I've heard of this phenomenon and was hoping it wouldn't happen to me. Coach Gerardo told me recently that coming down with an illness in the days leading to a big race typically happens about two weeks in advance. And it's perfectly normal. Surprise! I'm sick. And a giant blitzkrieg at that.
But instead of a fortnight, I've got seven days to rest, hydrate and make sure I don't lose my physical or mental edge before the LA Marathon.
The achey body, sore throat, watery, itchy eyes and hot-to-the-touch skin all struck at once -- about five hours after an otherwise uneventful trail run at Chesebero Park around 9 this morning. In fact, I did very well on the 30-minute tempo portion, clocking sub-8:00 miles and never exceeding an 8:15 pace. That said, my plantar fasciitis is acting up on the arch of my left foot, to the point where I could barely walk the rest of the day.
I'm definitely getting worried. I feel like I'm starting to fall apart. I suppose it was bound to happen after pushing myself so hard the past few months. Or after a few days of shaking hands with all types of folks at the video games conference. (I even used Purell an ungodly amount of times, what gives!?) But one week before the race? Really?
(Fortunately, all this happened before our afternoon of engagement ring shopping, which went really well! More details another time when I know she's not reading over my shoulder.)
As Stephanie can tell you though (or my parents), I'm a bit dramatic when I don't feel well. In fact, can you feel Steph's eye-roll? Perhaps it's because I'm so used to being in good health that it accentuates my pathetic-ness when those rare moments occur. Maybe it's because I watched too much Ferris Bueller's Day Off and identified more with Cameron growing up. Either way, thank goodness for Steph tonight. She's taking good care of me with Canter's matzah ball soup, lots of herbal tea and cold medicine. I'm a lucky dude.
To be safe tomorrow, I'm taking the day off work. I need to rest and sleep as much as possible to beat this with enough time to resume my training pre-race. It literally is a race against time, and I hope my body is up for the task.
Come on, Ry. Don't fail me now.
And Ferris, wherever you are, don't even think of calling me. I so will NOT pick up.
"When Ryan was in Egypt's land...LET MY RYAN GO!!!"
254 days and counting.