Tuesday, March 31, 2009
According to this website, the story teaches us a lesson: "If one thing is to be realized from this short story, it should be that love is hard to come by. When two people are truly, madly, and deeply in love, they must embrace it while they still have the opportunity. If the opportunity if passed up, it might be lost forever. And even if a replacement is found, the first true love will never be forgotten."
Do you have a Michael Furey?
Monday, March 30, 2009
So, I was eating lunch with Husband while Jude was doing his business. After about 15 minutes, I decided to check on him. He kept making weird noises like a whimpering dog. As I approached the restroom, the hallway reeked of poo. I opened the restroom door and found Jude sitting on the toilet but not on the toilet seat. He had forgotten to put the seat down in his haste and was sitting on the toilet bowl.
Jude: Mommy, I'm going to fall in. The potty got bigger!
Me: No sweetie, you forgot to put down the toilet seat.
So, I helped the kid out and put the toilet seat down. I asked if he was done, and he said he wasn't. I walked away to give him some privacy in hopes that he would finish his business quickly.
"Hey, Mommy," he yelled. "Come look at my testicles," he yelled at the top of his lungs. I debated whether or not to go look, but I knew I had to or he would get off the toilet un-wiped, possibly leaving a poop trail. So, I walked to the restroom again and opened the door. He was holding his testicles, marveling at their size. He seemed so proud. I just smiled and walked away. About 30 seconds later he yelled, "Hey, Daddy, come look at my testicles, they're huge!" Husband did as requested.
Just another day in Weenie's World!
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
After I wrote the date, I studied it and realized with astonishment that that wasn't my Husband's date of birth. Shit, shit, shit! So, I deleted it and thought and thought. I sat there with the form for 15 minutes, trying desperately to remember my sweet, perfect, loving Husband's birthday. How I could forget something so important, so dear?
I racked my brain for as long as I could, and I just couldn't come up with the date. You're a pathetic, horrible, stupid wife who can't even remember her only husband's date of birth...what a freaking moron, I thought to myself.
So, I went to the kitchen and found Husband doing the dishes. This was our conversation:
Me: Hey, so I was filling out the forms for work, and it asks for your birthday. Should I put it?
Husband: Yeh, I guess.
Me: So, you want me to write it in?
Me: So, if I wrote it, you would be okay with it?
Me: Okay, so I'll write in your birthday on the form.
I was standing behind Husband hugging him from behind as I asked these questions. I snuggled in close to his back and peeked my head around him. He twisted his head to the side so he could look at me in my eyes. He never stopped washing dishes.
Me: So, okay, I'll write it in. And, just to make sure, you're okay with this?
Husband: Wait, you don't know my birthday! You forgot it!
Me: What?! Are you crazy? Of course I would never forget your birthday. I know it!
Husband: Okay, then what is it?
Me: How dare you ask me such a silly question! How dare you insult me like that!
Husband: Answer the question. When is my birthday?
Me: Shit! I know it's in August...
Once I was found out, I tried to talk in a serious voice, but my face gave it away. My puckered lips, raised eye brows and silly facial expression told husband the truth. Husband just laughed.
Husband: You forgot my birthday!
Me: I know, I know, I suck!
Here is a typical meal at a Shabu Shabu restaurant. You get thinly sliced meat and veggies. You boil the meat and veggies in little pots of boiling water. The water boils on hot plates at your table.
By the way, thanks for all of your encouraging words!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
(By the way, the weather sucked, too! It was 60-ish degrees with winds up to 70 kilometers per hour (about 47 mph) with rain off and on. Since we were running in the heart of Tokyo, the winds were even stronger. The skyscrapers that lined the streets caught the wind and forced it down on us as we were running. At certain times, it was like running in a wind tunnel.)
So, Saturday afternoon (the day before the marathon) I started my period. I know most of you don't want to hear about this, but it became a vital reason for my poor marathon performance. So, I had menstrual cramps, fatigue, bloating, the whole nine yards on Saturday. I was hoping my cycle would be late or interrupted because of the training, but that wasn't the case. It came on as it should have and with a vengeance. I wasn't sure how to remedy the situation. But, I figured I would just run as usual and use a tampon. I couldn't see wearing a maxi-pad for 26.2 miles...thoughts of diaper rash came to mind!
