So, I did a swim with assorted drills and then a trail run. I'd planned the run so that I could run 6 miles and then walk a cool-down half mile and enjoy the morning. However, there was a very large, determined fly that wanted to bite the CRAP out of my calf and hamstring. I couldn't disuade it. I finally took off running, and as I ran I could see the fly's shadow buzzing around my legs trying to find a place to land so it could bite me some more. I finally outran the little buzzing bastard after about a quarter mile. So now I know that this is what I've come to in my quest for speed: I can outrun insects.
I also know now that those calluses I paid those Asian ladies to scrape off my feet? Yeah. Turns out I needed those. Now I have to grow new ones. Meanwhile: ouch.
Then I went to belly dance class and now I know that if you are trying to hold a stomach virus at bay and be in deep denial about the whole thing, swiveling your hips and girating your belly does not make you feel better.
I also now know that, owing to his vow to share and share alike, Sweet Baboo has decided to share his recent stomach virus, thankfully the 20-hour variety, with me. Sweet Baboo is better, by the way. Now it's my turn. Yay.
For a few hours I was kind of out of it. I felt weak and dazed, just like in the last half of therun on a 70.3, so finally I weighed myself and realized I'd dropped 3 pounds since this morning. But my stomach would churn when I tried to drink anything except Red Stuff (see below). I've been peeing constantly, all day long. My body seems pretty determined to get rid of any and all fluids. I'm running a small fever, and I haven't sweated since late this morning, despite it being very warm out.
At least I'm not throwing up, or anything like that. I'm just aching and feeling queezy and confused, and feverish and weak. Sweet Baboo said I should be happy I don't have the whole throwing up thing that he had yesterday.
and I said, "Wow, you know what? I am happy. I was just sitting here, thinking about how happy I am. That's what I am, happy, happy, happy. Boy, am I happy!"
And he responded that I probably didn't have what he had because what he had didn't make him sarcastic.
Although, now at 9:31 at night, I am finally starting to feel better.
I now know that the cure for this particular stomach bug appears to be a combination of "red stuff" (Red zinger tea and cranberry juice), pistachio pudding, and the Daily Show/Colbert Report lineup.
I also know, thanks to Spokane Al, that my blog is safe for most of the family types out there. Unlike potty-mouthed Baboo. I may be sarcastic, but I'm not a potty mouth.
The more you know.☝
