So, I was really really excited to run in Scotland. Really excited. It was forecasted to be about 10C for the week, my Forerunner 210 was charged up, the hills beckoned... it was going to be a good trip.
Going to be.
My first day there, I was a bit tired from the flight, so I took a nap. It was my birthday, so we ordered in some takeaway (Indian) and I had Costa Coffee with my cousin at Tesco. A very British start to my vacation. Figured I would get up and run on Friday.
I did, and it was 2 miles of me going "shit I'm out of shape". Loads of hills, loads of heaving. In my previous post, I said I felt better later on that week. Well I did... I had ONE good day (evidently that day). I figured I'd beat whatever that sore throat thingy was, so I aimed for another run. I actually ended up running right to the gym in Rutherglen and did a bit of weights and stuff. I had run a little over 2 miles that day as well, plus weights. Remember, it's all hills so I'm reckoning it was like 3 miles.
The day after my good day, I woke up and that's when shit hit the fan. My health rapidly decreased. I went for a run that morning, and desperately made it through yet another 2 miles before I had to go for an appointment for a facial. As I was speaking to my cousin in the car, I noticed that I felt like coughing a lot. Like I had a weird tickle in my throat. Not sore, just... maybe super dry? I got some water at the spa but this weird coughing feeling didn't go away all day. Then my nose started to run. By the end of the day, I felt like total crap. Of course, that's when my cousin suggested we hit the gym.
I decided to go along... I figured maybe the outdoor running was a bit too much, so I'd run inside. The gym was mobbed and getting a treadmill was a challenge, so I figured I'd show off just how strong I was by doing some weights and calisthenics. Nothing against Scottish people, but me being a 6'0" tall girl doing 25 lb bicep curls made me the strongest/biggest person in the gym. I'm guessing the fish & chips diet isn't the best. You can tell everyone there looked really malnourished. Not fat, not thin, just... they needed a good salad and some fruit and veg. None of them looked like they chugged protein shakes after a workout. I felt pretty hardcore when I saw these guys staring at me... turns out that my Brooks split shorts were a little too "split" for them. Even though I have a liner in them (and was wearing underwear), they were actually complaining that they could see up my shorts. Ah! Mortified!! Embarrassed, I slinked away to the first available treadmill. I did a grand total of about 6 minutes when a pain in my side (from dinner perhaps?) stopped me. I stood around the gym, and I realized that I felt like total crap. I told my cousins I was running home, and I ran in the dark back to my aunt's house. When I got in, I showered, collapsed on a chair, and drank tea.
At this point, it was so hard to breathe and I could hear myself struggling to inhale and exhale. My other cold/flu symptoms were full blown at this point. I eventually went to bed and nearly cried myself to sleep... I just wanted to go home and was not looking to the 12 hour ordeal I had to go through the next day.
The flight was probably one of, if not the worst, flight of my life. I had breakfast at the airport (porridge, toast, and tea... naturally) and grabbed a bag of Walker's Sweet Thai Chili Sensations crisps, as well as a stack of trashy mags. I regretted not bringing my Air Transat blow-up pillow and blanket. I was a bit disappointed that my 20 min conversation with the flight crew did not result in me getting another goodie bag. This was the one flight I needed it. A little boy had taken my window seat and I just didn't care. The aisle was a better idea anyway.. more legroom and it turned out that later in the flight I needed it. As soon as we departed, I closed my eyes and fell asleep for an hour. I woke up to food being served and realized that the thought of food made me puke. I passed it up (for like, the first time ever). I tried to get through some of my trashy mags, then tried a lecture... I couldn't focus and my whole body felt in agony. 2 hours to go in the flight, and I started to go to the lav. Numerous times. So sick. :( Good thing I got that aisle seat.
When we landed in Toronto, I headed for customs and nearly died walking there. At this point, my voice was completely gone, I could barely breathe, my nose was red raw from the 50 Air Transat napkins I used as tissues, and I felt like death warmed up. I choked down a small caesar salad while waiting for my Ottawa flight. I was hungry but food itself just turned me off. I was lucky enough to have a row to myself on the WestJet flight and I sat there in agony praying the plane would land sooner. I grabbed a Booster Juice and headed straight to the doctor's.
After all that, it turns out I had rather severe bronchitis and have been relegated to using an inhaler and am on antibiotics. At this point in time (nearly a week later), I'm still sniffly, and I went into a coughing fit last night. I reckon it'll be another 2-3 days before I can hit the treadmill. Weight was 160 on the dot when I landed, and it's creeped up to 162 now. I doubt the week will have a major effect on me, but I emotionally need the gym. As much as I dread runs some days, my life feels so empty without them.
Will have to reassess the running plan when I get better. I'm aiming for 3-5 mile runs during the week, and a specified long run on the weekends.
Oh, and I'm NEVER going to Scotland in the winter again. Scotland's weather and viruses have defeated me 7 of the last 8 visits. We're through.
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