I woke up Sunday morning tired, bloated, cramping and plugged up with a tampon. I was worried about the little hanging tampon string. (In case you are an ignorant man, tampons have strings at the end, so you can pull them out of your kooter.) I was worried the string would bother me as I ran 26.2 miles. Husband thought I should cut the string off, and then have him go fishing for the tampon at the end of the race. In my mind, I pictured myself spread Eagle lying on the bed with Husband coming at me with tweezers...it wasn't a pleasant visual, so I decided NOT to go with his plan. Instead, I thought I would just put lots of Vaseline down there in hopes of being lubed up; thus, the string wouldn't cause any chafing. Well, apparently I didn't put enough Vaseline!
Kilometers 1-27 went great. We (Me, Cole, and Em) were on target for a 4:40 marathon. Our pace was perfect, and we were feeling great, except for my occasional cramping and lower back menstrual pain. My legs were great. My breathing was great. My hips were great. Every part of me that was trained was great. However, my menstrual cramps were bad! At the 27th kilometer, I started to have cramps so bad that they stopped me in my tracks. I couldn't run and endure the stabbing pain in my pelvis, lower back and groin. But, as soon as I started to walk, my kooter started to sting and burn. I rearranged my shorts, and oh Jesus...my girlie parts were on fire. The string from the tampon had been rubbing my private parts raw, and I didn't feel it until I started to walk. When I shifted my shorts, my salty sweat must have got into my girlie parts causing them to sting. Once I realized what had happened, I was mad. I was demoralized. I had lost my friends in the crowd when I started walking. I was all alone in a sea of Japanese runners with a kooter on fire and menstrual cramps from hell. At my worst moment, the wind blew sideways rain into my eyes. I had to hold on to my hat to keep it from flying off. I was even moved mid-stride by several gusts of wind. I was being beat down internally and externally.
As my girlie parts stung and burned, in my mind I kept singing Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash... Burn, burn, burn, that burnin' ring of fire...My kooter was chafed and stinging, my back hurt, and I had horrible menstrual cramps--the kind that make you want to lay down in the fetal position and die. I had considered taking Motrin before the race, but I was afraid the Motrin might upset my stomach--so I never took any. At one point, I wanted to stop running and die. I wasn't prepared for that type of pain--it was worse than giving birth...seriously! My menstrual cramps were so intense I couldn't run for several minutes. I walked until the cramp passed. I walked/ran for 30 miserable, horrible, demoralizing minutes. Runners were passing me, it was raining, the wind was blowing almost 70 kilometers per hour, and my kooter was on fire. It sucked!
After 30 minutes, the cramps lessened, and I could run again. However, with each step or bounce, my girlie parts burned. The sweat, blood, and tampon rope were creating a nasty, burning problem. For all you men out there, I can equate the pain with having rope burn on your testicles and trying to run 26.2 miles like that. It was awful!
I ran hunched back, with my head down to protect my face from the wind and sideways rain. The last 2 kilometers were the longest of my life. I wanted to quit and give up, but I knew I couldn't. I shuffled my way to the finish line with my vagina on fire. When I crossed the finish line, I was so happy to be done. I was so pissed off at the situation that I didn't even bother to look at my finishing time. I think it was 5 hours and 9 minutes, but I'm not sure. And, they haven't posted the results, yet.
But, all I know is that the Tokyo Marathon kicked my ass and burned my kooter! I'm upset about it because I didn't finish at my goal time. I'm disappointed that my body let me down. I'm disappointed that I didn't achieve my goal. I'm just pissed off that I have a uterus, and it decided to shed its lining while I was trying to run 26.2 fucking miles. I'm pissed off I have a useless female reproductive system that I never plan to use again. I'm pissed off I'm a woman! It's totally unfair!
