Date: 2011-03-31 19:14:41 Created: 2011-03-31 15:14:24
On Sunday, I stepped off the train, returning home after a weekend of intense birthday celebrations of both brothers and others. I had a great time, ate a lot and slept quite poorly. So I was feeling slow and sleepy both from food and lack of sleep. It was early in the afternoon and the weather was decent but not great in any way.
So, I figured some running would do me good. And, since my energy supplies should have been nicely topped up and I had been thinking about it recently, I decided to go for a new personal distance record.
(Going further than usual is a good way for me to keep my pace steady too.)
So, I went out and chewed through thirty kilometers. It went about as nice and easy as I had hoped, which was a bit nicer and easier than I had expected. I felt worn afterwards, of course, about as much so as I did after the first few times I approached a half-marathon distance.
Thus, I felt sure I had not overdone anything, ate a good amount during the evening and went to bed at a normal time, still feeling nicely worn.
So, I do not know if it had much of any connection with my long run, but during the night I got pretty sick. You do not want any details of course, but I felt more intensely sick in some ways than I have in a very long time, if ever.
Calling in sick on Monday was a given, and it was an almost fascinatingly disconnected day. Drifting in and out of sleep, my reaction time seemed to measure in tens of minutes, if not half hours or more. In the late afternoon, I got out of bed and laid down on the sofa instead. Before that, I had made about one very unsteady and dizzying journey each to the bathroom and the kitchen respectively. In total, I managed to get about a litre of sugared (and lightly salted) water down, along with a little bit of yoghurt with jam. I did pretty much exactly nothing, just laid down, drifted in and out of sleep and shifted positions sometimes. Then, around nine, I went to bed again and had no problem at all falling asleep for the night.
The thing which sort of fascinated me, even as it was going on, was that I never felt any drive to do anything, and never felt bored in any way. Usually when I am ill I at least feel like watching a movie, but no, not even that.
No wonder the rest of the week has felt kind of off by one.