Oh, what will this year bring?

Feeling Good/Not So Good/Good

February 22, 2009 on 9:20 am | In Running | Comments Off

After Thursday’s early rise (4 a.m.), I decided to sleep in on Friday until 6, then run 6 miles. I had already adjusted that down from 8 but I thought 6 would be OK. The problem is that I caught a cold in Chicago which launched into full bloom on Thursday. On Wednesday, my throat had been a little scratchy, my nose a little drippy, but nothing too bad. The descent of the flight from Rochester to Atlanta was scary: I have never felt so close to my ear drum bursting before. It was actually less painful than it was frightening. I tugged at my ear lobe, swallowed, clicked my jaw, everything I could think of to release even a tiny bit of pressure. It must have worked well enough because I landed with both eardrums intact.

At the Atlanta airport, I decided to buy decongestant tablets: $3 for 2 tablets, ouch. As soon as I left the shop with the pills in hand, I heard a loud crackling sound in my right ear and then it cleared. Ah! I really did not want to take the decongestant and risk having medicine head all afternoon when I would be foggy enough from lack of sleep. So I didn’t take the drugs. On the ascent of the flight from Atlanta to Daytona, my ears popped sweetly, although the right continued the sound like crunching of Christmas wrapping paper. The descent was another story. Wouldn’t pop. Finally as we neared the ground, my manipulations of it must have worked because I heard a high whistle, like the sound of air being released slowly from a balloon.

The price for my ears clearing (somewhat) was for my sinuses to plug up to an unbreathable state. I ended up taking a decongestant at the office and still, it barely touched the congestion. Really laid on the echinacea, had wee bit of clearing by evening, so I thought a good morning run would help to clear it out for the day. I headed out on Friday morning, chilly and windy (low 40s with a 10-degree windchill factor) — that first step out the door of the apartment into the breezeway and I really wanted to turn around and get back in bed. But I didn’t. I set my water bottle and box of tissues down, plugged in my music, and started a very slow 1-mile lap. It hurt. In my joints, not in my head, but I plodded along hoping it would feel better as I went along. I finished the loop, drank some water, blew my nose, and started the next one. The achy-ness in my back and joints did not go away. I decided to hang it up.

On Saturday morning, I decided to run to the restaurant, Peach Valley Cafe, where Helen and Stephanie and I meeting to have breakfast. It’s one of our favorite places and it would take me about an hour to get there by foot so I packed a change of clothes and a water bottle for Helen to bring and took off. For most of the run, there are sidewalks, concrete, but it’s a busy road with no shoulder so running on the sidewalk is fine. I’ve driven down Granada Boulevard dozens, maybe 100 or more times, so I know the landmarks, know how far it is to the beach, know where the busy intersections are. It was a good run. Even the stops for traffic weren’t bad. And fortunately, the sidewalk was even and not too badly sloped to the street for drainage. I’ve run the sidewalk on AIA that parallels the beach and the pitching and uneveness of that sidewalk had me constantly watching my footing. This was much better, the best part being the run up the bridge that crosses the Halifax, the only even closely resembling a hill in these parts. At the top of the bridge, I got my first glimpse of the ocean, a lovely sight. My goal had been to be at least on the bridge by the time Helen passed me in the Jeep and I was three-quarters over, on the easy downhill part when I saw the square shape of the Jeep. The restaurant isn’t far from there and when I jogged in, Helen and Stephanie were happily chatting on the bench outside it, Stephanie shivering in her sweater and turtleneck because she’s a southern girl. It was a good run, full of sunshine and moderate temps, and it felt good to need my sunglasses to block the brightness.

Now, Sunday, I feel the concrete sidewalk in my joints: lower back, for sure, but also in my hip joints. It’s amazing what a difference the surface makes. While concrete and asphalt feel equally hard when you’re not thinking about it, the asphalt is much softer to run on. It has a bounce. The concrete is unforgiving; it throws the jolt of each step back up the legs and lets the intersections of the body keep count. It adds up in stiffness and soreness the next day. At least I can breathe now.

Feeling Good/Not So Good/Good

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Oh, what will this year bring?

Feeling Good/Not So Good/Good

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