Well. That may have been the worst run I’ve had all year. And that’s saying something given the last few races have left me questioning the very idea of running anymore.
I had something of a panic attack around mile 13. I couldn’t catch my breath and felt like my heart was going to beat itself out of my chest. I had “aftershocks” the rest of the way. I’m not on any medication save for a lot of caffeine and some alcohol. We all self-medicate is what I’m saying. But I’m not on any pills or drugs that might create a reaction like this. At least, not that I’m aware of. I suppose it’s possible my gummy multivitamins might be tainted… or that echinacea I popped when I felt a sore throat coming on.
Actually, to that end, I woke up this morning with a tickle in my throat that added to my worries. Maybe that combined with anxiety over repairs supposedly (and at long last) commencing tomorrow on my place. It’s been over two months of this nonsense since the building’s HOA undertook their failed preventative maintenance which caused massive water damage. Maybe there is some stress I haven’t worked through.
On the advice of my family, I bought a covid testing kit and swabbed my nose in the Walgreens parking lot. After 15 minutes, I confirmed I do NOT have covid. So I just feel kinda crappy for non-covid reasons. Which is a good thing, to be sure, but also, ya know, the story of not feeling well.
I keep telling myself that I just have to keep trying to find rock bottom so I can get back up again. But every time I think maybe I’ve hit the rock bottom of the running, I seem to crash through the threshold ever lower.
Nothing like a bit of positivity to end the weekend, huh?
Well, at least I indulged in an Omaha institution to celebrate the end of the road…