However, there are several good things I can smile about. I had a PR (personal record), Husband had a PR, my genitals are no longer on fire, I'm not injured, Cole and Em completed their first marathon, and no one I know died.
I want a re-do. Since I feel like I didn't meet my goal, I'm planning to run the 2010 Tokyo Marathon. I won't stop until I reach my goal...a 4:30 marathon. Call me crazy, neurotic, or just plain stupid, but, most of all, I'm just determined to reach my goal.
So, it's over now. Tokyo Marathon 2009 is now in the past. I'm not going to dwell on my short comings. I'm not going to dwell on the fact that I failed. I'm going to learn from what happened, and plan and train accordingly. I'm going to train harder and run even better next time. I AM going to meet my goal, no matter what.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
I will also be wearing a Sponge Bob Squarepants band-aid on my hand. I don't have a cut or abrasion. In fact, nothing is wrong with my hand. But, Big D told me to wear it. And every time I get tired and need a boost during the marathon, I will look at the goofy band-aid and know that he is kicking me in my ass, yelling at me to "Run, Midget run!".
So, if I get tired and feel beaten, I'll look at the band-aid on my hand and my stained socks. Those little reminders of home should push me to the end. Sometimes a little reminder is all I need!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
I'm starting to chomp at the bit, so to speak. I want to run and finish. I'm excited to run the marathon now. I can't wait to lace up my running shoes and hit the pavement! I want to run. I want to run 26.2 miles and finish strong with a smile!
Earlier this week I was scared and felt anxious about it, but now things have changed. Now, I've realized just how blessed I am to be able to run such an event. Covering 26.2 miles is a very difficult task that has taken 6 months of preparation and training. I feel extremely blessed to be in good health, injury free, and strong enough to complete 26.2 miles. I have such an immense sense of gratitude to those who have trained with me or ran with me on my long runs. Through tough times, I have been pushed and made it through because of the people running beside me. I will be forever grateful to those fellow runners who have been there with me through it all. I am also incredibly proud of myself for making it through the training. Waking up on Saturday mornings at 5 AM to run 14, 16, 18, and 20 miles is hard. It's hard on your body, on your mind, on your family, and on your social life--it's just plain hard. And, I've made it. I've made it through it all. I'm proud to have made it this far. And, now the final test will be on Sunday. I know I'll finish. I know I'll do the best I can. For that, I'm grateful.
However, there will be an empty spot as I run on Sunday. Long-Legged-Lady will not be running with us. Her aunt died this week, and she will be returning to the States this weekend to attend the funeral. I feel incredibly sad for LLL (Long-Legged-Lady). She has been there through it all. She has been there through the 6 months of training. She has earned the right to run Tokyo Marathon and finish. I'm sorry that she will not be joining us, but mostly I'm sorry for her loss.
On a happier note, a great friend of mine and fellow running buddy just told us this week that she is expecting her first child. I am so happy for her and her husband. They are a great couple and will make awesome parents. She has been given the green light to run the marathon on Sunday. Since she is just in the first weeks of her pregnancy, her doctor has cleared her to run on Sunday. I know some of you probably think she shouldn't run or you think she's crazy for running a marathon while she's pregnant. To you, I say FUCK OFF! Worry about yourself and no one else! She's doing what's right for her and her unborn baby. If you want to leave me an ugly comment about this, go right ahead...bring it on!
So, in just a few days I'll be completing my challenge. I'll be facing my ultimate task. As difficult as it might seem, I know I can conquer it. I know I'm capable. I've already done this once before, and I know I can do it again and again and again and again. That's right, I'm already looking for my next marathon. I know, I'm crazy! Welcome to my world!
If you want to see a first hand account of the route I will be running at the Tokyo Marathon, you can watch a video of the race route by clicking on the link below. This is what I'll be seeing as I run on Sunday.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I'm not as worried because fatigue has taken the place of paranoia. Jude was up from midnight to 2 AM complaining of an ear ache and growing pains in his legs. He fussed, moaned, groaned, whimpered, cried, screamed, tossed and turned all night long. I over slept and missed my 2 mile 5 AM run with my running crew. I felt bad for not showing up, but I just couldn't get out of bed. Sleep deprivation is not a good way to prepare for a marathon! I need to rest now and repair my body before I break it down on Sunday. I hope my kiddo will sleep through the night tonight!
