Ok, so here's how it all went down:
On Friday the 13th, P graduated from his electrical apprentice program. A graduation 5 years in the making. Z spent the night with her Nana so that we could go to graduation and celebrate. Yay, Journeyman Preston!
On Saturday, we woke up early at the hotel and headed to get Z, by way of stopping at my ex-boss's garage sale and the Friends of the public library's annual book sale, where we got some more rock-bottom priced board books. After that we hung out at Nana's for a few hours, then headed home to do laundry and other weekendy things.
On Sunday (8 days ago, not yesterday), the Z got a little congested. I couldn't believe that she had only been well for 3 days and was already going to be sick again! Further proof that starting daycare is super-lame-o. A few hours later, I got a little congested. And my throat hurt a bit. Neither of us was running a fever, so we carried on with our normal Sunday (which is primarily prepping for Monday).
Monday morning when I woke up to pump I felt really crappy. Took my temp and was running a low-grade fever. Made the decision right then to stay home, since Z and I were both showing symptoms on Sunday, I was sure she'd wake up with a temp and wouldn't be able to go to daycare. I thought the day at home with the increased nursing that it would bring would help her to fight off infection more quickly, also. And I just felt terrible, so I was phoning it in. What turned out happening is Z never developed a fever and seemed fine (other than the congestion) all day Monday while I felt totally crappy all day. I figured if I was still only running a low grade fever, I'd suck it up and go in to work on Tuesday.
WRONG. Tuesday morning when I woke up to pump I was running a 101.4 temp. Called immediately for a doc appt. When Z woke up, she was still fever free, so I shuttled her off to daycare so I could sleep. Went to doc, EAR INFECTION. Seriously?? Seriously. Spent the next several days fighting it. Started feeling half-human again on Thursday. Still weak, went into work for half a day Friday. Still congested, even now, because you can't take a decongestant while breastfeeding because you risk drying up your milk. But I'm finally feeling quite a bit better.
With all the recovery going on, we didn't do much this weekend. But, IMTX was taking place about 20 minutes from my home on Saturday, so we did make an afternoon trip up to Market Street to spectate/cheer for a bit. I have to say: I've always wanted to do an Ironman. The allure of pushing my body and mind is difficult to deny. Of course, I know/knew I was nowhere near ready. Before I got pregnant I was trying to build up my tri distances slowly with the goal of getting to the iron-distance within a few years. Pregnancy changed everything. And the baby changed even more. I cannot imagine doing an Ironman now. Not like this. Not with a little one in the house. It would just take too much time to train for. But not only that, I was watching these athletes walk/run/shuffle by me, knowing that all of them had been on their feet for 9+ hours. They looked worn out. They were doing it, don't get me wrong. They were duking it out with 140.6 miles, and they were becoming Ironmans. But the suffering - to me it wasn't inspiring. The feat is inspiring, but the actual seeing of it, the evidence, the minute-by-minute grind of it was the opposite of inspiring to me. It was a turn-off. I remember how I felt near the end of my marathon. I reckon I looked pretty bad there at the end. I know I felt bad! And I don't know why I would want to do that to myself, again, even more extremely? At least not right now. So here I'm telling the world about the official tabling of my Irondream, at least for the forseeable future. And that is ok. I'll focus on getting my fitness back (was already obviously trying to do that), then on short races and maybe building a little speed back into the old rusty machinery. Because I can be my best runner, athlete, triathlete without going long. At least for now.
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