Week in Review

~45 Miles
5 days of Running
4 Days of Flu
101-102 Degree Fever

So, what was I doing running 45 miles this week? Well, I got sick. After running a great workout on Tuesday in Greenville, I had high hopes that my week would turn out really well. After my Thursday run ending terribly, I knew that I was getting sick because it was taking me longer than normal to recover and I felt a terrible itch in my throat. I was right. By Friday, the flu had hit me with full force. I developed a bad case of the chills and felt feverish yet cold at the same time while struggling to work remotely on Friday in Greenville. I took my temperature and the thermometer read 101.3. After I crawled into bed, I checked it again...102.5.

Since it wasn't the most ideal of circumstances to hang out with Garrett while I was sick, I said my final goodbye to him in what could be described as a rather sad "bromance" hug since I didn't want him to get my germs. I then drove back to Charlotte in a rush to get home on Friday night, back in the comfort of my own bed, with the company of my cat Cicero.

Who would have known that a temperature would disrupt a running schedule so much? After two days of rest, I was faced with a decision: Do I attempt to run my scheduled 17 mile long run or just play it by feel? Using my Wake Forest trained brain, I played it by feel. I ran 6.5 miles on Sunday, and my body felt weak as can be. My legs felt like they were lifting an additional 10 pounds as I sludged through the McAlpine trails with Chad and John. In the end, I made the right decision. After all, even the professionals like Kara Goucher and Lauren Fleshman take days off and run easy until they feel strong again if they have the fever.

I ended my week with quite a scare tonight. Unknown to me, Cicero snuck out the front door when my friends came over. He was so quiet and stealth about it that no one even noticed him slip out, into the wild abyss. Well, two hours later, when I was about to go to bed, I realized I hadn't seen him in a while. I asked John to search his room and we both began our search in every imaginable crevasse and hiding spot in our house (including the trash can, the dishwasher, his closet, the sink, etc). After I checked outside a couple of times and called his name, I really was starting to freak out. I looked again inside and headed toward the front door again, prepared to walk around the neighborhood and to call for him.

Right as I was about to have a major panic attack, I opened the front door, where Cicero was now standing! He then sprinted inside and seemed quite content that he had two solid hours outside to explore the unknown land outside our front door. Thank goodness Cicero came home because I would have been an emotional wreck if I hadn't found him because he means a lot to me. Also, I was really grateful to John for helping me look and for preparing to set out on the kitty hunt with me. After that, I went to bed with a relieved heart and a happy explorer kitty.