So, I keep checking the weather forecast for Sunday like an OCD person checks the front door to make sure it's locked. The forecast for Sunday says it will be cool with a high temperature of 64 degrees Fahrenheit and a low of 50 degrees, which is decent for running. However, it calls for 100% chance of rain. According to the hourly forecast, there's a 60% percent chance of rain at noon and a 100% chance of rain at 3 PM. And, considering the race starts at 10:30 AM, and I won't actually cross the starting line until maybe 11 AM, because there will be so many damn people (30,000 runners to be exact), I probably won't start running until about noon. And, if I run the marathon in an estimated 4 hours and 30 minutes, I will probably get soaked. But, since the temperature is a little warmer than what I'm used to, it might actually work out well. But, with rain comes squishy shoes, blisters, and chafing. I guess it could be worse! So, I plan to wear shorts, a running shirt, my thinnest running socks, my Nike rain resistant running jacket, and my fuel belt. I will also take my Disney pink Princess Poncho, just in case, along with my bright yellow emergency poncho. But, who knows, the forecast could change.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Yesterday I went to my local thrift shop and got several used items of clothing. I plan to wear them over my running gear on Sunday and then toss them off while I'm running. This way when I'm standing and waiting for the start, I won't be cold or get too soaked. Oh yes, did I mention that it's supposed to rain on Sunday?? Well, it is. Last Saturday I ran 8 miles in the rain with the temperature at about 55 degrees Fahrenheit. It was actually quite nice out, except when the wind blew and rain got in my eyes. But, I'm not sure I'm equipped to run 26.2 miles in the rain. I'm sure I'll be chafed and have blisters in weird undesirable places.
Did I mention that I'm slightly crazier than normal? Yes, every step I take and every morsel of food ingested is carefully screened and thought about. If I feel a weird ache or pain anywhere in my body, I tend to freak out and then wonder if it's real, or if it will pass, or if I'm capable of running 26.2 miles with that weird new pain. I'm worried that I'll eat something weird and get the poopies again. I'm worried that if someone sneezes on me, they'll get me sick and end my chances of running on Sunday. Since I've spent the last 6 months of my life working up to Sunday, I don't want anything to screw it up. I've put all my eggs into my basket, and I'm afraid someone or something might spill them. So, I'm being extra careful about everything. Actually, I'm probably being too careful and too paranoid. I could probably use some type of sedative right now, but I'll just deal with it.
If you've ever ran a marathon before, you know exactly how I feel. Everything I do or eat this week could affect my run, and I'm scare of that. I'm scared I'll do something stupid or eat something bad. I'm afraid I'll fall down the stairs and sprain my ankle. I'm afraid the illness Jude had last week will find me and take hold. I'm afraid the goofy plastic dinosaurs on the floor will cut my feet. I'm afraid of all things out of my control. I know, I need help! But, after Sunday all this will end. Then, I'll be dealing with soreness, possible blisters, chafing, and aching feet and muscles. In fact, after Sunday I probably won't be able to use the toilet without someone being there to help me off of it. But, none of that will matter when I'm wearing my finisher's medal. And, the pain won't really hurt, because I'll be basking in the glory of completing 26.2 miles.
Monday, March 16, 2009
I'm getting nervous. The race is just around the corner.
This Sunday is the big day, and I'm starting to get worried. I've trained and logged all the miles I think are necessary for a good marathon, but still, there is a little voice inside of me telling me all the possible things that CAN go wrong. And, since I'm a planner, I'm listening to that little voice and taking it as a warning to prepare for it all. So, I plan to prepare for rain, locusts, asthma attacks, snow, 95 degree heat, nausea, diarrhea, menstrual cramps, earthquakes, and long lines at the toilet. I hope that if I plan and prepare for everything possible, my mind will be at ease knowing that I've done all I can possibly do. With my mind at rest, it can focus on getting my body to run the distance...26.2 miles.
