Mom is Always Right

I am stubborn. And sometimes I do things that everyone tells me I shouldn’t do, and that I know I shouldn’t do…like…go for a run when I’m sick.

But let’s back up a second.

Yesterday I took a sick day from work. I can’t be 100% sure, but I’m highly confident that this was the first (or at least one of VERY few) time I’ve ever actually taken a sick day from work while actually sick.

Scoff and roll your eyes all you want, but you must have played hookie at some point in your career, and if you haven’t, well then you’re missing out.

In my time in the working world I always “saved” my sick days as special “vacation” days. I’d go to work with a cold or a headache or what have you, and power through the workday because I knew I’d rather save those 8 hours of time for something much more fun than sitting on the couch watching The Price is Right and flipping through an afternoon of soap operas. Still think I’m a bad person? I’m just curing the world obesity epidemic one white lie at a time: http://mashable.com/2012/03/02/work-death-infographic/ (thank you, Jocelyn, for tweeting this yesterday).

Any who. Back to yesterday.

Yesterday I woke up, still without a voice, and after a fitful night of hacking I called in sick. And even though I was actually sick, I subconsciously took on the day like the sick days of my past. I had a nice breakfast and drank coffee while watching Hoda and KL. I read my favorite blogs and stalked the Twitterfeed for a while. Then I got myself dressed and ready to go for a run.

Wait. Hold the phone. A run??

Here’s what I assume was going through my dayquil-clouded head, “I have this entire day to do nothing, I might as well get my run in!” “The fresh air will probably have me feeling better in no time!” “I don’t need to go fast, I just need to get it done.”

Stupid. Lies. Stupid lies.

Things started out okay enough. I popped a cough drop, stashed a few extra in my pocket and took off toward the Hudson River. The plan was to run north along the water, then cut over near the old neighborhood and head east to Central Park. The jog along Riverside Park was just okay. I was certainly not going crazy fast (in fact, I was literally chanting the mantra in my head: “it’s not about speed it’s about getting it done” and trying to distract myself by all the pretty spring flowers: “I would have missed out on this had I stayed home on the couch. I hate the couch!”) but I also wasn’t going embarrassingly slow…yet.

By the time I started darting in the direction of the park I was ready to be done. Five-ish miles felt worse than the numerous 15’s I’ve covered over the last few weeks, but I told myself it was all “homeward bound” from that point, so I might as well finish. I did one loop of the reservoir and knew the run was a mistake when trekking around my favorite running spot didn’t brighten my spirit or quicken my pace. By the time I got back on the Bridle path to head south (aka, home), a terrible stomach kicked in, to make matters even worse. At this point, I’m pretty sure my Garmin told me my pace was somewhere just under the 11-minute mark. Not cool. But I repeated my mantra of the day and kept on going.

The stomach issues got CRAZY bad as I reached the SW corner of the park…and what perfect timing, as there is a bathroom there (hey, we are runners, we’re allowed to openly share this sort of information via the internet. right??). I had planned to just walk the rest of the way home, as the 8 miles I set out for were done and done, but the bathroom stop gave me a chance to cool down and by the time I was back in the outdoors I was FREEZING. So I sucked it up and decided to jog the rest of the way home. During that wee little jog, a band-aid on my knee (remnants of a shaving accident) randomly decided to stop doing its job, and I had blood dripping down my leg. At the bottom of that same leg, my shoe came untied when I was all of four blocks from the apartment, bloody, cold and miserable.

Needless to say, I think I learned my lesson. Mom*, JD, Squiggs and everyone else out there who did or would have advised against attempting this run “in my condition”: you are correct. And I am a moron.

*Mom also loves, LOVES to tell me that I am stubborn. I always argue that I am definitely NOT. baha.

I’m sure this lack of judgement makes everyone want to jump at the chance to hire me as their run coach come June 18th, right? But for the record, I’ve decided that I did it for my future students. So when they catch a cold in the midst of training and are really itching for that “healing fresh air” I can tell them that I know, from experience, it is not a good idea 🙂

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2 Responses to “Mom is Always Right”


  1. 1 rainingdogsncats April 12, 2012 at 5:14 pm

    You even said you weren’t stupid and didnt need to be told not to run……stubborn as a mule!

  2. 2 marathon winer April 12, 2012 at 6:29 pm

    I THOUGHT THE FRESH AIR WOULD HAVE HEALING POWERS.


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