Ran 14 miles on Saturday. Felt so good, I thought I'd run again on Sunday. But I puked instead. So it goes.
Stayed home from work today just in case my sickness was something contagious and not the frozen pizza I had for dinner on Sunday. It's almost 10 PM on Monday now and I'm pretty sure it was the pizza.
So now I know - if the pizza costs less than $3, it's probably not really a bargain. Lesson learned.
I thought about Post Oak while barfing. Those panicked flittery thoughts you get while your stomach heaves and cramps, you know. As I angrily watched nutrients eject into the toilet, I thought about how sick I could get, how long it would take to recover, and how it would affect the double I intend to run this weekend. I ran through probabilities in my head, from bad to worse and back to better.
Then I was done unswallowing all that pizza and I felt better. Relatively. Like my stomach had been scoured with a bottle brush. A little bit raped. But better than that sicky gonna-hurl feeling. Anything's better than that.
It's been a long time since I've been sick to the point of vomiting. It doesn't happen often. I think it's been years. So if I shared too much in my description, take heart - it will probably be a year or two before it happens again and you have to read all about it. Assuming you're still reading this. Hell, if anyone's still reading after a year or two, please let me know. I will crochet something for you.
I'd offer to bake, but I baked that frozen pizza, and we all know all too well how that turned out.
So I recommend a nice scarf.
This weekend, I'll be running a 25k on Saturday followed by a half marathon on Sunday out at Post Oak. You should come out. There are still some slots available if you want to run. Or you could just come out for breakfast. Or come to cheer. Personally, I like cheering. More information can be found at http://postoakrun.com/index.html.
Know what else I like? Ginger ale.