So, I know it's just a 26.2 mile road race, but I've been working up to it for the last 6 months or so. It has become more than just a race. It's almost like I'm preparing to take the SATs or GMAT or LSAT. It's been lurking for such a long time now that it's hard to believe that the day is almost here. And, I'm filled with anticipation but also with apprehension. I'm scared, nervous, excited, elated, bothered, and sad--all at the same time. I'm scared because I've never ran with 30,000 people before. I'm scared I might trip, fall or get elbowed in the face. I'm nervous because I don't want to have to pee in a squatty potty after running 15 or so miles. I'm excited because this is my second marathon and my first in Japan. I'm elated to finally see all my training and hard work come together to run 26.2 miles. I'm bothered because I can't predict the weather or how I'll feel when I wake up on Sunday. Finally, I'm sad because this era in my life is over. There will be no more 5 AM runs or long 18 mile runs for a long time. I will miss the companionship of my new running buddies. I will miss our weekly The View chats about this and that. I'll miss Saturday morning breakfast with the girls. This moment in time will be over forever--never to be the same again. Yes, I'm a bit nostalgic. I like things to remain constant for as long as possible. I hate change. And, with the race on Sunday, change will come.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Since the course would be closed 2 hours and 15 minutes after the start, each runner had to be at a certain place or gate by a certain time, or the runner(s) would be cut from the race and driven back to the start on a bus or sag wagon. Needless to say, I ran my ass off to make the gates and finish the race without being cut or stopped. I am proud to say I ran my fastest half marathon ever here at Kyoto. I ran 13.1 miles in 2 hours and 10 minutes. However, I didn't enjoy it one bit. It sucked! I hated having to run a certain pace to make it to each gate before they closed. I didn't like the pressure of trying to finish before they closed the course. It was awful! I ran faster than normal and felt pressured the entire time. I felt like I HAD to do it or be laughed at by my fellow running buddies. And, well, shame is a great motivator! But, I still didn't like the pressure. I prefer running because I want to, not because I have to. Whatever! It's done, and I'm glad I had a PR or personal record. I'm proud of my accomplishment, but I just wished that it didn't suck when I was doing it. So, here I am...running!
I'm the one wearing the bright pink jacket, fuel belt, navy blue skirt and blue hat.
Friday, March 13, 2009
I feel so bad for the kid. He is utterly miserable. He hasn't moved in hours. He just sits on the couch watching videos through puffy, crusty eyes wearing nothing but underwear. He's lethargic, snot filled, feverish, and feels awful. He has a horrible cough that would rival that of someone who has smoked for 40 years. He says his head hurts, his tummy hurts, his nose hurts, and even his mouth hurts. I'm trying to make him comfortable and keep him hydrated with popsicles. But, he's even getting tired of those--which illustrates just how bad the kid is feeling...he's never not wanted a popsicle! I put a cool rag on his head and even gave him a sponge bath with warm water in hopes of bringing down his fever--that just pissed him off, because then he was cold and wet.
As his mom, it's hard to watch him suffer. I've tried everything to make him feel better, but nothing is working. Maybe once the antibiotics kick in, he'll feel better.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
Kyoto is a very historical town and displays the essence of old Japan. The city has countless temples, Torii Gates (pictured above), teahouses (in Japan teahouses is one word!), Geisha and Maiko houses, museums, and castles. It will be quite an exciting adventure. Of course I will be bringing my camera, but I will not be bringing my computer-- I have enough crap to haul as it is. So, you must wait patiently for my next posts. I'm sure they will be good ones!
So, patience Grasshopper!
(I will now spend the rest of the day doing laundry, packing, cleaning my apartment (taking out the trash and cleaning out the fridge), and running errands in preparation for the trip.)
