenty beats lower than usual, and my 10K dragged out from the usual mid-forties to fifty-five minutes. But at the end of the run, I actually felt not that bad, and my lungs were relatively clear.

I know, I know, I am coming back off a cold. Better to ease back into the schedule than to pound myself up.

But this is the big mileage month before Boston and then the taper will here before I know it. I am not sure how this recent illness will effect me. My weight is down to 187 and both I and other people can now notice the difference. Ten pounds to go...

This Sunday I am scheduled to do 12 mile repeats on the track, and one of the very few times in my life I can recall anticipating an upcoming work-out with anything approaching the level of dread I feel creeping over me. I just know how painful this is going to be. And a stop-watch and heart rate monitor never lie....

I registered for the Boston Marathon months ago, and the rooms and flight are already paid for, so the die is cast.