...said little Peggy Ann McKay. I have the measles and the mumps, a gash, a rash, and purple bumps. Remember that poem by Shel Silverstein? It swims in my head this time of year. Yes, little Peggy magically healed once she realized it was Saturday, but her list of ailments sometimes echoes what I hear from others nowadays. 'Tis the season of germ-trading, staying home so as not to infect others, cancelling social engagements because constant sniffling at the dinner table is a real buzz-kill. This was my week. What began as a simple, not-uncommon dry throat on Tuesday evening evolved into a full-blown sore throat and fatigue by Wednesday morning.
No one likes being sick. Everyone complains, wishes it wasn't happening. Many of you, though, handle it much better than I do. I become nearly impossible to live with when the slightest tickle invades my throat: I stomp around the house huffing and puffing about the injustice of it all. I awfulize the situation: I'll never be well again, I moan pathetically. No no, you all have Christmas without me--I don't want to get you sick, too. I might as well cancel Ironman because I can't train like this. Woe is me!
Blessedly, this does not happen very often. In fact, the last time it did was 2005. I remember it distinctly--I literally could not move off the couch for a whole week in Jaunary. This time around, I can move off the couch, and already the evil germs are vacating the residence they've taken up in my body.
Phew. Crisis averted.
The bummer in all of this, like many of you experience, is that life goes on regardless of how we feel. My clients' needs don't go away just because I'm sick. Time doesn't stop and wait for me to get well. Because work could not give this week, something else had to. And that something else was my workout schedule. GASP. When I realized Wednesday morning that my body would absolutely not allow me to hit the gym before work, I sulked. I began to mentally calculate the fitness I would lose if I skipped Wednesday...and Thursday...and, gulp, the weekend, too? This panic lasted for all of about two minutes. Because once I let go of the need to adhere to my training plan despite it being the last thing my body wanted and needed, I fell immediately back to sleep. That extra hour of sleep Wednesday morning did more for me than the strength training session I had planned.
So guess what? I can back off! Lo and behold, things do not fall apart with a missed workout or two. Ironman training is an exercise in long-term thinking and big-picture planning. Sacrificing next week's health for this week's workouts makes zero sense, even this early in my training. I'm convinced that nothing happens without reason, that there are no coincidences. I was exposed to this bug because it was the only way for my body to get what it needed this week: to chill out.
I hope you are staying healthy and strong this germ season. Take care of yourselves, everyone.
I love that poem! I still have it memorized, lol. Even though I'm no Ironman, I feel you in terms of learning not to freak out over one missed workout. Case in point: today. I was planning to go to spinning tonight, but it's not going to happen. I used to feel really guilty and beat myself up if I missed a workout. But now I realize, like you said, it's the big picture. I'm ok with it, and that feels much better! Speaking of feeling better, hope you do soon! :-)
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