Thursday, March 5, 2009
At the audition, they took several still photos. They asked him to smile, and he grinned from ear to ear. It wasn't a pretty smile, though. It was that cheesy 4 year old smile with flared nostrils and googly eyes. They kept saying, "Please smile nice." But the kid just made a weird possessed looking smile. Then, they video taped him riding a little wooden car from one side of the room to the other. They said, "No smiling please." What? You give a kid a cool toy and then tell him not to smile. That's an impossible task, I thought to myself. So, the kid rode the little car and smiled the prettiest little smile. He was so happy to play and ride the car that not smiling his best smile was just impossible. I couldn't blame the kid. They asked him to ride the car several times without smiling, but the kid just couldn't do it. He was just too happy!
So, I doubt he got the part in the commercial. When they said smile, he didn't. When they said don't smile, he smiled. So, I don't think they will want him for this gig. But, who knows?! We haven't heard back from his agency yet. I'll keep you posted. But, at least the kid had a great time playing and hanging out with me.
I also had a great time riding the trains and spending the day with my little stinker. If I'm ever feeling low or having an ugly day, all I have to do is get on a train headed for Downtown Tokyo. Someone will say something to brighten my day...I'm sure of it.
Yesterday, as I was standing next to Jude on the train, an older Japanese gentleman looked at me and smiled. That's a rare sight, by the way. Usually no one makes eye contact on the train. They just pretend to be sleeping. So, the man asked me how old Jude was. I told him. He told me that my son was a very good boy and very cute. I thanked him for his kind comments. Then, he said, "You very beautiful, too!" I just smiled and said thanks. Then he asked, "Where are you from, you very pretty?" I giggled and said, "I'm from America." He smiled at me and said with a thick Japanese accent, "Your son is lucky to have pretty momma." He said this with raised eye brows. I wasn't sure how to take his comments. Then, the train stopped. He said, "This is my stop, I'll see you, huh?" He made his comment into a question, and he had raised eye brows again. I wasn't sure if he really wanted to see me again or what. I just giggled and said, "Ja ne," which means see you later in Japanese. I think was trying to flirt, but I'm still not sure about it. However, I was pleased to have been called beautiful by a stranger...even though the man was old enough to be my grandfather.
I don't consider myself beautiful- cute maybe, but certainly not beautiful. I know I'm very different looking, though. I have a huge Jewish nose with a bump that is quite pronounced. And I have dark brown eyes with a huge forehead and brown hair. I have very pronounced facial features that make me stand out, especially among Japanese women. So, I'm not sure if he was trying to be a flirting, dirty old man, or just a kind man making a nice comment. Either way, it made me giggle and smile.
Just another day in Weenie's world!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
This is totally unfair! I bet you folks down in Tejas are warm and toasty. I bet y'all are already wearing shorts and sandals. Well, I'm not. Instead, I'm wearing wool sweaters with wool socks, thick ass coats and scarves. My legs haven't seen the light of day since last September. My feet haven't worn sandals or open toed shoes since last August. The only tan part of me are my ankles. Since I run in capri tights, my ankles are the only part of me that gets to see the sun. So, my ankles are slightly darker than the rest of me--weird, I know. I look like a mutant, ringed ankle, white, midget Mexican. What up wit dat?
Anywho, the snow is nice and all, but I think I would enjoy it more if it were December or January and not March the freaking 4th. This is so not fair! I envy all you red neck MFs down in Texas, basking in the warmth of the sun. Scoop up some of that heat, put it in a jar and send it to me here in Japan. I could use it to warm my white, pasty ass!
You already know how I feel about this...I've bitched and moaned many times in the last 6 months about this subject. I thought that once a new president was in office things would change, but obviously things ain't gettin' any better! I thought Mr. Obama would bring forth change, but unfortunately he's turned out to be just another politician with great rhetoric. I was hopeful in the beginning, but now it seems the media and the president are using scare tactics to freak out the American people...and it's working. Where has the hope gone? Where has Mr. Obama's enlightened messages gone?
