Remember those goals I set for the weekend? You bet your sweet ass that I was gearin’ and rearin’ to mark those boxes checked.
Woke up on Sunday, the holy day of rest, and got prepped for a run. THE run. I started running up Stone and, for the life of me, couldn’t catch my breath. I thought that perhaps I was running too fast. My fancy bangerang-of-a-watch told me I was a 9’12” pace for the first mile. So, sure, I coulda backed off but it wasn’t out of the norm. By the time I got to the light, my vision started fading out. My ears were killing me – it felt like freezing cold water was pooling in my ear canal. I kept running, thinking, “Maybe I just didn’t eat enough or maybe I should have drank a little coffee.” By the time I got to the inner Greenlake trail, I was starting to panic. I didn’t have a phone. I wasn’t close to Andrea’s or Chelsea’s or Martine’s. I couldn’t breath, and then it occurred to me that I was starting to have an asthma attack. I didn’t recognize it right away because I haven’t had one in such a long time. I pulled off the path and started walking home, having to stop often.
And, let me tell you, it was a horrible, long walk home. You know when you look into a bright light (esp LED) and then look away at everything else how it makes everything appear whiter and almost dream-sequence-ish? That was my entire walk home. My ears ached so bad. Terrible, just terrible. And incredibly disappointing. But what was I to do? Keep running? No way. Absolutely not.
Best part of this all – I remembered to use my inhaler before the run. Eff.