ORN: The weather sucked, and I am trying to kick some sort of plague, and so I ran my three miles today on the treadmill at work. Treadmills suck, and I hate them, but I managed to kick it out in a lightning-quick 27'41". Many factors make that a debatable result. First, I haven't calibrated my Polar foot pod since switching shoes. Second, I can usually run a lot faster on a treadmill than I can out in the world.
Speaking of shoes, my new Nikes rocked. After only one treadmill workout, it's too early to tell whether or not this is the shoe for me, but I am happy with this first result.
This post was supposed to be a race report on the Reindeer Romp 4K, benefiting the Salvation Army's Angel Tree program. [I know, I know... I'm a Navy man, myself, but they do good work.] However, I spent Friday wondering whether or not I was going blow groceries. By Friday night, I doubted I would ever eat again, and since I kept making my saving throws, I never threw up, which I am convinced only made me feel worse. I also started having body aches and chills. Sleeping right through the race, I spent most of Saturday in bed. I considered going to the race when my daughter woke me up at 7 AM, but since I felt like I was in a car accident, I chose to skip it.
All day Saturday, I ate the following: two pieces of buttered white-bread toast; half a peanut butter sandwich; six saltines; a small, plain chicken breast; and about 3/4 cup of plain mashed potatoes. For me, that is, like, starvation-mode, but I kept it all down. By Saturday evening, even though I was low-energy, I began to feel a bit better.
On Sunday morning, I felt much better. I felt great, in fact. My appetite came back in full force, and I even considered running. However, I didn't because I didn't want to push things so soon after such a miserable day of funkiness.
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