Mr Obama: Instead of scaring the peejeebeez out of the American people with your words, try to instill a sense of peace, bipartisanship, and fortitude. Maybe if you changed your tone, you and the rich bitches in Washington could get along to fix this economic crisis, and the stock market would stop being so freaking volatile!
Monday, March 2, 2009
Here he is an angry alien...
Sunday, March 1, 2009
During the night I tossed, turned, tooted, and groaned. My guts were churning like Niagara Falls. I could hear a mysterious sound coming from my guts. I knew something was definitely wrong. I woke up an hour before the alarm went off and had to run to the toilet. It was not a fluffy floater as I had desperately hoped for. I had the runs, the crappers, the shits...I had diarrhea. This was not the way I had planned on starting my morning especially since I was about to run 20 miles. After that experience, if you will, I sat on the couch and attempted to drink my glass of water. The sight of the water made me nauseated. My mouth kept watering as if it was a precursor to vomiting. I felt horrible. I was bloated, nauseated, my bowels hurt, and my ass hole kept puckering up, waiting with anticipation for the next movement which was coming soon. I could not drink the water. I couldn't do anything but focus on the gross feeling originating in my guts. I contemplated not running, but I couldn't imagine not going for a training run this close to the marathon. I contemplated running with the runs--that image didn't seem pleasant, either. I wasn't sure what to do. So, I took some Maalox and waited. As I waited for the Maalox to kick in, I had to run to toilet again. Again, I was disappointed with result...it was NOT what I was hoping for. It was disgusting. I was convinced some horrible bacteria was trying to kill me.
I thought about what I had eaten the day before in an attempt to find the culprit that was causing me so much misery. I thought about every morsel of food I ate. I did recall eating some cheese that smelled a little funny. I asked Husband if it smelled bad, and he said it was fine. So, I ate it. I should have known better. I should have listened to the voice in my head saying don't eat it, don't eat it...Husband has guts of steel, but you don't, don't eat it, don't eat it. Of course, I ate it. I was angry with myself for doing something stupid, but it was too late for that. The damage had already been done.
I tried to continue with my usual early morning run rituals, but trips to the toilet kept getting in the way. It was hard to think with my guts gurgling and my mouth watering. I got dressed and headed out the door. I knew I couldn't run 20 miles like this. I could barely drink anything. How was I going to run 20 miles if I couldn't drink anything? How was I going to run 20 miles with the runs? How was I going to run 20 miles feeling tired, nauseated and with an ass hole that kept wanting to pucker up?
I met my running buddies at our usual meeting place and told them I had diarrhea. Some said I should just run and see what happens. Others said I should just go home. Others said I should run for a few miles and see how I feel. Since I had already completed a 20 mile and a 19.2 mile run earlier in the month, I wasn't too worried about this particular 20 mile run. Most people usually only run two 20 or so mile runs in preparation for a marathon. So, I figured I would be okay without this 20 mile run. I just couldn't see how I was going to make it 20 miles without puking or crapping on myself.
So, I decided to run until I just couldn't run anymore. I started off feeling okay, but my mouth kept watering in anticipation--that's never a good sign. As I swallowed my saliva, my stomach acid attacked it with gusto causing horrible stomach cramps. Then, the nausea and cramping would subside for about 2 minutes and then return with a vengeance. I tried talking to take my mind off of my bubbling guts, but it didn't help. I made it about 4 miles and had to stop. I was close enough to my apartment and decided to run home. As I walked through the door, Husband wasn't surprised to see me. He thought I made the right decision. I showered and rested on the couch.
I was disappointed with my morning, my run, and my body. I was let down by the very thing I had been relying on...my body. I felt beaten. I could not control my bowels, and I was pissed off. I had been training so well. I ran through a cold several weeks ago, but there was no way I could run 20 miles with a stomach bug. I felt totally defeated. But, that feeling didn't last very long. The overwhelming urge to puke and poop distracted me from being disappointed. I just wanted to make it through the day without puking my guts out or spraying the back wall.
I'm happy to report that I'm much better today. My stomach and bowels are no longer being attacked. Thank God!